This spring when I set off to beautiful British Columbia I had packed in my suitcase a seed stock of every kind of veggie you can think of. Lettuce, spinach, broccoli, tomatoes, beans, cabbage, corn, pumpkin, watermelon, the list goes on. I’ve never had my own garden but had established this collection over the last few years, harvesting them from my parents gardens, working with an organic seed distributor, and some bought in stores. I got them started early in little trays on the deck of my cabin.


When I moved from my cabin at the end of May, things were starting to burst out of their pots and I was grateful for a little garden space at my next place. But I knew that for all the things I had started, there wasn’t enough room, so I put them in larger containers in case I had to give some away.


Things were growing wonderfully but I learned quickly that not all things can be grown in containers. Tomatoes, lettuce and peas do great, but things like cabbage and pumpkin, not so much.


As more things began bursting out of their pots, I was lucky to find some empty garden space around the corner and started transplanting things into the ground. That was six weeks ago. I still don’t have a pumpkin for the 25 I had sprouted because the trauma of transplanting stunted their growth.


What I learned this summer is that if I had to grow a garden to feed myself and Aurora, we would starve. The good news is, I still have lots of seeds for next year. Now to find a permanent garden, because being a gypsy and a gardener just doesn’t work.