You are allowed to kill your plants. Maybe not on purpose. Perhaps out of love through overwatering, or overfertilising. Or through negligence because something else needed to take priority. 

But killing your plants does not make you a shit gardener.

In fact, all the best gardeners kill their plants. If you've killed a plant, then congratulations, you've taken the first step to becoming a great gardener.

The difference between a great gardener and one who never harvests their own broccoli is that successful gardeners are curious about their failures, and they try again. 

Something inside them is driven to figure out what went wrong, and to try getting it right. Over time, they gain experience and insight that eventually turns them into someone who can grow things.

When Richard and I moved into a rental on someone else’s farm—where I could finally have my own garden and live my dream—I intentionally gave myself permission to fail at this.

I was allowed to forget to water my plants. Or to buy more seedlings than I had room for, eventually finding them dead or pathetically shooting to seed.

If slugs ate my plants, that was cool. 

When the green vegetable bug army turned up, quickly followed by the armyworm reserves, it was a chance to learn how to deal with pests.

And when I planted leeks in autumn and never got a harvestable leek before they all went to seed? I simply turned to my collection of books to figure out where I went wrong. 

Once, I planted potatoes in what turned out to be a puddle. They melted into a stinking mush. I responded by raising that bed out of the puddle, and I never stopped growing potatoes. 

And it did not stop me planting more than 1000 garlic cloves in an entirely different puddle on an entirely different property a few years later.

Which did genuinely sting. There’s nothing like harvesting, processing, and figuring out what to do with 1000 tiny, sickened garlic plants to kill one’s enthusiasm. 

First, I scaled back. Then, as I watched the next attempt at a large crop wither with yet another rust infection (just not in a puddle this time), I swore off growing garlic.

But then the garlic decided to grow anyway. This winter I planted two beds of garlic, so it didn't keep me down for too long.

And as we enter a new growing season in Aotearoa New Zealand, I just want to say you are allowed to suck at this.

You are allowed to kill your plants out of love. And you can kill your plants out of negligence. You can let your garden get overrun with weeds because you don’t have the time or energy.

It doesn’t mean you suck at gardening. It just means there’s something new to learn.

Most vegetables growing in the average back yard only live about five or six months even when you get everything perfect. Your own self-worth and skill has absolutely nothing to do with their survival. They were going to die anyway. 

Imperfect plants are (usually) still edible. My tiny garlics sold out in less than an hour when I put them up for sale.

Dead plants are not a disaster. They're simply an opportunity to learn and try again next year. Or not.

I don't hold all the answers. But only a few weeks ago I looked at a problem on one of my fruit trees and thought "goodie, I get to learn something new." 

I'm simply a person who fails a lot, before dusting myself off and trying again. You can do that too, if you want.