We've had a string of sunny days with mild (at times even warm!) weather and it has me thinking spring-y thoughts. Specifically, my mind always seems to turn to planting things.
This seems normal enough. After all, spring is the time when gardeners go out and get their seeds started in greenhouses or maybe even out in the garden beds if the last frosts are out of the way.
But I am not a gardener. At least, not yet. I am TERRIBLE with plants. Have you ever heard that advice, "Before you have a baby, get a pet. Before you get a pet, take care of a plant?" Well, I'm glad that my ability to care for pets and babies has not been in any way related the way I take care of plants; otherwise I'd be in jail. I'm the worst plant mom ever. Plants regularly meet their end under my non-watchful eye. I'm pretty sure this is because plants do not make noise when they need something. If they meowed or squalled or did something to get my attention, I would attend to them. But as it is they fade into the background and after awhile they are no more. I've even killed--by negligence--so-called "air plants" that thrive in deserts and require next to no water.
Sigh. Every year I tell myself that it will be different this time. This time I really WILL remember to water. Really! And yet every year I find myself plantless once again. Last summer I planted marigolds along the path to our house; only one came up, and even that was a miracle, because I think I remembered to water them once. Maybe twice.
A few summers ago I did have a modestly successful gardening experience. I was in a house with no yard to speak of but a lovely backyard patio and I grew several containers of cherry tomatoes, and they yielded a nice crop. Maybe I'll shoot for that again this year, since we probably won't live in this house long enough to harvest anything planted in the yard. Maybe, too, my kids can help me remember to water things. If I made watering Ruby's job, the plants would never be under-watered, that's for sure. Drowned plants might be more likely.
It's all very ironic because I come from a fine line of green thumb gardenistas. My grandma has amazing flower and vegetable gardens, as does my mom. Plants just love them. They are amazing gardeners. My mom always had to move all the houseplants into one room in the summers that I stayed home to housesit so I wouldn't forget (as much) to water them.
Anyway, those are my musings of the evening. I love the smell of potting soil, I love the promise held by those racks of seeds in the stores, and I do love eating fresh grown produce or looking at fresh cut flowers. It's all the in-between part that I haven't mastered.
Yet. This year, though, THIS year...well, it's going to be different. :)