Accidental Gardener

Some seasons are better than others.

For everything.

Life. Health. Happiness.

Some of it totally out of our control. Dare I say most of it.

Even gardening. Some seasons are better than others. And some things are out of our control. Or, at least, out of my control.

I love gardening. Relish the actual planting. Ready to hunker down and patiently witness the fruits of my labor. Whether it’s an actual fruit or a beautiful blossom.

But with me? It’s tricky. I forget what I plant. At the beginning of the season I am at the starting line, organized with “plant markers”, and ready to go! Then it all slowly falls by the wayside.

One minute I’m thinking I sowed peas and much to my surprise a pile of beans rises from the soil. Or even one bean 🙂 Whatever. Aren’t peas just the lil fellas inside beans?

It’s all so confusing.

I was happily showing my raised garden bed to my friend, Karen.

I said, “Nothing yet but I think that one’s a pepper plant.”

Her response, “It doesn’t look like a pepper plant to me.”

Anyway, don’t want to digress.

This year was no different when it comes to the “Wonder what’s in Mary’s garden” theme.

For months I thought I was going to find zucchini crawling up the trellis. Nope. Baby, we got pickles. Pickles, baby!

Due to weather it was not a bumper crop this season. Of anything. Tomatoes took longer and wanted to peak in the Fall. Nothing in the garden really wowed me. My interest waned.

Except for a couple of potted plants. I was beginning to shift pots on the back patio. Deciding which ones would join us inside for the harsh winter months.

Besides the bright geraniums I was definitely leaning toward my lemon and fig trees. Had me a little Mediterranean thing going. Honestly, though, neither did much of anything except survive the summer. Just like me.

But I had noticed my fig tree recently showing signs of bearing fruit. I had mentioned this, in passing, to my husband. He, who literally hails from the native land of figs. But I didn’t show him my observations.

Yesterday, I moved the fig tree into the house. Proudly showed my husband the start of a glorious fruit. This beautiful, healthy plant, although a late bloomer, was finally showing its true colors.

He took one look at it and said, “That’s not a fig.”

I said, “What??? Yes, it most certainly is. That’s what’s on the label.”

“So, humans never make mistakes and mislabel something?”

“No, I’m sure it’s a fig plant.”

He continued, “Mary, it’s not a fig. It’s a freaking eggplant.”

I still didn’t believe him. No matter what my eyes told me. I immediately began an internet search for fig leaf and fruit images.

So, you see my confusion? Laugh out loud.

Then, there is this. My compost bin. A symbiotic relationship if ever there was one. I fill it with dry clippings, fruits, vegetables and it generously produces organic matter which will enhance my soil. We both benefit.

But said bin now appears to be moonlighting as a tomato vender. These accidental tourists, who I neglected because they weren’t in my “planned” gardens, exploded. I could hardly access the bin with all the tomatoes springing out of it. Almost October in New England. Always a surprise.

Let’s just say this post is fraught with meaning and lessons. Take from the bounty what you will. Or need.

Sometimes the best things are unplanned.

Planning can be a good thing. But be flexible.

Labels are meaningless.

Listen to those in the know.

Embrace the unintended.

Control what you can-let everything else go.

If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck and looks like a duck -it might just be a duck.

If you can’t tell a zucchini from a summer squash? Who actually cares? Don’t beat yourself up. Probably tastes like chicken anyway.

Wishing you the very best week. Intentional or not.