Missing my Garden

I am on vacation and I miss my garden terribly. I am sitting with my phone in my hand, zooming in at a few pictures of my garden my husband sent me today. You see, I am on vacation - I left three weeks ago, and I won’t be back for quite a while.

As usual, before leaving, I had to prep the garden for weeks without a gardener. I managed to weed and edge borders, plant out some impulse-bought flowers and perennials, move a poorly placed boxwood, and do it all well in advance - all except the vegetable garden. For a long time, it was too cold, and then it rained and in the end, most of the vegetable garden had to be done on one Monday, just one day before leaving. I couldn’t wait any longer. It was a heartbreaking endeavour to plant out tomatoes and peppers when nights were still below 10C, and days not much warmer. I covered peppers with a double layer of fleece praying for rain and good luck.

Tomato plants that needed to be staked and couldn’t be covered looked at me - I promise, they did - in disbelief. I worried cold winds would shred them to pieces. I left basilic to a life of disappointment. In contrast, garlic and asparagus looked like overconfident kids who were just waiting for me to leave them alone.

I spent the next nine days visiting other people’s - other nations' - gardens basking in the sun. Like some reverse curse, everywhere I went, the weather improved on my arrival. Sun came out, winds died down, rain turned into a pleasant drizzle. On another continent, my garden endured the opposite: cold, wind and never ending rains, unusual for this time of year.

As I visited garden after garden with my husband, trying, reciprocally and unsuccessfully, to stop each other from “having ideas,” the thoughts of my tortured vegetable beds were my companions. Will my tomatoes survive? I know peppers were protected, but the guilt over my homegrown tomato plants was almost too much.

Now, as I continue my trip and visit my family, my husband is back home and must face the inevitable challenge. He started by photographing it, and sending me the pictures. I am squinting at a rather sorry bunch of plants. Are the dark leaves 'Brad’s Atomic'? Or are my tomato plants that dark from cold? One surprise is that weeds are rather small, which means that even they didn’t grow much. Peppers look fine - after all, double fleece was as generous protection as I could give them, but some beans must have succumbed to cold and wet weather. Or maybe that cheeky cottontail that ate my pear trees in winter? I would prefer that option.

Now, I am staying at my mom’s (yes, we always garden together) and one of my aunts will come to visit us soon, and she will also miss her garden. She will show me photos of hers, I will show her mine. We compare it to tattoo humble-brags. Her daughter will send her pictures of her irises, and my husband will send me mine, and we will compare, and miss our gardens together.