Last fall, I moved to an apartment with a balcony in Brooklyn and promised myself that I would learn how to garden. heirloom seeds online So I set myself one goal that seemed reasonable: to have one vegetable grown from seed.
Spring is here, and when I open the bag of seeds I so confidently ordered a few months ago, I find that most of them are shockingly tiny. Would adding a drop more water make this go away? I doubted it, but after Googling things like “too much water vs. too little water” and reading a bunch of quickly-forgotten gardening tips, I planted the seeds. Starter Tray They are by the living room window, and if all goes according to plan they will be big enough to go outside by the time the evening temperatures drop enough that they won’t die.
“I’m not sure if this will work,” I told a friend who owns a nearby community garden. “The seed wants to grow,” she replied. To my great relief, and sure enough, within a few days, a little sprout appeared.
Since then, I’ve started checking on my seeds first thing every morning. If I go away for the weekend, I put my bag down as soon as I get back, grab a pitcher of water and head straight for the seeds. As I sit on the floor of my apartment repotting them, April 5th earthquake It hit New York City, and I had to wipe the dirt off my hands before checking my phone to figure out what was going on.
But by mid-April, things looked a bit bleak: my plants had wilted; they didn’t seem to be big enough to warrant moving outdoors, but I followed the planting schedule. Based on the last frost Anyway, I was glad to have a reason to get outside so early, and gardening had made me more weather-aware. The wind was a minor nuisance until a thin-stemmed plant I wanted to survive was in its path. The temperature was something I felt when I opened the balcony door each morning, not something I checked first on the weather app on my phone.
One day, while filling the kitchen sink with water, I realized that I hadn’t spent much time growing it as a beginner. It felt good to experience the frustrations and joys of someone just starting out. When I planted the beans, I remembered how little I knew. I ordered Hidatsa Shield Beans Mainly because they are so beautiful. When it came time to plant the seeds, I was stumped. If you plant a bean, it will multiply into… lots of beans? Grow into some kind of beanstalk? But instead of turning to the internet for quick answers, I decided to surprise myself.
Spring turned to summer. My crop of snap peas died of heatstroke, by the dozen. My plans to grow juicy heirloom tomatoes ended up with brown rot, likely caused by overwatering, underwatering, overfertilizing, underfertilizing, or the pressure of being the most coveted plant. My cucumbers, which had thrived, turned bulbous and tasted… weird. I’ll never be a young Martha Stewart in 2024. Wearing dirty jeans and a cream-colored cable-knit sweater, she holds up a pile of vegetablesbut still had a good time.
Despite some setbacks and a meager harvest, I was able to achieve and even exceed my goal. I loved snipping fresh rosemary and chives from the pots. I made some kale salads from the balcony to the table. My favorite plants are Ground Cherry First arriving in North America with Russian immigrants, it’s grown from seeds passed down by generations of women. Peel back the papery shell and it tastes like sugary ’90s cereal (in a good way). Plus, it’s brought non-vegetable rewards, like watching bees buzzing on your balcony or chatting with your neighbors about what they’re growing.
I recently texted a friend who’s been gardening in California for years. “Beginners are amazed when a plant grows from seed, but experienced gardeners expect it,” I wrote. He replied, “I think any gardener will take delight in what they grow.” It’s nice to see that excitement continue with experience.
I made a lot of mistakes this first summer, but I didn’t let that stop me from enjoying the process. Everything I grew, though low risk, thrilled me. When something didn’t work, I learned what I could or blamed it on the heat, which is easy to do in August in Brooklyn. I’m still a little heartbroken over those tomatoes, but overall, the whole gardening experience was a good reminder that you don’t have to be particularly good at something to enjoy it. I’m already planning for next year, and I also have a new goal: to grow at least one big, juicy heirloom tomato.
Do you garden? What do you like to grow? Any tips?
A PS 14 reader shows us a San Francisco home with gorgeous grounds and beautiful gardens.
(Photo taken by the author)
Source: Cup of Jo – cupofjo.com
