I will never be able to survive based on my ability to grow food

Another year and another summer of disappointment out in the yard. At one time, I had quite an impressive yard. Neighbors would stop and comment. I could spend hours admiring my own handiwork. And then I had to leave my lovely yard in Memphis and move to a hill in Nashville. Where almost nothing grows and what little does is hastily devoured by the myriad creatures that inhabit my neighborhood. The raspberries? Stripped bare just before they were ready to harvest. The lavender? Dead (and I have no idea why). The tomatoes' growth has been stunted for weeks as have all but one of the gourds. One lone cucumber is moving right along while the squash and zucchini are not dead but just sit there and do nothing after weeks of fruitless blooms.

Meanwhile, remember the gourd behind the office building? The one planted in mulch that is mixed with sewage to give it a horrid smell and a coal-black color? It's a pumpkin! And the pumpkins are thriving. Actually, that patch of mulch has exploded in growth in the last six weeks. I've also discovered a hosta, petunias, marigolds, acorn squash, cucumber, possibly wantermelon, and some romaine lettuce. All of it thriving. Beautiful. Tantalizing. And toxic.

Have a look:

It's grown quite a bit!

And this guy's already about six inches in diameter. The others are a bit smaller. Even the blossoms are huge--about five or six inches long.

I'm already on my second set of Wave petunias because I missed ONE day of watering and they scorched on my front porch. Meanwhile? These things fluorish in black mulch next to asphalt.

Life is not fair. Thank goodness for McNeil's Produce Stand and Delvin Farms at the farmer's market.