You see, my dearest and most beloved readers, the truth is that most gardens stand atop the bodies of the piled dead.
If killing even one plant stresses you, this is a terrible hobby that will upset you greatly.
Every single garden is different. No plant will grow in every single one.
No, not even mint.
People determined to sell you something will ALWAYS say it is easy and unkillable. They know you’ll blame yourself if it dies, so what do they care?
(Most cactus are very hard to grow outside of Very Specific Conditions. You didn’t fail, you were lied to. But that’s another rant for another day.)
Lots of plants die outright. Others die eventually because they just plain don’t live that long. Others do well at first, then gradually peter out over time. This is normal. This happens to all of us.
And it’s probably not that you didn’t do enough research. The categories are just too broad! The three soil types are Sand, Loam, and Clay. But dry clay is a very different beast than wet clay. Afternoon sun and morning sun are different lights.
Zone 7B is found in central NC, north Texas, mountains in Arizona, western Nevada and eastern Washington. The soil types, rainfall, and weather could not vary more dramatically.
Lots of spectacular plants from those other areas would melt in my humidity. Plants that I love from my area would be on life support in AZ.
The only way to know if a plant grows in your garden is to plant it there and see what happens.
Probably half will die, for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with you as a person.
Hell, even plants that grow in gardens nearby may not grow in yours. There are spectacular liatris in the garden at the co-op five miles away. I have never had one survive a season in my garden.
My personal rule of thumb is to try and grow a plant three times. If it dies each time, eh, time for me to move on.
Some plants are nearly bulletproof in my garden. Hostas and oakleaf hydrangeas do great if the dogs don’t dig them up.
Some plants died twice and the third one took hold like a weed. Some thrive in pots but croak in the ground. Some died instantly in a pot and the same species did great in a different pot three feet away.
You really don’t know until you try.
Basically just find what likes to grow for you, and plant more of that. If a plant dies, welp, you have paid X dollars to learn that plant didn’t want to grow there. That’s usually how it goes.
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Long, long ago, when we were in negotiations for the...fourth Dragonbreath book? Maybe?...things were not going so well. For reasons that likely had nothing to do with us, things had stalled, and the person who made decisions was not answering my agent’s calls.
The books were selling well, but the price point for printing had gone up kinda sharply owing to the big paper shortage around then, and the Big Cheese had only authorized an offer that paid LESS than the first three.
My beloved @ksonney and Becky, who left the pen to avoid the attentions of the young rooster Spare (only to promptly be sexed up by Ninja.) Among chickens, the big fluffy girls are absolutely the hottest, and Becky gets tired of the attention.
Spare isn’t a bad rooster as these things go—he’s pushy, but not violent, which means he’ll probably grow into a more polite adult, like Ninja. (We eat any roosters who get violent with the ladies.)
Still, it’s gotta be exhausting to have a dude cutting a wing at you Every Damn Time you step out of the coop. He’s gonna go off to Dogskull soon, though.
Arrrgghh. Looks like the pine siskin salmonella outbreak is hitting the East Coast too now. I found a dead one the other day and have been watching like a hawk, and sure enough, had a sick one sitting on the feeder. (By the time the bird is obviously sick, they're nearly dead.)
Picked him up--that's how sick he was--and he just barely managed to flutter away to where the dogs won't get him later. Poor bastard. Took in the feeders, gotta wait for spring migration to put them back.
Pine siskins, for whatever reason, are more susceptible to salmonella than most wild birds. It usually isn't a big deal, but when you get large numbers of them, in an irruption year like the current one, they congregate at feeders and infect everybody else.
This is 100% true and, as someone with a respect for firearms bordering on neurosis, still fills me with an emotion I can neither name nor adequately describe.
Like, my dad, god love him, instilled that in me first thing. “I have just checked to see if the gun is loaded. You watched me. I hand you the gun. What is the first thing you do?”
“Check to see if it’s loaded.”
“Correct. No one will ever yell at you for checking.”
(He later amended this to “if someone does, that is NOT a person you want to be around.”)
Wow, in the "rippling consequences" department, manufacturing has already been stretched thin because of COVID, and now the freeze in Texas shut down the resin production that makes plastic, which means my feed store is like "You order your greenhouse plastic NOW, people!"
Apparently there are now products they can't stock because there are no plastic bottles for the manufacturer to put the product in.
This is honestly fascinating, in a "fragility-of-civilization" kinda way.
(No, the solution here is not necessarily to use glass bottles--we're talking about chemicals, some of which are nasty before being diluted, some of which you really, really don't want to break all over the floor, like bug spray.)