Growing My Green Thumb

Ah, gardening.

It's a talent in others that I've always admired and one I've always wanted to master. I've put a lot more effort into the mastering part these past few years, although it has come at great cost to many green lovelies that have perished too soon under my black thumb. But my ability to keep flora alive seems to be gradually improving, especially as I learn what I should take a chance on and what I shouldn't in this striking(ly dry) state of ours.

[Strikingly dry, that is, except for the past two weeks when the skies have opened up and won't close because Colorado had an existential crisis and suddenly thinks it's Seattle.]

Anyway, one of the many wonderful things about our new home is the garden that I inherited. I'm feeling dorkishly giddy about it for a lot of reasons; topping the list is the determination it gives me to finally become a competent gardener, along with the fact that with so much of it already established, there's a good chance it might not all die under my watchful eye. I'm also pretty keen on the fact that if even just half of it makes it, we will be enjoying fresh garden eats all summer long!

We moved in during some pretty harsh weather at the end of February, but by the first week of March, the snow had melted enough for me to take an initial inventory.

There were four different raised beds, each divided into thirds...

Along with:

Two rows of grapevines.

Two rows of raspberry bushes (my favorite!).

And a tag on one little sapling that said it was a plumb tree!

The grapevines are out of season, while the raspberries are
already intent on taking over the entire garden!

Another bonus: in-ground sprinklers are already standard
in CO but the previous owners also ran a drip system
throughout the entire garden/landscaped area, so my
chances of actually keeping things alive are even higher!

The plumb tree tag blew off shortly after we moved in, so I
can't remember if it's the sapling on the left or in the middle.
Sadly, I think it may be the one on the left that doesn't
appear to have made it through the harsh winter.

I saw signs of life in at least two of the raised beds right off the bat. At first I thought these ruddy little knobs with tiny leaves were maybe radishes or beets:

Nope. Rhubarb! Lots and lots of tall, leafy rhubarb....

...which will go perfectly with the strawberries (my other favorite!) that have been thriving in all three sections of one of the other raised beds! I've got designs for strawberry rhubarb pie, and a friend already sent me a recipe for jam...I can hardly contain my excitement.

Thus far, I've learned that rhubarb care requires cutting the seed pods as soon as they start shooting up so it doesn't sap the rest of the plant's energy...

And cutting it off as close to the stalk as possible. Otherwise the ants like to come and have a party in the hallowed-out shoot, and then crawl up and eat holes in all the leaves. Grrrr. I got some of this organic vegetable spray, which is just a bunch of organic and essential oils mixed together, the most overpowering being garlic oil with a slight hint of peppermint so it smells like an Italian kitchen when you spray it. Which was good at first but then it started getting old and making me gag. But it appears to be keeping the ants away for now...

In three other sections of the raised beds, I found markers for tomatoes, cucumbers, and peppers--none of which come back around here. I've heard in the past that it's important to rotate the location of vegetables from year to year, and I'm not a huge fan of cucumbers or peppers. So in their place I've sowed lavender, spinach, and mint. (I was dreaming of lazy summer days spent relaxing next to some dried lavender, and sipping mojito with garden-fresh mint, and making fresh spinach and chicken salads...mmm.).

Lavender apparently doesn't always do well here, so we'll have to see if I can make it live. I already knew that mint likes to spread everywhere, so I thought keeping it in the raised bed would hopefully contain it a little. 

In one of the other raised bed sections, we will transplant these bean sprouts that Erik planted at school for Earth Day and brought home. For the rest, Erik and I made a quick trip to the nursery this past week, where we got three yellow cherry tomato seedlings. Erik also picked out summer squash and Asian red cabbage seed packets--both very good choices, I must submit.

Bean sprouts...

...and tomatoes!

We haven't planted the seeds yet since there is still a WINTER STORM ADVISORY for tomorrow, which would mean a SECOND MOTHER'S DAY IN A ROW WITH SNOW, and I have to figure out how to cover everything to keep it alive while not throwing and epic tantrum because SNOW IN MAY and MOTHER'S DAY we're just not going to talk about it anymore because it makes me want to do mean things and go crawl in a hole. 

Back to happy garden things:
A few weeks ago when I was exploring again, I found a tag on two tiny little bushes that said "Blueberries" (!!!).

Just look at these beauties.

A week or two later I saw that one of my bushes out back had tiny purple buds on it, and I realized it was a miniature lilac bush, one of my all-time childhood favorites (!!!!).

I wish your screen was scratch and sniff because this aroma is pure heaven.

And then this past week as I was walking past the deck, I looked down and suddenly saw buds that looked suspiciously like the peonies I remember from my childhood home--my other favorite! (!!!!!!!!)

Okay I admit I have a ton of favorites. But Brian Regan endorses me, sorry not sorry.

Can't wait to have some freshly cut peonies in the house!

Finally, the previous owners left this planter outside the back door, so I put it to use as an herb garden. The boys helped me plant basil, rosemary, parsley, sage, and oregano. Growing up, I loved being able to clip some fresh herbs for whatever we were cooking up that night, and I'm really hoping for some luck this year since my previous attempts at indoor herb gardens have failed. Miserably.

So that's the garden...and if all goes well, we might just be serving up some deliciousness in a few weeks (if the snow ever releases us from its misery, grrr.) Wish us luck!