I had been married just a little over a year. My husband and I were grocery shopping on a beautiful Saturday morning in May. We rounded a corner and encountered a rack of garden seeds. There I saw it–a picture of a beautiful red, juicy tomato. The one we could be enjoying in just a couple of months if only I planted those seeds.
I had always enjoyed growing plants, though my only experience so far had been an asparagus fern and an airplane plant that I grew in my room as a teenager. Oh, and there was that morning glory I grew outside my apartment in grad school. But, now I was ready for a plant that produced food! I pointed out the tomatoes to my husband, who said, "Sure sweetheart; that sounds great." He grabbed a seed packet and tossed it in our shopping cart.
Planting Those First Tomato Seeds
The place I had in mind to plant those gorgeous tomatoes was the little cut-out on our patio. The accompanying illustration will give you the details of my gardening area (and a few good laughs). Now, this really was my only choice, as we were apartment dwellers. We lived in a two-story building. On the east side was the patio. The patio was surrounded on the north, east, and south by a six-foot stockade fence. The small area on the northeast corner of the patio represents the little cutout where there was some poor, compacted soil.
Upon our arrival at the apartment, I knew I must get my seeds in the ground. No time to waste! It was then I realized I didn't own any gardening tools. Somehow, I scratched around in the hard-as-a-rock soil (not even weeds were growing there) with a stick or a screwdriver or something. I covered the seeds (mostly with dust) and faithfully watered every day before and after work.
My First Tomato Plants Emerge
A few of the seeds did manage to sprout. Somehow, though, they never seemed to really thrive. In fact, "not thriving" is an understatement. I watered them and talked to them. (As a teenager, I had been told that talking to plants was good, and it seemed to work for my airplane plant.) The tomatoes just did not seem to like me. The beautiful red fruits just did not materialize even with my faithful watering. The plants were short and spindly.
Finally, in October, the one remaining plant produced a shriveled red thing. It was about the size of a cherry tomato, or at least that is the size I think it would have been if it had not been so shriveled. This was not the big beefsteak tomato like the one on the seed packet. Where had I gone wrong?
I concluded that I just did not have a green thumb, and should give up on gardening.
Learning From Mistakes When Gardening
It was seven years until I had a chance to grow any garden again. That's when we purchased our first home. With the home came a yard and that meant I could try again at growing something edible. I was worried that my lack of a green thumb might cause me more trouble. The realtor said herbs were easy to grow, and coincidentally I found a book about herbs on a good sale at a hardware store.
The purchase of that book (which I still own) revealed a host of secrets-of-people-with-green-thumbs. For instance, some plants need full sun while others need partial sun or shade. Guess what my tomatoes needed but did not have.
The two-story apartment building on the west side of my patio (I refer you again to the illustration and invite you to get another laugh) prevented my tomatoes from getting any afternoon sun. The six-foot fence on the east blocked morning sun. So, my tomatoes got, maybe, one hour of sun per day. If only I had read the back of the seed packet, I might have had some second thoughts about planting tomatoes in that space!
Learning Process Never Ends for Gardeners
Of course, lack of sun was not the only nail in the coffin for my first tomatoes. I should have amended the soil or grown in containers. The seeds were planted at the wrong time of year for my area, and the plants needed fertilizer. Tomatoes were a poor choice for this low-light area. I should have tried salad greens. In other words, I did everything wrong!
The only thing I did right was to try again. I have learned that there really is no such thing as a green thumb. Anyone who wants to learn can acquire knowledge and become a successful gardener. A sense of humor helps too!
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