Does my garden have to be perfect?

A Texan Tale of Gardening Adventures: From Pregnancy to Peppers

Embarking on a gardening journey in the scorching heat of a Texas summer while pregnant might sound like the beginning of a comedy sketch, but for me, it was a lifeline. Picture this: me, waddling around, armed with watering cans and a belly that could rival any watermelon.

My initial plan was ambitious—I wanted to grow peppers and tomatoes from scratch. But with the Texas sun beating down and my energy levels resembling those of a snail on a lazy Sunday, I decided to take a shortcut. Off I went to the local nursery, supporting small businesses and unintentionally embarking on a crash course in horticulture.

Now, let’s talk about Texas clay. If you’ve never had the pleasure of wrestling with it, count yourself lucky. I, however, unknowingly planted my new green babies right into that stubborn clay, blissfully ignorant of the challenges ahead.

Surprisingly, they thrived. With daily doses of love (and water), those little plants flourished, much like my sense of pride and joy. It was like watching my own tiny vegetable empire rise from the soil.

But then came the Great Tomato Heist. Picture this: innocent tomatoes disappearing faster than socks in a laundry machine. The culprit? Squirrels. Yes, those fluffy-tailed bandits were staging a raid on my prized produce. Yet, amidst the chaos, we managed to salvage a few, and oh, were they worth it. Sweet, juicy, and a testament to the resilience of a Texas gardener.

From that moment on, I was hooked. Gardening became more than just a hobby; it was therapy. A break from the chaos of pregnancy and work life, a chance to connect with nature and nurture something outside of myself.

And here’s the thing I wish someone had told me sooner: gardening isn’t about perfection. It’s about embracing the mess, the mishaps, and the occasional squirrel thief. Whether you start in May or September, from seeds or seedlings, there’s no wrong way to begin.

So, to all the aspiring gardeners out there, let yourself off the hook. Embrace the dirt, the sweat, and the occasional squirrel-induced heartache. Because in the end, it’s not just about what you grow—it’s about the journey, the lessons learned, and the tomatoes stolen by furry bandits along the way. Happy gardening, y’all!