Three years ago, when I moved to my current apartment, I first tried to get a garden plot in the local community garden.  This year I finally scored.  While I enjoy the challenges of container-grown vegetable plants, the biggest challenge is to keep my dachshund Larkyn from eating my tomatoes and peppers before I can harvest them.  Usually he and I are best pals, but when it comes to the tomatoes, we have pitched battles with the plants getting the worst of it.  Sadly, my 

Until now.  Now I will have my own little piece of real estate, 14 feet by 14 feet, where Larkyn will not accompany me and my deck where he will.  Now I am fantasizing about relaxing on the deck with Larkyn, and, even more, I am fantasizing about which varieties of tomatoes I want to grow.  One row or two of beans?  Beets?  Onions?  Which peppers?  Which new, interesting vegetables shall I experiment with?

I have been to visit my garden-to-be twice since I learned it will be mine.  Weeds are beginning to sprout while stones emerge from the soil.  Whoever had it before me probably didn’t love it much.  Our soil here is the clay found in suburbs when developers scrape away the top soil to sell, leaving a clay that might as well be bedrock until amendments are added to soften it.  I know I’ve got my work cut out for me improving my garden’s soil.  I’ll be carting in compost and peat moss before I consider planting anything.  But I can hardly wait to get working.    

Larkyn the old dachshund and I bundled up and headed down the hallway to the back door where Larkyn goes out to take care of his morning abutions.  We slid down the back stairs which had not yet been shoveled.  We had about eight inches of snow, enough to reach over  Larkyn’s shoulders.  In spite of the awkwardness and discomfort, Larkyn took care of his needs, and then struggled back up the stairs, eager to get indoors.  Of course, he was sopping wet, so as soon as we got in our own door, I wrapped him in a towel.  Luckily, smooth dachshunds dry quickly.

I heated a cinnamon muffin and a sausage to eat with my coffee, read the NYTimes, and then bundled up again, to go clear snow from in front of my garage, into the part of the parking lot that can be plowed.  I brought my shovel back to the apartment so I could clear my deck.  If I don’t, melting snow drips down onto the patio of my downstairs neighbor, Deb.  She’s a good neighbor, so I try to be the same.

Now all the kids living in this complex, whose school is closed for the day, are out in the courtyard, sliding down the highest burm.  They’ve been trying all winter to sled on an inch or less of snow, with little success.  Now they’ve finally got both a real snowfall and a windfall vacation day to enjoy it.

If I was ten years old, I’d join them.

1. What vegetables do you enjoy eating now?  If you haven’t prepared a dish with zucchini in the last year, don’t grow it in your garden.  If you like fresh tomatoes, but not cooked ones, choose medium, flavorful tomato varieties with bright skins rather than the huge, juicy varieties best for canning and sauces.

2.  Think about how long your growing season is.  In the north, varieties that take over a hundred days to mature may be damaged or killed by frost before you can enjoy a harvest.

3.  Think about space.  Vining plants like tomatoes and squash are big and sprawling, taking much more space than root crops like carrots  or beets, or Brassica family plants like broccoli or cabbage.

4.  Do you want the vegetables for fresh preparation or do you hope to can or freeze some?  The best canners and freezers will be identified that way in the catalogue.

5.  Don’t forget to have some fun!  Grow some purple potatoes or yard-long beans just for laughs or a new culinary experience.

As long as you keep good records for future seasons, you can’t really make a mistake.  Even if a certain variety does poorly, you’ll have learned something that makes your choices easier next year.