The invaluable garden journal
By Amy McDowell
My garden adventures—all of them—are
documented. Even the time I accidentally
splattered myself with the slimy guts of two dozen plump four-inch tomato
hornworms. Eew. Yes, it was gross.
Gardening is messy, but I learn things all the time.
I record everything in my garden journal. I
now have about fifteen years’ worth of helpful and humorous lessons documented.
I wrote about waiting three years for the first bloom on my fragrant bourbon
rose, finding a baby deer in the woods behind my home, and the thrill of seeing
a dog-tooth violet bloom for the first time. There are crazy and delightful
stories like the time masses of praying mantis hatched in my car when I left
two egg casings on the warm dashboard. I have a record of the time a ground
squirrel nearly drowned in the whisky barrel and the time a raccoon was trapped
under the heavy bowl of the large antique bird bath after he accidentally
tipped it over on himself. I documented every deer sighting, hawk sighting, and
screech owl.
My journals include recipes for homemade
hummingbird nectar, deer repellent, insect spray, and even rooting hormone. I
sketch and chronicle ideas I have tried, such as the homemade scent dispensers
for fox urine to repel rabbits, and I jot down ideas that I have seen in other
gardens, such as using cardboard boxes for rose cones.
The practical side of a garden journal is to
record the botanical and common names of new plants I put in. I sketch where I
planted them, and sometimes even document where I bought them and how much I
paid. Sometimes they grow beautifully, and other times they die off. It is
helpful to read through old garden journals and remember the successes and
failures.
My journals are an invaluable archive of my
joys and blunders in the garden. My lesson about hornworms is that when you go
about ferociously plucking them from a datura and stomping them to goo with
your right foot, the guts will spurt far and wide—all over your left leg. Later
you will look down and wonder, “What is this green crusty stuff all over my
pants? – Oh, sick!”
