I do not have a green thumb. I don’t. I am not exaggerating.
On a spectrum of colors, my thumb is around pitch black.
My un-green-thumbness started the day after I graduated from high school. As I packed up my car for the big city (a college town of 60,000) I was given my first house plant by the wife of one of the local church leaders.
I thought it was cool, one of the many firsts I was about to experience (You know those firsts: First time you realized paying your own rent and trying to go to work and school was difficult, the first time you saw a mouse in our house and didn’t know what to do, the first time you realized that Ramon Noodles, if eaten in the proper amount, could be *potentially* filling, and the first time you get stuck with a suck-butt roommate) When I got to MY home, I placed the flower in the window, and smiled. I was so grown up, I had my first plant and everything.
Then it died. Three days later.
Since then, it has been a continuous cycle of plant death – no matter where I put them, what I feed them, how much I water them, the kind of soil they are transplanted into – they all die. No only am I able to kill your average houseplant, I am able to kill silk flowers too. Apparently you aren’t suppose to put silk flowers in the washer when they get dusty. Who knew!
It really is a fortunate thing that I have never had to go to a long-term inpatient substance abuse program, as many tell you before you are ready for a relationship, you must keep a plant alive for a year. After that, you move onto a pet for a year. Then, if plant and dog survive, you can have a human.I would never have a human. Hell, I wouldn’t even graduate to hamster.
So, given my history, why in the hell would I decide it may be a good idea to start a garden? Well, maybe since it is veg and a garden and outside, there is an advantage to survival, mainly being not in the same house with me. At any rate, we have a HUGE backyard that we share with our neighbor to the left and to the right. No one uses the backyard except my kids and that is only when it is cool enough, dragon flies are not out, and there are no lizards (so, pretty much never in New Orleans), so I decided to turn the very back plot into a garden.
I don’t have a clue as to what I am doing. Seriously, I don’t.
But, I am determined to have my damn garden and feed my family veg that I grew on my own , dang it! If Caroline on Little House on the Prairie can save the grain crop and make flour while Charles is breaking rock by hand in another town, I can grow a damn string bean.
Now…. where to start?
Music For the Day: Jim Croce