The moral of this story? It doesn’t matter. Because by next spring, we’ll all have forgotten it.
This explains, pretty perfectly, the blend of ignorance and optimism that informs many of my own gardening decisions.
My own strawberry planter, which was planted with similar high hopes back in the spring, is not faring particularly well. It has been very hot and dry here this summer*, and many of the plants in here actually burned to a crisp when I didn’t water them for a hot day or two. I’m not exaggerating for comic effect or anything. I literally did not water them for a couple of days and their leaves turned into crispy little brown kale chips of failure. So my overall strawberry plant population has been reduced probably by a third, and there are no berries left on my plants, because there were only like 3 and we ate them already.
Here’s what we are eating from the garden: very spicy greens! Almost all the greens have bolted, but there’s nothing else to eat, so we keep picking them.
*Actually, I described Edmonton last week as a “nightmarish hellscape,” and I stand by that. It has been too hot to go outside, really, let along perform gardening tasks. It felt like the end times. When the heat broke with a rain storm on Sunday night I almost started to cry with relief.