As I was thinking about my beginnings in gardening, I suddenly felt an acute empathy for so many people in my life who claim that they simply “don’t have a green thumb.” Most of them use stories of pathetic, wilted, porch-grown tomato plants and neglected, forgotten, (and thus) deceased herb pots as evidence of their lack of the “gardening gene.”

I believe my empathy comes from deep understanding. Sewing is my nemesis. My early failures and giving-ups have just about squashed any desire on my part to take on the next pattern challenge. However, both my early success at gardening and my early failures at sewing have revealed a couple patterns that I would love to share. My hope is that they will be an encouragement to you all, or at least inspire you to examine your thumb to see if there might not be at least a hint of chartreuse?

To make a long story short, tending my Eden (first garden) was a joyous time of my life. My now-husband and I had just been dating since September, and after a long winter of staying inside and watching way too many movies and WAY too many sports news casts, we decided to start a garden together, come spring. It was such a marvelous time together. The work was fun, the sparks were flying, and it really brought us together as a couple. I think God must have known we needed lots of encouragement and few frustrations, because our first garden was a raging success and we obviously knew very little. Not only did everything seem to prosper, but we also stumbled upon what I will stubbornly claim is the world’s best salsa recipe, no joke. That first-time’s-a-charm completely hooked me on gardening. The feeling of success was empowering, and the bliss of walking amongst happy, fruitful plants was like an addiction, forever sucking me into the joy of growing and tending my plant “babies.”

Ok, on to the lessons:

• Set yourself up for success. My first sewing project was too big and complicated, frustrating me and making me feel like I couldn’t succeed. Start small and be firm in your resolution to take great care of those few plants. Then, if you like gardening, build from there. For instance, if you get the urge to adopt a tomato plant this year (not to over anthropomorphize!), try this: skip all of the new-fangled, expensive ways of growing tomatoes, like hanging them upside-down, or watering them in a special root-watering pot. Instead, hike up your britches, dig a hole, and take the time to pile up a ridge of soil all the way around your plant, which acts as a reservoir to hold in water. Finally (and the hardest part), when your plant is about as big around as a basketball, place a cage around it and stake it. You will be amazed at how proud you will feel when your well-tended tomato thrives under your care!
• Take time to enjoy your work. I loved walking through a freshly weeded garden, talking to the plants and feeling like a good “mom!” It does wonders for the soul.
• Only buy plants that you will use. It is an ill-use of your time to plant okra when you have never eaten a form of it that you can tolerate (hypothetically speaking).
• Plan ahead. If you are planting ten rows of corn, for instance, you will need freezer space and an afternoon dedicated to processing your produce.
• Last but absolutely not least…. DON’T EVER PLANT MORE THAN THREE ZUCCHINI PLANTS!

I hope you will enjoy pictures of my Eden.

I want to place in the caveat that although I had lots of success the first year, none of my other gardens have looked this grand, so don’t be discouraged. I keep reading, though, and someday, my garden will both dwarf and pale this one. (I think that’s the gardener’s creed…)