Bloom & Be

Category: Garden

  • Gardening on Hard Mode, Part 2: The Reality & Frustrations

    So, my spring garden…yeah. It mostly pissed me off. Why? Because I’m a new gardener and trying to grow in the desert is basically gardening on hard mode. Critters. Oven-hot summers. Windy all the time. Freeze snaps. Did I mention the critters? Rabbits, squirrels, birds…all plotting against my dreams of a beautiful garden and fresh produce.

    Still, I wanted to try. And try I did.

    The Critters Are Winning

    Bed 1 was mostly wrecked by a little furry friend. Radishes, beets, herbs? Gone. Tomatoes survived, but hornworms treated them like an all-you-can-eat buffet. Some basil thrived, which was a tiny win, but most of the other plants were casualties. Asylum thrived here, too. It was beautiful and the bees loved it.

    Bed 2’s cucumbers struggled because I tried growing them indoors first without acclimating them (rookie mistake). Later, my tween helped water them on a hot day…half-heartedly. They died. Slowly, some green growth is returning, but honestly? I gave up the garden about a week ago. I’m over it.

    Bed 3? Cold-weather crops in the desert heat. Lesson learned. Carrots? Grew, but didn’t taste good. I didn’t thin them, so they grew wonky. Most got tossed to the critters. Lettuce? Also devoured. I got one small harvest and didn’t even enjoy it. Sat out on the counter and got wilted.

    Bed 4 had peppers that never saw the light of day, squash eaten by persistent aphids, and one lonely tomato plant that had a chance. But like the rest, everything is dead or dying now.

    Grow bags? Critters loved them. Everything I tried in them got eaten. These things need maximum protection.

    What I Tried (and What Worked…ish)

    • Critter spray worked for about a week. The smell was awful. I reapplied it a few times, but I hated the smell. So I didn’t want to reapply it constantly.
    • BT (Bacillus thuringiensis) worked on hornworms, but you have to reapply frequently which I didn’t. I will next season, because it really does work and it’s easy to do. I wasn’t feeling it this season.
    • Watering every morning is annoying. I need a sprinkler/drip system. I would like to spend the morning tending the garden, not just watering it.
    • Physical barriers: Wire around plants, a fence around the garden, a fence around the property. Anything is better than what we have. We’re not there yet. These things require time and money, what bullshit.

    Emotionally? Frustrated. Drained. Over it. Watching plants I was excited about get destroyed frustrated the hell out of me. I questioned my choices: should I be learning another skill instead? Sewing, maybe? But I’m stubborn. Momma didn’t raise no quitter. I have to prove myself to myself.

    The Weather Fights Back

    The weather out here is ridiculous. Wind knocks down everything. Heat fries tender leaves. Cold snaps leave plants hanging on to dear life. Every day feels like a battle.

    I tried some adaptations:

    • Shade cloth. I bought metal poles off Amazon. They were cheap and no match for the hard ass sand outside. Broken, immediately. Back to the drawing bord. So, we made a DIY version with scrap wood. The wind ripped holes in the shade and knocked a few wood beams loose, but it was better than nothing. It’ll get taken down during the fall/winter and we will (hopefully) put up something more permanent and wind resistant.
    • Big lesson: NEEEEEEEED SHADE!!! Row covers for insulation to extend the growing season. Mulch, just use mulch.

    Next season, I plan to build a fence for wind protection, install permanent shade cloth with poles in concrete, and maybe plant trees for shade. Trees are expensive. We will get there.

    Lessons Learned (So Far)

    • Start small. Don’t bite off four raised beds on your first season.
    • Label everything. Seriously. Don’t repeat my chaos.
    • Indoor starting vs. direct sowing: figure out what grows better in your climate. 
    • Acclimate your plants.
    • Accept that some crops will die and that’s okay.
    • Shade is a must. Stakes, supports, covers… all of it matters.

    Keeping track: I tried journaling, notes on my phone, screenshots: a mess. I’ll probably keep the messy system next season too, because…life. 

    The Emotional Rollercoaster

    Despite the frustration, there’s still joy. Seeing even one plant thrive feels like a tiny victory. Feeling the dirt in your hands, tasting something you grew yourself, learning new skills… those are wins.

    • Unexpected joy: Bees buzzing, green in the desert, pretty flowers, and spending time with my kids in the garden. My two-year-old squats by the plants to inspect them with me. My tween asks a million questions and says she wants to be a farmer now. Love that energy.
    • Motivation: Money invested, stubbornness, and the belief that I will have a lush, productive garden one day. At what cost? Who fucking knows. But giving up is not an option.

    The Takeaway

    Gardening in the desert is brutal, messy, unpredictable, and expensive. But it’s also a learning experience. I’ll be back next spring, a little wiser, with another plan, and a few more tricks up my sleeve.

    Let’s see what happens.

    —

  • Gardening on Hard Mode: My First Desert Garden

    I started a garden this spring because…I wanted to. Simple as that. It’s the first time I’ve had the time, space, and something of my own to dig into (pun intended). Honestly, it was sheer determination. I know gardening in the desert is basically “hard mode,” but I wanted to see if I could do it.

    I also had this bigger picture in mind, self-sufficiency. Food is expensive. A lot of crap gets added to what we eat and growing even a little of my own felt like one way to have some control. Plus, I’m in my 30s. If I’m lucky, I’ve got another 30+ years on this planet, might as well learn a useful skill. Gardening seemed like a good place to start.

    When I decided to plant this garden, my main goal was simple: fresh food for my family and moving a little closer to self-sufficiency. Honestly, I didn’t have a clear vision. No Pinterest boards, no perfect blueprint. I just wanted to see if I could make it happen.

    The Plan

    We (READ: my partner) built four raised garden beds, each 6 ft by 3 ft and 2 ft deep. Cardboard went on the bottom, then dirt and sticks with soil mix on top. He did the heavy lifting. I did the planning. Here’s the plan I excitedly scribbled out:

    • Bed 1: Tomatoes, basil, scallions, lettuce, herbs
    • Bed 2: Squash, cucumbers, radishes, herbs
    • Bed 3: Broccoli, cabbage, carrots, lettuce
    • Bed 4: Tomatoes, peppers, squash

    I also bought some grow bags for cucumbers, tomatoes, flowers, and lettuce on the side.

    Techniques I Tried:

    Like any beginner, I leaned hard on Google (and yes, a little AI). I learned about companion planting and square-foot gardening, which helped make the chaos feel slightly more manageable. I also experimented with indoor starts vs. direct sowing. Though I lost track of what was planted where. Note to self: label everything next time.

    The Early Wins

    Even though I was fumbling, some things actually worked:

    • My basil thrived. We love basil. Tomatoes and basil were a staple this summer.
    • A few beets came up. So sweet and delicious. Beautiful color.
    • Zucchini pushed through, even while fighting powdery mildew and aphids and squash bugs.

    I didn’t preserve my herbs the way I should have, and most of the other plants struggled, but still, there were a few wins.

    Planting and Timing

    Late freezes meant I didn’t plant until May. I was just happy to get something in the ground. In hindsight, I could’ve started some things sooner, but that’s all part of learning. This fall, I’m taking a break, regrouping, and hoping next spring I’ll be more intentional.

    The Goal

    My only goal? Try it. See what happens. Learn something. That’s it.

    I accomplished my goal. I tried. I failed. I succeeded. I learned a shit ton.

    And you bet your ass, I’m going to try again.

    Because I am stubborn.

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