Gardening Disaster: I Am an Army of One

Earlier this month I posed the question, “Gardening Disaster: Am I the Only One?” Because it seemed to me that everyone in America suddenly had the natural ability to effortlessly grow bushels of organic fruit and vegetables. Meanwhile, I planted two 1×4-foot container gardens and was immediately battling worms, fungus and some unknown kind of squash cancer. Is it really that easy for everyone else, I wondered, or were there other gardening failures out there, shamefully tending backyard brown patches of doom?

Cherry tomatoes by Laurie Sterbens

These fell off into my hand as I was tying up my cherry tomato plants, so they were either ripe or suicidal.

Nope. Apparently I am the only one. I posted on Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn, and the overwhelming response was: … (crickets).

So, a gardening-impaired army of one, I keep fighting. I’m seeing signs that I might eventually beat this crop-failure thing, but I am also puzzled by new bits of agricultural weirdness. And I continue to find pests sneaking around under the leaves.

The other morning I went out to find a small black worm on a tomato plant and promptly flicked him into outer space. I then found a big green caterpillar trying to hide under a leaf. It didn’t look like a giant, evil hornworm; it was more of a cuddly cartoon caterpillar, and my son immediately fell in love with it. It also had much grabbier feet than the black worms, so instead of being flicked into outer space, it was humanely delivered to one of the shrubs in the front yard that I wish something would eat.

Miniature Bell Pepper Plant by Laurie Sterbens

Life is a party for this miniature bell pepper plant, which has sprouted a new round of tiny blossoms. Now check out the leafless, emaciated stick just north of it. This was the pepper plant's identical twin, treated exactly the same way. Crazy plants.

My two cherry tomato plants lost most of their lower leaves to fungus, but the top halves are doing quite well and in fact seemed to grow a foot overnight. I never thought they’d get big enough to have to tie to stakes, but they were beginning to flop over, so I recruited an ornamental trellis from another part of the yard (that I hadn’t gotten around to putting an actual plant on) and tied the plants to it. While I was doing this, four ripe tomatoes fell off into my hands, so I took that to mean they were ripe though they might have just been suicidal. They weren’t quite as red as the storebought cherry tomatoes I had in the kitchen, but they were red enough. In a taste test, they weren’t as sweet as the professional tomatoes, but they tasted fresh and homegrown. I’m going to count this as a success. So far I’ve harvested two miniature bell peppers and four cherry tomatoes, bringing my vegetable cost per unit down to $10!

There was another miniature bell pepper that made it to a beautiful bright orange — and then the plant died. Meanwhile, its identical twin, purchased at the same time from the same store and treated exactly the same way, is growing beautifully and has sprouted a new round of blossoms. Go figure.

The most success I’ve had with anything has been with the marigolds that I planted too many of in hopes of repelling insects, along with one my son grew from a seed in kindergarten. With one failed pepper plant and an ailing squash plant, I began to wonder if the marigolds were crowding out my vegetables. So I moved them into separate containers and stationed them near the other plants so they can still stand guard.

I then moved the squash plant into a squash intensive care unit, which may end up being a squash hospice. It’s been three days and it seems slightly happier, but that could be my overly optimistic imagination.

Speaking of overly optimistic, I’ve just approached my builder neighbor about putting together a couple of raised beds. I may be an army of one, but if I fail I’m going to go out in a blaze of … um, dirt.

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