I’ve always loved plants and was known to have a green thumb. It was the standard joke in our house that after Mom killed the plants, I would nurse them back to life. And so it went, Mom brought them to me with dry, curling brown leaves, all lifeless and pathetic.
Within a few weeks, I would have the plant thriving, green, full of life. “How do you do that?” my mother would ask. Turns out they just need water, mom.
Okay, it was a bit more complicated than that but, not much! When Mom would come to take the now healthy plant back both the plant and I would yell, “No!” I had to patiently explain to her that plants were not cats. They did not have nine lives.
My talents started and stopped with houseplants and later flower gardens planted around the house and down the walkways. So when my husband and I bought and moved to the farm he suggested putting in a vegetable garden. I did not know a think about vegetable gardens. I’m a city girl! I bought my vegetables from the store or the farmer’s market in Lincoln Park!
My husband, on the other hand, was raised on a farm. So I agreed we should have a vegetable garden and he would take care of it. He was diligent in working the soil every spring, planting the fresh vegetables he liked, mostly tomatoes and kohlrabi. And then he would promptly forget about it. So our vegetable garden soon became a weed garden.
Umm, I do not know much about vegetable gardens but I’m pretty sure they are supposed to grow vegetables. Like my mom’s plants, I started to take pity on the garden. I told my husband that he was no longer allowed to touch the garden that I would be taking over and he just smiled like the Cheshire cat that he is and said, “Okay.” I think I’ve been tricked!
My vegetable garden is now a part of my landscape and I am so happy I “took” it from my husband. – Ella