My first introduction to gardening was after my family had settled into the rural northern Alberta hamlet of Cherry Grove. I was a teenager, and for the most part gardens simply meant more tedious chores. My mother had a small patch, but I didn't pay much attention to it. I was too busy demanding the world revolve around me and worrying about looking pretty.
The first major impression a garden made on me (and one that still does to this day), was my aunt and uncle's garden. Again, this was in northern Alberta, right in a 1b hardiness zone (2a if you were lucky), so growing things wasn't something that came easily to zealous gardeners. As a teen, every so often I'd get sent over to this large plot to help my cousins pick peas or raspberries. There was always tons of everything, and my aunt had a root cellar as well as a cold storage room that were consistently full of potatoes, carrots, and preserves. My aunt (and several ladies in the area) was a canning machine, and there was always pickled everything: cucumbers, carrots, beets, beans, as well as jams, jellies, butters and mmmmm... peaches. It wasn't just that the garden was amazingly productive, but also that their home was stocked year-round with deliciousness created right there. Sure they bought groceries too, but between the home baking, the fresh produce, and the canned goods, I'd venture to guess that their grocery bill was never very high (especially for a family of seven). In addition to all this, they occasionally kept sheep, chickens, and rabbits that were seasonally butchered. At that time, the craze for self-sustainability and organic produce was more or less unknown. Everyone in the community had wells, everyone grew food, traded or sold what they had with other families, yet I don't think of it as being any sort of commune or archaic lifestyle, it was just what people did. There was still TV, public schools, a town close by... it was just a busy little hamlet of acreages. Mind you, those on the outside certainly must have seen it as an odd little place, but mainly due to the abundance of related neighbors and the strong thread of mormonism in the community. That's a different story though.
Anyway, my first garden was later, after I had moved away and was coming back during the summers to live with my grandmother. She was getting a bit stiff to garden, so one year I decided I'd give it a try. How hard could it be? It wasn't hard at all, but in retrospect I know why. Our neighbor came to rototill the plot, my uncle dumped a load of manure from his ranch, and on the May long-weekend I planted it. Then while I was at work, my cousin came and planted it again, so when it came down to what was where, we had no idea. My grandma advised me which sprouts were veggies and which were weeds, and in a couple of weeks we had a jungle of produce coming up. I watered and weeded diligently in the evenings after work, and began to love the meditative tranquility of caring for this piece of ground. Once, a scruffy old robin came by, waiting for the bugs to pop out of the dirt as I watered. It must have been partially blind, because it stood right next to me, not much more than a foot away, just watching and occasionally snapping up a bug or worm. It was lovely. We also had the sort of summer where the days were long and hot and it rained almost every night.
That summer I got peas, corn, squash, zucchini, carrots, beans, beets, potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, turnips, swiss chard, sunflowers (planted by birds) and a few others that presently escape me. Everything was lush, robust, and delicious. I don't remember having pest problems or any kind of rot or soil issues.
With that easy of a start, I assumed that gardening was a cinch! My next few gardens were successful as well, but a few lessons were learned: don't plant tomatoes too early, veggie plants need lots of sun, thinning out plants is vital (and hard to do when there are so many enthusiastic plants!) and good seeds are important. All things considered, however, I left that experience believing that growing veggies was no biggie.
Since then I've lived in various cities, and have occasionally given growing stuff a try. My growth successes always seem to be a bit flukey, mainly just getting into it wondering what I could get to grow. I'd sprout apricot, apple, and cherry seeds from grocery store produce and then have nowhere to put them. At the first home that I owned, I tried a small garden in a shaded area, and very naively planted tomatoes in it. The poor things sprawled and gasped towards sunshine. The previous owners had left an amazing herb garden though, and it was when I first learned to appreciate the value of fresh herbs. Mainly, my mother-in-law (now ex-mother-in-law) handled most of that garden's maintenance. I didn't spent too much time with it, as my marriage was disintegrating at the same time, and I was soon living elsewhere. I missed that yard a lot though. I had been particularly excited about planting raspberry bushes.
From that time to just recently, I didn't do much by way of growing plants. I was moving around a lot, busy with art school and embarking on a career in art and writing. I once planted some basil seeds that grew amazingly well on my window sill, but then pruned them terribly and lost them. When my first daughter came along, we lived in a fourplex that had a shared yard, and our neighbor was an avid gardener. She had the backyard bursting with flowers and tomatoes every year. I've always been more keen on veggie plants, and put in a feeble attempt at planting some in a semi-shaded area in the front yard. Again, it wasn't a great success. Looking back, I'm pretty sure that, aside from the squirrels claiming the area as their official nut-hiding haven, the soil was very acidic, it was too shady, and I didn't add any sort of fertilizer or compost to it. I don't think anything even sprouted that year.
Nevertheless, that Mother's Day my darling husband got me the Canadian Encyclopedia of Gardening, along with a few basic garden tools, some seeds, and a plant (that died). Despite my bad luck or just plain naivety, my enthusiasm for gardening endured. I've spent hours poring over that book (and would also HIGHLY recommend it to Canadian gardeners), learning how to prune, what grows where, what needs what, how much care and patience a garden requires, as well as becoming totally inspired by garden designs. We now live in a house with a fertile, level, and sunny yard, a composter, a sunroom and a double garage for puttering. The sad, sad catch? We're still only renting. I spend so much time imagining what I'd do to this yard if I could. While on the one hand it's a bummer that I can't do anything, it's also good to learn from it just by watching which spots gain and lose sun over the seasons. If it had been my yard I likely would have dove into it without having the patience to watch it first.
So this year we're immersing ourselves in container gardening (although I dug up some very small, barely noticeable patches in the yard too). We may not even be here for a whole season, but after reading and daydreaming so much, I just had to grow stuff. Especially when spring comes and the air smells so heavily of rich fertility. There was no way I could just not plant.
Currently, we're anticipating a move to a more permanent home within the next six months to a year. Right now we're in Calgary, but we may soon be in Edmonton (same 3a zone! Plus an earlier last frost!). I am so so SO excited at the prospect of having our own yard that I can manipulate and manicure. Most of my time is now spent researching hardy 3a zone fruit trees, as well as producing hedges, vines, and shrubs. As much as I love veggies, I also long for home-grown fruit (as a kid my family lived in Surrey BC, and the 2.5 acre property had the most gorgeous pear, apple, and plum trees, as well as blackberries, hazelnuts and chestnuts. So amazing!). As far as non-edible planting, I'm currently fascinated by roses, and all the varieties that can grow here. I'm imagining a lush, productive yard with a lean-to greenhouse, a small sitting/entertaining area, with roses and other fragrant flowers beautifying the edges. Essentially, I want my yard to look like BC, except using 3a zone plants. I'm sure it can be done, and I want to do it so bad!
This blog will document how our first container gardens go – the successes as well as the mistakes and failures. Over time I hope it will evolve to a more sophisticated garden journal, hopefully transforming a plain-jane yard to something absolutely stunning. We'll see! Naturally it'll take a while, but for now I'm a newbie, and it's really fun.
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