The Times - Serving Waitsburg, Dayton and the Touchet Valley

Gardening is inherently humbling. Perhaps this is because a gardener is an architect and a janitor, literally in the dirt with earwigs and ants crawling alongside as one attempts to render a masterpiece.

Anytime I invite someone into my garden, I lead with a disclaimer. "Mistakes have been made," I say, "good plants have died here."

Most recently, we said goodbye to a tomato plant. It's fallen over three times now. The fruits that have come off it tend to have rotten spots and represent an excess that is more demanding than helpful at this time. Out and off it goes. If you're keeping track, we're down to one cherry tomato plant, one patio tomato, and one beefsteak, which is more than enough for someone who "doesn't like tomatoes."

One goes out, two come in. Now that word is out about my agricultural adventures and proclivity for plants, unexpected vegetation of all kinds have made their way into my care. Next year, I'll know to leave some room in the garden for the ones I never planned to plant.

Embrace seed saving. Don't buy the same seeds over and over again if you don't have to. For sunflowers, use a sachet to protect and capture seeds. The sheer quality of the material allows in light and nutrients without the pesky birds getting their beaks in there. The drawstring makes for easy installation and collection.

Here's a bit of advice I intend to take myself. Why? Well, because someone (I) had no idea that I was watching perfectly lovely sweet corn come and go without ever tasting it. It didn't look ready at all until it was too late. It was only because one of the stalks started to droop and look a little malnourished that I took a chance at trying it at all. Shucks. Turns out it was a starchy mess. At least there'll be plenty of corn seed kernels for next year's crop.

At my house, seed packets live in an odd-shaped box sitting upright like recipe cards. They are stored in the same order as they are planted in the garden rows, so details about any plant can be found quickly. (And so I could listlessly flip through them, admiring their pictures as I waited for their counterparts in the ground to grow.) All the seeds I'm collecting from my garden, however, are scattered to the wind. Ziplock baggies strewn about with permanent marker scrawlings.

A better idea is to store seeds in a tackle box, or bead storage box with many compartments. It might be a good idea to create a catalog to accompany the box so that other relevant information such as planting depth, or ideal soil conditions, can be wrangled into one place.

No glove, no love. I've all but given up on gardening gloves. I tried heavy duty rose gardening gloves that went up to the elbow; they got holes in the finger seams within two uses. I tried those cute ones with little leaves printed on them, also to no avail.

It's as though mulch is designed to breach regular gardening gloves and dispense microscopic splinters. Oh no. Catch me outside with construction gloves-something with rhino lining that closes up tight around the wrist. If you're in the hardware store wondering where all the size smalls went, I bought them all. Trust me, they've been put to good use!

Watermelon grow challenge update:

We started with seven large fruits, but it seems only one fruit per vine is surviving.

Of our two Ali Baba watermelon plants, the unrestricted one has grown several, while the barstool trellis experiment plant has only one fruit nestled between the legs of the stool.

I downloaded an infographic watermelon ripeness guide, but it doesn't help with the specific melons I'm growing. Instead, I used the "sproingy thump" method and picked one to try. It was sweet and juicy. They have a lot of seeds in there. Maybe next year I'll try a seedless variety.

Pumpkin grow challenge update:

After months and weeks, I finally have something to show. Three little pumpkin sprouts have been transplanted to the furthest rows in the garden, affectionately known as "the back forty."

Instagram/Facebook community:

I started @green_thumb_black as a place to dump all the photos and lessons learned in the dirt without overcrowding my everyday feed, but it's turned into one of my favorite things. Virtually connecting and learning from other cultivators is a true delight.

People say I have a green thumb, but it's still magic to me. And I've had just as much head-scratching confusion and plant deaths as successes. There are so many factors to consider: soil amendments, nutrients, sunlight, water, watering techniques, etc. It really helps to have a community of growers to reach out to in the (very likely) event that something goes awry.

We've grown, not just flowers and vegetables, but also friends and fellowship! Special thanks to Susan Tarver, who recently shared her garden progress. She's got pumpkins climbing neighboring plants' trellises, proving that mine aren't the only unwieldy ones.

Thanks to Noelle Croteau at Dusty Britches Farm for sharing her bounty and expertise. Speaking of expertise, it was only thanks to Bill Rodgers' corn skills that I realized after posting my corn experience that it wasn't so much premature as it was past its prime. There's always more to learn!