I am not a grower. I do not have that gift.
My parents are both gifted gardeners. My grandmother has a 20 square food concrete back yard and grows he most amazing vegetables in it. Both of my father's parents have the gift. Both of my brothers have the gift. Somehow, I have been missed.
When I lived in Verdun, I tried (and failed) to keep plants to make if feel more homey. Yes, even the ones that 'No one can kill' did not have a chance under my care.
When watching my brother's cats and plants one weekend, I successfully drowned all of his seedlings, which he never made me feel bad about.
So I have been limiting my 'help' in the Vegetable garden. There are too many people banking on eating fresh tomatoes and cucumber for me to get overly involved. I can't handle the pressure.
I did find a gift for my uncanny ability to kill all things that grow in the earth. I have taken to weeding... this needs to be done often, and since killing plants is the main part of that job description, I am the best candidate by far. I am quite comfortable with this position, as I feel as though I am helping, and am not stressed about ruining our first ever vegetable garden on the farm.
So you can imagine my hesitation this weekend when dad needed help pruning the tomatoes. This raised all kinds of red flags for me. First of all, I'm thinking that the tomato plants look great... they have taken off and become a veritable jungle of greenery. They look very healthy to me. So dad explains that pruning them will allow more sun to get to the roots, and allow the plant to put it's energy into the actual fruit rather than into the non fruit bearing stems and leaves. This is logical, but still doesn't feel right so I am apprehensive. I know very well that I am in no position to start questioning the tried and true methods of the masters, so I plop myself onto the ground and start trimming away.
The first plant took the longest. I figured it would be just my luck to clip some kind of main artery and kill the damn thing. I could practically hear my father saying 'oh, you could have clipped any one but THAT one...' I checked each branch for flowers, and if I thought there was a chance in hell that the thing might develop flowers, I let it be. I wasn't going to be held responsible for the loss of ANY tomatoes. Before clipping each branch, I asked dad if it was ok.
After the first couple of plants, I started to get into a rhythm. My mind started to clear, and I started to relax. I started to breath the delicious aroma of the tomato plants, and listen to the birds calling each other. I wondered what they were saying. I heard Constentine snort, followed by the thunder of his hooves hitting the ground as he ran around in his paddock. I smiled as Batman called to him, obviously excited by the action.
And then I noticed another sound... It has been with me since I started, but I was too focused on not killing the tomatoes to notice... I was surrounded with a constant buzzing... I looked around and noticed that there were dozens of bees working away collecting pollen. My first reaction was to hightail it out of there, bees and wasps are my one and only phobia. as I was contemplating my escape route, I noticed that they did not seem to give a damn about me. They were all just going about their business, doing their jobs... So I decided to stay put. I worked for what was probably another hour, and not one bee gave me a second glance. Could gardening have cured me of my phobia? I started thinking, if I get stung, I get stung, can't hurt more than Constentine's love nibbles...
We decided to call it a morning, and when I stood up and looked at my hands, I couldn't help but chuckle. I concluded on my own that the term 'green thumb' likely came from describing someones hands after they had been prunning tomatoes all morning. both my thumbs (and the rest of my fingers) were actually green.
My parents are both gifted gardeners. My grandmother has a 20 square food concrete back yard and grows he most amazing vegetables in it. Both of my father's parents have the gift. Both of my brothers have the gift. Somehow, I have been missed.
When I lived in Verdun, I tried (and failed) to keep plants to make if feel more homey. Yes, even the ones that 'No one can kill' did not have a chance under my care.
When watching my brother's cats and plants one weekend, I successfully drowned all of his seedlings, which he never made me feel bad about.
So I have been limiting my 'help' in the Vegetable garden. There are too many people banking on eating fresh tomatoes and cucumber for me to get overly involved. I can't handle the pressure.
I did find a gift for my uncanny ability to kill all things that grow in the earth. I have taken to weeding... this needs to be done often, and since killing plants is the main part of that job description, I am the best candidate by far. I am quite comfortable with this position, as I feel as though I am helping, and am not stressed about ruining our first ever vegetable garden on the farm.
So you can imagine my hesitation this weekend when dad needed help pruning the tomatoes. This raised all kinds of red flags for me. First of all, I'm thinking that the tomato plants look great... they have taken off and become a veritable jungle of greenery. They look very healthy to me. So dad explains that pruning them will allow more sun to get to the roots, and allow the plant to put it's energy into the actual fruit rather than into the non fruit bearing stems and leaves. This is logical, but still doesn't feel right so I am apprehensive. I know very well that I am in no position to start questioning the tried and true methods of the masters, so I plop myself onto the ground and start trimming away.
The first plant took the longest. I figured it would be just my luck to clip some kind of main artery and kill the damn thing. I could practically hear my father saying 'oh, you could have clipped any one but THAT one...' I checked each branch for flowers, and if I thought there was a chance in hell that the thing might develop flowers, I let it be. I wasn't going to be held responsible for the loss of ANY tomatoes. Before clipping each branch, I asked dad if it was ok.
After the first couple of plants, I started to get into a rhythm. My mind started to clear, and I started to relax. I started to breath the delicious aroma of the tomato plants, and listen to the birds calling each other. I wondered what they were saying. I heard Constentine snort, followed by the thunder of his hooves hitting the ground as he ran around in his paddock. I smiled as Batman called to him, obviously excited by the action.
And then I noticed another sound... It has been with me since I started, but I was too focused on not killing the tomatoes to notice... I was surrounded with a constant buzzing... I looked around and noticed that there were dozens of bees working away collecting pollen. My first reaction was to hightail it out of there, bees and wasps are my one and only phobia. as I was contemplating my escape route, I noticed that they did not seem to give a damn about me. They were all just going about their business, doing their jobs... So I decided to stay put. I worked for what was probably another hour, and not one bee gave me a second glance. Could gardening have cured me of my phobia? I started thinking, if I get stung, I get stung, can't hurt more than Constentine's love nibbles...
We decided to call it a morning, and when I stood up and looked at my hands, I couldn't help but chuckle. I concluded on my own that the term 'green thumb' likely came from describing someones hands after they had been prunning tomatoes all morning. both my thumbs (and the rest of my fingers) were actually green.
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