I was delighted yesterday to see that our tarragon survived the (admittedly mild) winter, has decided to take matters into its own hands, and has beaten most of the other plants off the starting line. Of all the herbs we planted last year, it was the one I fully expected to have to replace. Not only did it survive but has spread out in its small container. I hope the tarragon isn’t TOO comfortable… After reading yet another article about herbs with the same soil & condition needs growing well in the same container, it’s going to be moved into one of our large planters along with some thyme, oregano, chives, parsley and summer savory. This year, we’re attempting to maximize the yield in our limited space, so most of our herbs are going to have to be good neighbors…
Occasionally, I look at our balc-o-farm and wonder how on earth this happened.
Growing up, my parents had a small garden patch in the back yard. I don’t remember everything they grew – I remember raspberries (because they’re my favorite) and carrots (because I pulled one up hoping it was ready. It wasn’t even as big around as my pinky, and I tried desperately to push it back into the ground).
My husband’s childhood memories of yard & garden had mostly to do with chores so his impression of gardening wasn’t all that favorable, either.
The first home we bought was a condo. Inexpensive and zero yard-work. It sounded great. It wasn’t.
Almost ten years later & still convinced that a yard wasn’t for us, we bought the row house we’re in now. Of particular excitement was the 2nd story deck. We carefully purchased a couple small cypress trees, a bay tree, a climbing rose to weave its way up a freestanding metal trellis, assorted succulents, and a small Spanish olive tree. We tucked small planters of herbs here and there. Two umbrellas, some furniture, and a grill later, and we thought we were in heaven, especially considering we had no idea what we were doing. The look was kind of a Zen-Tuscan fusion, and we loved it. We expected to spend most evenings out there enjoying the ambiance, as did our neighbors to either side. Don’t get me wrong, we have great neighbors. They just entertain a lot, which affected the quiet haven we’d created on our deck. We gave up trying to converse over the din; the deck was still pretty to look at through the window, though…
Growing edibles (beyond herbs) sneaked up on us. In the end, though, it doesn’t really matter why we started growing as much of our own produce as we can; only that we love doing it and enjoy the fruits of those efforts.
little farm on the balcony 