Did I mention that I know nothing about plants? Nothing. And there's this whole gardening vocabulary. Who knew that deadheading was an activity that has nothing to do with the Grateful Dead? It's really confusing when the tie dye T-shirt wearing stoner at your local garden store tells you to give it a try. And what about mulching? It sounds vaguely sexual, like a word for when two people with mullets make out.
From what I've learned there are two kinds of plants: Annuals and Perennials.
Annuals: they die when it gets cold, so really you're just renting them
Perennials: they thrive despite 10 months of neglect
I also bought some herb seeds - basil, rosemary, and thyme. I had a lot of left over seeds so I planted those in the ground. At first I followed the instructions, poking the seeds into quarter inch deep holes spaced one inch apart (or whatever). I finished up and had a look. I started thinking that probably some seeds where defective. And I mean, how do those seeds even know which way is up? Wouldn't some of them grow the wrong way by accident? To cover my bases I doubled back and planted more seeds. There. But what about birds and racoons and that stray cat that Roan thinks is his pet? They would probably screw things up, and I was feeling really invested in my garden's success. I tripled back and planted more seeds. Finally satisfied, I watered the whole thing with Jay's french press. Then I stared at the plot for a while. Not like I expected anything to happen so soon, but it didn't look right. There was something unpromising about all that wet dirt. I still had a lot of seeds left over so I tossed them on top of the soil, like sprinkles on a cup cake, just for good measure.
People who are really good at something make it look easy. Celebrity chefs don't even measure stuff when they cook on TV, as if they are saying, measuring is for suckers. I always go for that kind of carelessness when trying something new, which is probably why new ventures so rarely work out for me. Tossing those seeds on the dirt reminded me of Jamie Oliver or Tyler Florence, letting salt fall through their fingers, confident that it was just the right amount. I felt that if I could channel that kind of self-assurance then my garden would work, in spite of the fact that I'd disregarded the rules.
Waiting for my seeds to sprout, I realized just how deeply sunk in our culture of instant gratification I am. The next morning, nothing was happening. Half a week passed: nothing. Each morning I checked, and was disappointed. Even my sister, who is terrible at calling me back, is more on the ball than these plants.
Then, one morning: sprouts! Everywhere!
Looks like those seeds weren't defective after all
wow, I feel famous--I was referenced in your blog! Really funny post---I am also looking to garden a bit this year and am in the same position as you---clueless. But your plants look really pretty so you must be doing something right.
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