Plants and I are not a good fit. My “garden” is a lovely overgrown 8′ x10′ paved-over plot in the back of my townhouse which due to my travel schedule for work last year grew to a weedy knee-high vine tangled mess (through the brick and concrete, no less). The fence, which belongs to my neighbors, is caving in and more than a little rusty. And the whole thing is shade-covered most of the day- which seems to be the optimum sun for the weeds who have made it their home.
Every year I resolve to do something about it, so I can have my morning coffee out back in the sunshine without risking being devoured by the vines. This spring is no different. I went out a few weeks ago with a saw to chop down the unwanted TREE that had somehow taken root near the foundation. I grabbed at the weeds coming up through the walkway and bagged them up. I bought the super dynamo weed killer, the best shovel and gardening gloves that Wal-Mart had to offer and some seeds that claimed to be happy in the shade. I even had BC over, the king of the green thumbs, to consult on the miserable little patch.
What I really need is to dig up, rake, and re-start the whole thing from scratch. And the time to do that. Oh, and a rake.
I fantasize about my little seeds growing in the one tiny bed into a fragrant corner of lush green and white. A tiny bistro set to sit and write at, that my landlord will decide to replace the fencing with something wooden and covered in flowering buds and ivy, and that people will look forward to summer brunches of pancakes, bacon, and mimosas in my little garden nook.
But so far? I seem to kill everything but weeds. I feel guilty for accidentally shoveling earthworms out of their homes. And I flinch a little when I snip the roots of some evil plant- I think I expect them to scream a little. My garden is a work in progress. There are little green things trying to grow- if I can manage to leave them alone long enough to do so.
Who knows? Maybe this is the year that something springs up. And if not, well, I can’t say I didn’t try. And if worse comes to worse, I can always hang a Topsy-Turvy and grow some tomatoes. Maybe I can only grow things upside down.