Daddy’s Green Thumb

Growing up, we had a giant garden full of the most delicious fruits and vegetables. It was surrounded by some of the Pacific Northwest’s finest flowers too. My dad sure had a green thumb! Naturally, I thought I could somehow “inherit” that part of him. Not the case at all!

To my despair, I learned that I had a brown thumb. It was amazing. I was even able to kill plants that were “foolproof,” that “anyone could grow.” Even succulents were toast in my house because I would forget to give them the couple drops of water they needed every few months.

I gave up.

Later, after having a few kids and maturing quite a bit, it hit me like a ton of bricks. The green thumb was not what made my dad a master gardener. It wasn’t even his degree in botany. It was, in fact, his love and passion for the craft. It was the research, preparation, attention to detail and sacrifice. He would hand-weed and inspect each growing little miracle like a sergeant. He would beam with pride when the rhubarb grew unusually tall or the strawberries were extra sweet.

With this newfound outlook, I set out to reattempt my previously pitiful gardening efforts. “This time was different,” I thought. So I planted all the things, readied the soil, bought organic seeds and expected a bountiful harvest overnight. Well, it was far and away better than the first time, but I was still fighting creepy crawlies and refused to use poisonous products on my soon-to-be organic produce. It was then I remembered my dad’s little trick of using that super fragrant blue dish soap on the plants. Well shoot, I didn’t have any of that nor did I feel it should be used on something our family intended to eat.

So I grabbed the dish soap I did have, put a couple squirts in the bottom of my watering can and watered as usual for a week. As you can see from the images, the difference was night and day! I just may have the faintest green in my thumb after all.