This year, we have a vegetable garden; a small one with a few tomato plants, some cucumber plants, and a variety of peppers. We haven’t had one in several years. Partly, that’s been because we have poor soil and a shady lot, so we don’t get a lot from the garden. Also, I have an ongoing feud with the neighborhood squirrels — and to a lesser extent, birds — since they seem to think the garden is theirs and not mine.

Every morning, I go out and take a good look at what’s going on in the garden. I have a few cucumbers coming along. I found a slug on a flower. I had to make it clear to one cucumber plant that it was totally uncool to try to strangle a jalapeno pepper plant, so I pulled its tendrils loose and redirected it. Our two enormous tomato plants have one tomato between them, while my little patio tomato has half a dozen or so. Various peppers are visibly bigger each morning. I know I have a few weeds to pull, which is an ongoing battle, and I need to put down something for the slugs and maybe a bit of Sevin dust for various other prolific critters inspired by a very wet spring.

I don’t expect we’ll get a lot out of the garden, and given the cost of the plants, fertilizer, potting soil for various herbs and such, I figure each tomato will cost in the neighborhood of a small VW. This is why we haven’t had a veggie garden in several years; sometimes, it seems like the effort isn’t worth the outcome.

And sometimes, weight loss efforts seem that way, too. As I grow steadily closer to last fall’s low weight, I’ve been sure to tend my own garden — this chosen path toward health — just like I have to tend a vegetable garden. When we went camping a few weeks back, I worried about my garden; and since I make a daily habit of stepping on the scales for my own accountability, I worried about that, too. Whether I weigh or not, that constant thought is there — in the same way that knowing my garden hasn’t been tended in a few days can mean a lot of work to get it back where it was, whether it’s pulling weeds or battling insect invasions.

Anything we choose to take on requires tending and care. If I were to ignore my garden, it would quickly become overgrown. I’ve had to go above and beyond to not only keep it safe from insects, but (laughably) my little plot of land is guarded by four rubber snakes, a handful of flashy pinwheels, and a couple of plastic flamingos that have seen better days. The snakes have scared off the squirrels, and I occasionally shake some cayenne pepper out there, usually in my potted plants, just to discourage them. The pinwheels have kept the birds away. And the flamingos? Eh, just because. 😉

Sure, it’s a lot. I’ve had to change and tweak as I’ve gone forward, just to make sure we get something out of the garden, and we will, soon. The same holds true for my path toward health, nearing seven years this fall; I’ve had to adapt, change, readjust, and make sure I don’t leave it untended or it’s a long way back to where I want to be. A weedy garden soon becomes overgrown, and a neglected path means more work to get my bearings. Both, though, are worth the effort to reclaim them so they can grow.