My Garden

Digging in the dirt and planting a garden be it vegetable or flower is a rite of passage in the spring. Is it just the feel of the sun and the warm air after winter? Or is it some long lost instinct, from back in our human past that made spring planting a vital part of survival? What ever the reason, feeling the dirt between your fingers, spreading the mulch, and feeling the muscles in your legs work mark the season as springtime. 

My father had a garden when I was a child. A huge section of our yard devoted to growing corn, zucchini, pumpkins, and the like. I remember helping him harvest the vegetables and drying herbs with my mother. It seemed that as a child we would eat fresh corn for a full month and the pumpkins and pumpkin seeds would feed well past Thanksgiving into Christmas. Growing up having those fresh garden vegetables to supplement the food budget was not only necessary, but it added flavor and a connection to the seasons. 

When I bought my first house, I knew I wanted a garden and my husband built me raised beds. That year I planted peppers, zucchini, eggplant, tomatoes, and herbs. I was so excited about my garden. I watered and weeded like a fiend. I decided to grow it organically and would wake up early in the morning and go outside with the box of Morton salt to find the slugs that wanted my hard work. I had so many peppers I was giving them away, but my eggplants only produced one eggplant and worms got into my zucchini.

My tomatoes grew big and red and just before we picked them; slugs ate the fruit. Morton Salt and I were not effective. I think we were only able to save ten tomatoes that year. Since then, I have had successful years and have had years where my garden failed miserably. I have found what works for where I live and my lifestyle (yes you are supposed to actually water your plants). It is hard work and sometimes disappointing.