The Grumpy Gardener

It has been one of my deep hearts desires since I was a little girl to be able to grow things.  For a very long time, I wanted to own a flower shop.  I had a name picked out for it and everything… The Flower Box.  There is nothing happier than being surrounded by flowers and making beautiful things out of them.  Well, as it turns out, you need lots of science to be a horticulture major, which was not going to work out for me.  So the Flower Box continues to be an elusive dream for me.

In it’s place, I’ve turned to growing little gardens along the way.  My Grandma and Grandpa Brown had a huge garden every year that my siblings and I would help plant and tend, so I guess I just thought it was in my blood.

It may not just be in my blood.

I am what you would call a frustrated gardener.  I want to just be able to plant things and they will grow.   However, I tend to forget to water, give too much water, don’t know anything about feeding or fertilizing and except for one little vegetable plot many years ago, my garden growing has been not what you would call successful.  This year, though, I was going to give it everything I’ve got.

It started out so promising.  I bought plants, planted them, and have been watering them faithfully.  Unfortunately, this year I have not been foiled by my own mishaps.  I’ve been foiled by the males that live with me.

Week 1:  We have planted two squash plants in the most sorry looking plot of dirt and weeds you can imagine.  It’s really actually embarrassing because it looks nothing like the beautifully tended gardens of my childhood that I hold as the standard.  It’s two sad little squash plants trying to survive amongst rocks and weeds.  Anyhow, I water them faithfully and they have started to grow.  At the end of the week, I check on my little plants and find one has had significant leaf damage.  What?!?!?  Did an animal eat my leaves?!?!  I go ask Jeff about it.

“Do you know what happened to my squash plant?  Half the leaves are gone!  Do you think an animal ate it??”

Jeff, looking a bit sheepish, “Well, I may have hit it with the weed eater.  Sorry Babe.”

I’m a little perturbed about this, but try to get past it.  I continue to water my poor little squash plants faithfully.  The mangled plant actually begins to grow a few blooms.  I’m very excited about this.

Week 2:  I recall no mishaps and Jeff has not weed eated this week.

Week 3:  (As in this weekend)  Yesterday I go outside to weed my other garden that has three brussel sprout plants, two jalapeno plants, some herbs and a tomato plant.  I find Jeff’s gas mask in my garden.  It has fallen off the deck railing and has hit one of my brussel sprouts, breaking it in half.  Not happy about that.  But forgiveness can be found, even though I may have to dig a little deeper this time.  Today, I go to water my squash plants.  WHAT THE HECK!  The same poor plant that got hacked week 1 has been attached again.  All the little blooms are gone, it’s like the man took a bush whacker to it.  This time I’m not even thinking an animal took a few munches, I can tell a weed eater attach when I see one.

“JEFF!  Did you weed eat my squash plant again?!?!”  I’m beginning to become a pretty grumpy gardener at this point.

“I”m sorry Babe!  I just start going along and then all of the sudden there it is.”

Whatever.

I finish my watering for the day on the deck.  There are several container plants growing as well as three long planters that I just planted spinach seeds in.  I’m stopped dead in my tracks.  Sand has been spread all over one of my spinach containers.  I have only one suspect.  He’s about 32″ tall and spends a significant amount of time in the sandbox.

I feel I may be fighting an uphill battle.  I am a grumpy gardener.