I have been babying my garden this year like it will expire, bolt or disappear if I don't watch it continuously.
Like many new gardeners, I am constantly surprised that what I planted early in the spring has grown. Not everything has grown well (I'm talking to you, butternut squash) but, for the most part, my garden has taken off including, surprisingly, most of the vegetables that I planted from seed.
Previous to this summer, the only things that I have grown from seed were chives in a window box for a science experiment in fifth grade and in Victoria one year I dumped a packet of assorted wildflowers on my patchy and strange-looking garden.
That was also the year that I discovered delphiniums in my local garden store on sale and planted them haphazardly around the garden.
I did read the package where it mentioned they could grow over four to five feet and that I should plant them in groupings in the back of the garden.
Pshhaw.
What did they know?
My five foot spikes grew up and made my garden look like it was being invaded by skinny aliens.
My elderly tenant at the time stood with me and kindly said that the delphiniums looked like soldiers standing tall and protecting the garden. That was nice, but untrue.
It just looked dumb.
Determined from that summer onwards, to pay attention to what the plant tag suggested, I vowed that never again would I be lazy and I would do my best to allow for growing space. I would nurture and care for my garden as if it were a child.
Then we moved to Prince George and had actual children wherein I discovered that a successful garden included remembering to water and convincing the children and the dog that digging in the newly planted vegetable bed is not fun.
(They didn't believe me).
After replanting and reseeding a few areas, I am pleased to see that even if my carrots are no longer in tidy little rows, at least they are growing.
There has been a few disappointments this year.
Last week, I looked more closely at a plant that I have been diligently watering for the last few months to realize that I have been lovingly nurturing a weed.
I am proud of how well some plants are growing. My lavender is looking beautiful and my lilies are stunning, although, I am puzzled about the sheer volume of sage this year.
How on earth did I end up with two sage plants and what am I going to do with them?
Cook one thousand turkeys? Who uses sage anyway?
If you need me this summer, I'll be the person scouring Pinterest looking for ways to use up sage leaves.
If you end up with sage-infused olive oil for Christmas, you'll know why.
