Tend Your Garden

This is my second year gardening at the Kansas City house. I’m probably what you would call a “hobby gardener” – although due to the size of my garden this “hobby” is rather time-consuming in the summer.

I’ve been gardening on and off for most of my life, although this garden here is by far the largest undertaking. I’ve learned some superficial gardening lessons over the years but the ones I’ve learned these past two years are impactful on so many levels.

Or maybe I’m getting wiser in my 40’s, who knows?

Each spring, I start daydreaming about seeds. I list out what I’m going to plant and inventory my seeds to see what I need to buy. I research (for the umpteenth time) companion planting and crop rotation, row spacing and planting timelines. I map out my garden on an excel spreadsheet. In March, I plant my seedlings (tomatoes, peppers, and sometimes cucurbits).

Then I try not to kill them and impatiently wait for May, when I can put them in the ground.

I feel like this all sounds vastly intimidating and planned out but really I just stick some seeds in a ready-made soil disk and try desperately to keep them alive until it’s planting time.

So then I get to plant the things and spread the mulch to keep out weeds and hope and pray that we don’t get any more frost advisories.

And this is where you roll the dice with Mother Nature.

2020 – had a cool, excessively wet May. Things didn’t really take off until June and a late cold snap meant I had to cover all my plants with makeshift cloches for almost 2 weeks. It was a bad year for tomatoes. I constantly battled the squash bugs and vine borers on my zucchini. The melons didn’t get enough water. Fruitworms and tobacco hornworms tried to decimate my tomatoes and peppers. My radishes didn’t grow. The beans kept mysteriously dying. Racoons ate all the sweet corn. The potatoes were a bust. Cabbage loopers infested my broccoli and my Brussels sprouts never sprouted. The pumpkins took over half the garden and the weeds got out of control. I spent hours in 90 degree heat weeding, weeding, weeding.

It felt like a never-ending battle. And then August came. And all of a sudden, there was this bounty.

2021 – had a decent May but then June came and decided it wanted to behave like August and we had excessive heat and no water. The garden fell stagnant – nothing died, but nothing grew any bigger, either. The peppers lost their blossoms. My zinnias grew in dwarf-sized. The peas (which prefer cooler weather) shriveled and crisped up, with only a few lone survivors. I didn’t plant zucchini or pumpkins this year because I couldn’t deal with the squash bugs.

I kept looking at my photos from 2020 and thinking, “this time last year I was already harvesting xyz.” I was discouraged. Only my beets and green onions seemed to be doing anything good.

But! July!

I’m still dealing with undersized plants and my tomatoes are all deformed but I’m seeing some progress. Still a bit discouraged, but we finally got the fence done and had a gravel walkway put in. So it’s looking prettier and we can keep out all the critters but the raccoons.

In August I finally started to see some progress. My early tomatoes had lots of catfacing problems – possibly due to the super weird weather – but they make for just fine eating regardless, and my cucumbers were really taking off. Potatoes were kind of a bust this year, too, but I had marginally better success with the beans and onions.

Everything is just like a 4-6 weeks behind regular schedule this year. I mean, I had cucumbers into the end of August and those are usually done by the fourth of July.

So here we are. September. My garden is overflowing. Tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, hot peppers, green beans, tomatillos, corn, watermelon.

EVERY YEAR.

Every single year the harvest comes around to remind me.

This is what I posted last year around mid-July (which translates to about now in this weirdly-delayed year):

Just yesterday, I was venting to my husband about the garden. I know you all see a snapshot in my story but the reality is – it feels like an uphill battle most days. Every single fruit and veggie has been (and still is) a fight. Squash bugs, vine borers, cucumber beetles, hornworms, cabbage loopers, fruitworms, powdery mildew, and whatever the heck is eating my bean leaves, to name a few. I easily spend 20-30 hours a week weeding, pruning, treating, fertilizing, watering (it’s been exceptionally hot and dry), and managing pests.
It’s starting to wear on me.
But sometimes, the universe knows just when you need a win.

So if you’ve made it this far, that is what I came to say.

It’s a lot of hard work. There are many, many days when you look at what you’ve built and you can’t see the progress. It seems like you’re pedaling nowhere.

But you’re not.

I promise you (and I remind my future self) that – at least in gardening – you will reap the rewards of your efforts.

Be patient. Don’t compare this moment to everyone else’s moments. It’s your moment. Enjoy it.