Terry and I have not had great luck with our attempts at vegetable gardening. We like to blame it on the deer who are brazen enough to come up on our back patio and nibble at even the tiniest sprout of a cherry tomato plant in a soup can. But we haven’t really done much better with the houseplants in our garden room and so far the deer have not managed to flip the door latch on the sliding door.
But that won’t keep us from trying again this year. Terry has planted shrub beans (we love green beans) and onions. And, of course the spring gardening articles continue to inspire me. Unfortunately, my aspirations exceed my “naturnal inclinations”. (like maternal, but related to things in the natural world)
Still, a recent article in the Temple Daily Telegram (Life Section May 16, 2010) makes me want to keep trying. “Growing food in pots can be easier than planting” has a certain appeal to me, but there’s no rational reason why it should. After all, my recent exploits with all sorts of plants in pots has net rather dismal outcomes. I used to be good at this sort of thing. A plucked coleus leaf would spring from a plastic cup under my care. Vines would trail along dividing walls and a beloved dracena once sprouted three stalks, grew to the ceiling and then turned a right angle and grew another four inches before flowering. These brief moments of horticultural grandeur keep me plugging away. I had it once; it can’t be that far gone.
Besides, the article quotes a woman who says, “It’s so easy to put a tomato into a pot. It almost grows itself.” Surely I can grow something that grows itself.
So I’ll follow the instructions in the paper and experiment bringing together food and flowers as the article urges. I’ll try that “eye catching” combination of cucumbers, coleus and begonias. Having a rosemary that has overtaken my front garden – my one success – I’m less certain that I’ll try potted rosemary surrounded by lettuce, I like the sound of viola delicately tucked among some long-legged broccoli plants and spinach growing alongside mounded chrysanthemums. But it all sounds so easy that I can’t help but be suspicious.
If I can at least pull of the potted lemon tree featured in the article, none of the rest will matter. I’ll just make lemonade and enjoy a gardening-free afternoon.
A








We have a week of travels to write about. A week of memories on the road – 1500 miles, six states, three days, two hotel stops, and twenty minutes of video. And we have a wedding to plan for – one week one hour and seven minutes from now. But for now, we are finally slowing down enough to enjoy our first cup of coffee on our patio in Salado. It’s slightly muggy, but cool for Texas and there is a light breeze. The best part is that the cactus I planted has its first blooms on it. (yeah, my dad thought that was a weird thing to plant since most everyone here tries to get rid of them, but it’s a thornless cactus!)