How to Propagate Roses From Cuttings (Without Killing Them)
My grandmother had one rose bush by her kitchen door. Deep red, gone leggy at the base, with a fragrance that hit you before you reached the step.
My grandmother had one rose bush by her kitchen door. Deep red, gone leggy at the base, with a fragrance that hit you before you reached the step.
I lost half a Roma harvest my second year of gardening because I “pruned” it the same way I pruned my Cherokee Purples.
My first vertical squash attempt was a beautiful failure. Perfect trellis, wrong plant. I’d bought a bush variety by accident and spent three months watching it not climb the frame I’d built for it.
I planted my first hydrangea our first summer here. Three years later, it hadn’t given me a single flower.
I built two compost bins wrong before this one. The first had no lid, so a wet January turned it into a swamp. The second had a sealed front that made turning the pile physically impossible.
The first time I tried to grow zucchini vertically, I picked the wrong variety, used a tomato cage that buckled by July, and never figured out why most of my flowers dropped without setting fruit.
I had three avocado pits balanced on toothpicks above three jam jars on my kitchen windowsill. All three rotted.
I sowed a whole packet of carrot seeds into a wide terracotta pot one March, watered it, set it on the patio, and waited.
The first time I tried to grow sunflowers, I started them on the kitchen windowsill in March. By the third week they were two feet tall, leaning sideways like drunk teenagers, and the moment I planted them outside they basically…
My first basil plant grew into a sad little tree. Two feet tall, four leaves at the top, a stalk like a chopstick, and a row of flower buds opening before the Fourth of July.