I love to grow my own vegetables. Well. Hm. Honestly? I like the idea of growing my own vegetables. The reality is less inspiring.

I’ve had several attempts at veggie plots. It’s fun. For a while. Before the drought. Or the cabbage moths. Or the birds.

I love putting in all the new seedlings and watching them start to grow.

A garden of hopeful aspiration.

It gets pretty exciting when the flowers – that you just know are going to turn into something very edible eventually – start appearing.

Then, for some reason, it always goes wrong.

If I have a green thumb, it’s khaki.

Bugs.

Caterpillar hunting.

Diseases.

Something went wrong.

Lack of water/nutrients/mulching/some unknown factor that I’m supposed to know about but don’t.

I’m pretty sure carrots are not supposed to look like that.

Sigh.

I did at least get some produce this year. Some of my plants were actually thriving before nature interceded.

A few are still hanging in there.

Would anyone like a celery stick?