Let it be said that I’m not an experienced gardener. Whatsoever. I still stand there like an awkward 4th grader (without the perm) and watch as my mother instinctively knows what to do. And is 5 times faster at it than me. (Although in my defense, bending over is HARD when you’ve got a 10 pound butterball in the oven.) If I would turn my back for even a minute, she’d have the whole thing planted and probably already producing veggies. She’s got magical garden hands, for sure.
I spent a little bit of time watering Mom’s plants at her house while she was on vacation and her tomato plants are twice the size of mine. It’s probably all that Miracle Grow that’ll give you a 3rd belly button, but they sure looked…..robust…..compared to mine. She is also capable of keeping a hanging basket of flowers alive in 150 degree heat. I already killed my mothers day plant. That was $8 well spent.
I have Selective Brown Thumb Syndrome. As in, some of it dies, some of it lives.
This is the first year I’ve “lost” anything in my garden. Not a single carrot sprouted. Not one. How the heck does that happen? Sure, it freed up a bunch of space to guide the vining plants, but I sure would have liked to eat a dirt-covered fresh carrot. That’s what makes it so great, you know, the little bit of dirt crunch in there.
Perhaps the most tragic loss, though, is my peppers. I grew them special from seed in my dining room with love and care. And they stabbed me in the back when they hit the dirt in the backyard. Of the 14 I planted, 2 have survived and one is limping along like a 3-legged cat. I don’t know where I went wrong. Maybe not enough time acclimating them to the outdoors. Weaklings. Next year I’ll spend a $1.50 for the 4-pack at the Home Depot. Then if they die I can blame Home Depot and not suffer all this personal anguish.
I’m mainly just crabby because I have to buy peppers all year now.
The more I think about it, though, I don’t think my mom helped me plant the peppers. Maybe that’s the problem. If she’d have done it they would be alive today. Wait, no. She planted the carrots and those died. And that one row of corn she planted isn’t looking so hot. So maybe Selective Brown Thumb Syndrome is genetic. Although it clearly affects the next generation more profoundly.