I wish I had a stunning, perfectly imperfect garden. A lush, colorful sanctuary that provided aesthetic beauty as well as delicious edibles. Water, texture, food, a few weeds, it's all good in my mental image. Alas, I'm a long way off from my wish. But, I've been planting many seeds that are building toward this dream.

Seven years ago we bought our first house. The yard was meager (a small urban patch of desperation) and was overrun with weeds and dog poop. My first attempt to grow anything was met with a roll of the eyes from my husband. We had a nearly condemned house to rehabilitate, so the yard was the least of our concerns. Still, I planted two ground phlox and a patch of echinacea and chives, generously donated from my mom's garden. I also planted a tiny lilac bush, in a nostalgic attempt to relive the intoxicating scent I grew up smelling every spring - thanks to mammoth shrubs outside my childhood bedroom window.

Seven years later, my husband has been infected with my gardener's yen. He's my go-to guy for de-sodding, manual tilling, and digging big holes - chores I'm happy to hand off. He's also the master indoor gardener, both with houseplants and our seedlings (the yin-yang is perfect, his green thumb works indoors and mine works outdoors). And, he's the vine king. His wish is for a deck enshrouded in exotic foliage and flowers. Several years ago he built trellises and a pergola around our deck (in a vain attempt to block out our neighbors that are in spitting distance from our evening landing pad) and every year since he coaxes vines up the architecture - daily, delicately guiding new growth higher. Tying each arm outward and upward. Still, he scoffs at my experiments. I keep telling him that experimenting, by growing new species, expanding beds, and moving things around, is all a part of the process. It's a learning experience and the process is, well, fun.

So, here's a very, very abridged photo diary of what we're starting with this year. (I had many pictures on my old 35mm that I just didn't get developed onto a disc, so you are left with these images from my digital camera.) These are the beginnings of a wish that will be a long time in the making.

These are our seedlings, delicately developing in our basement. The round seed pots toward the left are old toilet paper tubes - a new experiment this year in reusing and saving money.


This is one section of what will be our veggie bed. We’ve planted our cool weather friends - beets, onions, carrots…The orange yarn marking our seed lines is a bit unconventional, but I’m always looking for supplies we have on hand instead of buying something new. The bright green spots are not emerging seedlings, but our neighbor’s tree attempting to reproduce. Those seed pods signal the worst of our weeding. Little trees trying to grow absolutely everywhere in our yard. (It's so much worse than when I took this picture. Now, it's a virtual carpet. It's ridiculous how much this tree dumps onto our gardens.)


Among other things, we also have a cherry tree we received as a gift when my second daughter was born (6 years ago). The cherries are extremely sour, but with enough sugar and ginger they make the most delectable dessert – Cherry Ginger Crunch. Our tree only gives us enough for one dessert each year (although the squirrels and birds have denied us that pleasure a couple of times). I moan when we walk past neighbor’s trees that only exist for ornamental purposes. Their beautiful booty lying squished and rotting on the sidewalks. They don’t know what they’re missing.

And, we have a pond garden. I love the look and sound of water, so we’ve made a somewhat vulgar pond and fountain set-up. Some years I put water lilies and other plants in. I haven’t decided yet if I will this year. Just two days ago we received an urgent phone call from our neighbor who spotted ducks happily swimming in our tiny oasis. Unfortunately, by the time we got home, they were gone. How I wish I would have seen them. The mental image warms my heart.

Anyway, I could go on with stories for quite some time, but I should save something for my forthcoming blogs. The real purpose here was just to introduce you to me and to my gardens and to my philosophy of gardening – you wish in one hand and plant a seed with the other. Gardening is about dreaming, but it’s also really about gardening.

Whether you have a few terra cotta pots or you have a few acres, all you have to do is plant something and see what happens. Maybe nothing germinates. So you sew some more seeds. Maybe you accidentally propagate a weed (my husband and I did this one year thinking it was a flower). So you yank it back out. Gardening is a never-ending experiment with seeds, soil, water, light, and love.

There is no end point. You don’t just have a garden (noun), you garden (verb). You’ll no doubt have a dream garden in your mind, but when it really gets into your blood – the process itself becomes the dream and you eagerly await the next day that you can plant and dig and transplant and harvest and get dirty and get disgruntled and just really get connected with life.

Find more from Janelle at Healthy Child Healthy World, MomsRising, and Twitter (@greenandhealthy).