by Tarra Davis

Created on: June 01, 2008   Last Updated: June 10, 2008

You can call me an accidental gardener. I never enjoyed getting dirty, and was not much of a tomboy. I definitely hated worms. Over the years, I have come to love the outdoors and helping to beautify the world one yard at a time.

I can still smell the soft scent of the mint as she picked the green stalks to make the perfect mint jelly. My great-grandmother on my father's side loved to grow vegetables as she was raised on a farm, after her doctor told her that due to her health condition she needed to scale back on the farm work. Her husband and her moved to a small town with a big backyard and her doctor said she could have a small garden by her porch. While visiting once as she told us this story she opened her back door and all you could see were rows upon rows of a variety of vegetables starting at the porch.

My mother who by now had adjusted from city dwelling to country dwelling was absorbing all the different types of gardens and gardeners. I believed she took every little tip and advice in like a sponge. My first garden began when I was sixteen years old when my mother put me in charge of the tomato garden. My brother dug the square foot garden and placed the cement blocks around the edges. And then it was my job to weed through the Earth and pluck out the green grass and weeds before planting the starters.

The day we went to a local farm for the tomato starters was also the first day I drove after receiving my learner's permit. After we picked out our favorite tomatoes, Beefsteak and Mountain pride, my brother tossed the keys at me and I began to panic. Even though the farm was less than five miles from our house I was a nervous wreck.

Pulling up to the intersection of our road I slammed on the brakes and I could hear my mother becoming very nervous in the back seat because the starters shifted around in the hatchback. Looking in the rearview mirror I noticed her peeking over the backseat to inspect the damage. It was not until we parked in our driveway I found out that a few were damaged. And this was a big deal because on my first driving experience I had already compromised my first official garden.

I sat in the car for a minute while my brother hopped out and my mother tried her best to offer advice. By now my brother had the tray of starters sitting next to the garden.

"It's all right. Just go get the digger and plant them into the ground."

With shaky hands I plunged the spade into the ground and hoped to keep my mind off the fact that I had failed

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