My Mr Max is 13.
A real teenager. Almost a man.
I love it.
I love watching him grow into the man he will be.
My Mr Max is 13.
A real teenager. Almost a man.
I love it.
I love watching him grow into the man he will be.
But I always really want it to be.
As soon as the seed catalogs start rolling in I want it to be spring.
I start sketching in my notebook and dreaming about tomatoes.
I spend about $5K in my mind and then I whittle it down. In the end I buy about 90% of what I want on impulse from my local farm store, missing out of the exotic varieties I picked in the seed catalogs.
I did place a small order to a company called Rare Seeds. I got the weirdest tomatoes varieties I could find. Of course, then I start making grand plans about saving my seeds next year. Like homemade Halloween costumes, I always intend to do this and just never actually do. Still, I try a few new gardening things every year year. Maybe this year it will be saving seeds.
As I as pondering my gardening history I started thinking back about my very early adventures into trying to grow stuff.
I started growing flowers back in my house in college, think 1999ish. I always loved gardening, but the thought of growing food really hadn't occurred to my brain yet. It all started around 2003 with a few un-staked and untended plain old red tomato plants in an empty spot next to the house. I didn't even eat tomatoes back then and I planted them to humor Josh.
Then in 2009 I got the bug for square foot gardening. I read the book and had my two 4/4ft beds with a 3ft/8 foot tomato bed. I learned a great deal about how to use my space in a garden and to not plant things in a traditional rows. It was a very obtainable little starting point.
Side note: I come from an endless line of gardeners. My father loves to garden, and he and I share a love for over reading and researching our gardening. I promise I have read more books about gardening than I did to get my master in nursing. My grandfather was a agronomy professor at Purdue and during the great depression had an apple farm in Canada. Generations further back had proper English gardens. As a child I remember my dad having me pick up a handful of some gorgeous Indiana soil and told me to smell it. I've taught my kids to do the same thing and I tell them, "It smells like magic". That black soil is impossible to not appreciate.
By 2010 I had fallen madly in-love with gardening and what it does for my soul. Eleven years ago I posted about it. (Damn, is this blog really that old?) I made the classic mistake of trying to start seeds my very first year. Spoiler - it didn't go well. I might have forgotten to water them for long periods of time.
In March 2014 I did a blog post talking about how much I love gardening and how it completes my soul. By then I had the pretty little cottage garden and had added a huge back garden. I want to say it was 20ft by 120 ft. A beast of a garden. I had three large tomato beds. Two rows of blueberries and grapes. It was a beast of maintenance and I have to say, that it wasn't always kept to the best degree. The front garden was tidy and well tended, but the other gardens had a free and wild feel.
I have always wanted to learn to can, but was intimidated by the process. I started off the canning season by spending a day helping Jamie can salsa. She taught me the basics and helped me get a better understanding.
I have had such a great year in my garden that I couldn't let all those tomatoes go to waste. After getting my first canning lesson, I decided to toughen up and get myself going.