I'm not the world's most proficient gardener. I don't have a black thumb, mind you. Most of my houseplants over the years have stayed in some sort of alive state (except palm trees... go figure). It's just that I get bored looking after them sometimes, or life will demand more of my attention than the green things, and they quietly fade away. But after reading the blog posts and tweets of a few new online friends, I am ready to head back to the nursery and grow a few things.
In the past, I have suffered from over-enthusiasm. Why have a few potted flowers when I could have a balcony full of them? Why stop at flowers? Why not some strawberries? And a few herbs? And wouldn't a little tree look fabulous right about there? I'd get the seeds started or the tender plants potted and...WHAM! Summer.
Not being a proficient gardener is a huge problem when more is required than plant the seeds and water the dirt. These plants required fertilizer, those needed more direct shade. This bunch have to be pruned, that batch should be potted in a special soil and covered with organic mulch. Somehow, I always managed to put the shade lovers in the sun, keep the damp-soil lovers over watered and used the wrong soil entirely for others. The dry heat of Las Vegas summertime also clashed with my near pathological aversion to sun, heat and sweat (mainly because my lazy bones refused to wake early enough to tend to the growing things in the early part of the day). Thus...all my beautiful plants were toast by June.
Yet every Spring the urge resurfaces. This year, I was determined to try again, mostly for the sake of my two-year-old daughter. I thought it would be a good way to teach about growing things, and later about preparing the things you've grown for food. But I also decided that I would play it a bit more safe. Despite my urge to buy every type of vegetable, fruit and herb in the garden center, I decided to curb my enthusiasm and grow only the ingredients to make salsa.
After scoping out my teensy back yard for the spots with the most sun exposure (a very short list), I headed to the Lowe's nearby to see what they had to offer. Advice from others who do this sort of thing year after year led me to purchase seedlings rather than seeds, as I had waited a bit too long in the year for those to be fruitful. I looked over all of the plants carefully, and finally made my selections.
I chose three different tomato plants. The Early Girl, a slicing tomato, because the dear Kathryn Hall recommended them for a quick return on investment; The Mortgage Buster (a nice, big fat slicing tomato), because my parents gave me a Topsy Turvy planter and I thought it would look nice with fat, red fruits on it; and a cherry tomato plant, because my daughter is crazy for tiny tomatoes (though her tastes run more to the grape tomato).
Moving on to onions, there were few choices outside of the green bunch variety. I was looking for more of a yellow bulb onion, but no dice. I did find a Walla Walla sweet onion, though, and that sounded like a winner. Next, I weighed the options for peppers. Ultimately, though serranos, poblanos and habañeros looked exotic, I went with the good old jalapeño. After all, I had never really used the others before, and would hate to have a crop of chiles I didn't know what to do with (or worse, didn't like).
Rounding out my crops for the season was a bunch of cilantro (an herb I 'm not overly fond of, but will use in small batches, especially in pico de gallo). Staying true to my impulsive nature, however, I somehow ended up with two little strawberry plants as well.
My other new friend Lucy Jones made it plain that only organic soil would do, so my next stop was the giant bags of dirt stacked up head high on pallets in the corner. I always kinda thought dirt was dirt was dirt, but that's clearly not true. After much head scratching, I settled on a Miracle Gro Organic soil that had pictures of healthy, happy veggies on the bag.
Aside from the Topsy Turvy, I had no container for my little garden. One website I had consulted recommended a large, shallow bowl, so I set off to find one amongst the terra cotta pots and 30-gallon barrels. Unfortunately, the best I could do was a terra-cotta colored plastic bowl, and a little herb pot for the cilantro. I had a hanging basket from a pothos that had passed away years ago, and I thought that might do for the strawberries, so my excursion was complete.
After the bored cashier rang up my purchases and we placed them carefully in the trunk, I remembered that I needed one more piece of equipment rather urgently. I didn't recall seeing what I needed at Lowe's, so we moved across the parking lot to the Walmart Garden Center.
Besides having a teeny-tiny back yard, I also have absolutely no overhangs, rooflines or ledges from which to hang my Topsy Turvy, so creativity was called for. While visiitng my family in Phoenix, I was absently gazing at the hummingbird feeder in their backyard when I noticed what it was hanging on. My mom told me it was called a shepherd's hook, and I knew that it was the answer to all my prayers. There in Walmart, a rack of such devices waited patiently near the tomato cages.
After a bit of hemming and hawing, I ultimately went with the 84" tall double hook (thinking that the higher the planter, the more sun it might get). On my way out the door, a bunch of yellow onon bulbs caught my eye. How could I not add it to the purchase? It was just what I needed.
Later, at home, as I unpacked the little seedlings and put them on the patio to wait for morning, I couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. These little lives were in my hands now. In a few months, there would either be a bounty of veggies (and lots of yummy salsa), or another failed experiment. I looked at their tiny green leaves, so vibrant and trusting, and said a little prayer that this time, it would all go right.
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