How to Train Your Garden (more challenging than a Dragon)

Each spring, I learn a bit more about what and where to plant and what and where not to. This year was no different, a continuation of lessons.

This April, before he left for Europe, Daniel built a PVC trellis in one of the raised beds to train cucumbers and tomatoes to grow vertically instead of spreading all over the ground. This way, Mugsy won’t be able to pee on them, and clumsy me won’t slip on mushy vegetables. As usual, timing was not on our side.

The day before I left to meet Daniel in Europe, the lemon cucumbers were only about three or four inches tall and growing slowly, and the green cucumbers hadn’t even sprouted yet. The tiny cherry tomato plants I planted were labeled “for containers,” so I assumed they would stay small and manageable.

When I returned, everything had grown with gusto. Since we weren’t there to train the plants, the plants had spread over the side of the planter before hitting the ground running.

I managed to maneuver some of the tomato plants onto the trellis, but most were just all over. However, the cucumbers had impressively climbed several corn stalks and one gigantic sunflower in the raised bed. Not on the trellis, but at least they were vertical. Lesson learned: training cucumbers and tomatoes is a fool’s errand if you are not going to be there to maneuver and manage them every day.

The larger tomato plants started out well by growing within their cages. Before the trip, I had carefully placed all their branches in cages that were grounded and strong. Over the two weeks away, it was ‘tomatoes gone wild’ in the garden. I have tomato branches in what appears to be at least a four-foot span and still growing, all while laden with tomatoes and covering any plants in their path. I tried staking them so (high hopes) they don’t bring down the cages, themselves, and the surrounding plants. Keeping them well above Mugsy’s snacking height has also been a challenge. Adding to the chaos are the varieties from last year volunteering their way back into the garden. They are thriving and selfishly growing wherever they choose.

I tried to train the mint to stay out of the raised beds and learned it’s more uncontrollable than tomatoes and cucumbers combined. Like a stubborn teenager, it doesn’t care what I want. I gave up, and the mint wins (for now). I have flown the white flag, surrendering control over the parsley, arugula, Swiss chard, and oregano.

I have been brewing a plan of attack as I look forward to fall. First, I will dig up all the uncontrollable oregano and most of the mint and replace both with edible and trainable plants (again, high hopes).

I have spaghetti squash and butternut squash that I’m considering entering a squash heavyweight championship contest. On average, I think each squash is well over fifteen pounds. Like all squash, I accept it as untrainable, so it wanders all over the garden. I tried to contain it, to no avail. Again, the plants won, and I ended up with an itchy rash.

This year, I learned to just give in to the fact that I will never train the garden; it will continue to teach me. I remain hopeful it all ends with excellent results.