Hi, it’s me, Nichole. The woman with compost in her hair, mud on her boots, and a Pinterest board called “Cottagecore Vegetable Vibes” that I absolutely will not apologize for.
Welcome to this year’s garden breakdown — or as I like to call it, my annual “Let’s pretend I’m not just winging it again” strategy session. Spoiler: I absolutely am. But there is a plan. Sort of. Let’s just say this post is equal parts inspiration, chaos, and a gentle nudge to get your hands in the dirt and manifest those tomato dreams.
So grab your coffee. Let’s talk soil, goals, and the 14 times I said “I’m going to keep this simple this year” and immediately didn’t.
What’s the Vibe This Year?
Every homestead garden has a vibe. Last year mine was “survival garden but make it Instagram,” and it got a little… out of hand. This year? We’re going for “Abundance meets sanity”. I’m aiming for less overwhelm, more joy. Less pest-induced sobbing, more actual harvests. Revolutionary, I know.
I want veggies we’ll actually eat, herbs that won’t bolt before I remember to dry them, and flowers because sometimes I just need something pretty after pulling pigweed for the 400th time.
My Garden Goals (Also Known as My Annual Self-Delusion List)
- Grow enough tomatoes to can sauce without having to “supplement” from the farmer’s market.
- Last year I had 22 tomato plants and somehow still not enough. This year? 30. Don’t judge me. I need them.
- Actually succession plant this time.
- AKA don’t panic sow everything in April and then cry in August when there’s no lettuce. I’ve got reminders in my phone now. We’ll see.
- Focus on high-yield crops.
- Zucchini, cucumbers, green beans. These are the MVPs. If I can’t grow it in bulk or preserve it, I’m not giving it prime space. Sorry, eggplant. We tried.
- Cut flower bed, because I’m a sucker.
- Sunflowers, zinnias, cosmos. I told myself I wouldn’t, but here we are. Again.
- Soil health like I actually know what I’m doing.
- We’re composting like pros, rotating beds, and pretending I totally understand pH levels. It’s called growth. Both figurative and literal.
What I’m Planting
This is the part where it gets unhinged because I definitely said I was going to “scale back” this year and then bought seeds like I was preparing for the apocalypse (which… maybe?).
- Tomatoes: San Marzano, Cherokee Purple, Sungold, and the rogue variety I saved from last year that may or may not be a mutant hybrid.
- Peppers: Bell, jalapeño, banana, and a mystery pepper that came free in a seed swap. What could go wrong?
- Cucumbers: For pickling and snacking. We don’t skimp here.
- Lettuce: Because I enjoy pain and fleeting greens.
- Kale & Swiss Chard: Because apparently I’m that person now.
- Squash & Zucchini: Prepare to be overwhelmed in July.
- Herbs: Basil, cilantro (that’ll bolt in five minutes), thyme, and mint in a pot because we learned that lesson the hard way.
- Flowers: For the bees. And my mental health.
New This Year: Raised Beds & TikTok Hacks
Okay so full confession — I fell into the Raised Bed Rabbit Hole. Again. I built two more beds this year, because apparently I enjoy hauling lumber and dirt for fun. We’re doing a combo of in-ground and raised, mostly because I need somewhere to put the overflow when my seedling ambitions outgrow the space I actually have.
Also, if I see one more “viral gardening tip” I will try it. Coffee grounds in the soil? Already there. Banana peel tea? Brewing. Tucking in my plants at night with motivational affirmations? Considering it.
Plans That Will Definitely Derail by Mid-July
Let’s be honest. Around here, garden plans are like New Year’s resolutions: cute in theory. Between the goats breaking into the cabbage patch, the chickens digging dust baths in the beets, and the weather deciding it hates me, things happen. The list of “what I planned” and “what actually happened” usually becomes comedy by July.
But that’s the beauty of this life. It’s messy, seasonal, and deeply humbling. I’ll have losses. I’ll have wins. I’ll probably cry over squash bugs again.
What Keeps Me Going
There’s something about pulling a basket of food from your own backyard that hits different. It’s grounding. It’s empowering. It’s a little magical.
I garden because I want to feed my family good food. I garden because it connects me to my great-grandmother who once told me, “You don’t need much, just dirt, seeds, and stubbornness.” She was right.
And honestly, I garden because it reminds me that life keeps going. That even after the darkest, coldest winter, something green will push through.
One Last Thing…
If you’re planning your own garden and it feels overwhelming — take a breath. Start small. Grow what you like to eat. Celebrate the wins, learn from the flops. Laugh a lot.
And if you happen to impulse-buy six varieties of heirloom pole beans at 1 AM while scrolling seed catalogues like they’re fashion look books? Same, girl. Same.
See you in the dirt. 💚
