Alright, so folks keep asking about this “season 3 the way home” thing, like it’s some secret sauce I cooked up. Nah. It’s just what I ended up calling my wrestling match with that stubborn patch of dirt out back. My garden, or what was supposed to be one. Sounds easy, don’t it? You stick seeds in the ground, things pop up. Yeah, right. Not in my world, not for the longest time.
The First Screw-Ups: Seasons 1 & 2
Season 1, man, that was a joke. I dived in headfirst. Bought every shiny tool, every fancy seed packet with a name I couldn’t pronounce. Figured I was smarter than dirt. Just chucked everything in. And what did I get? Squat. Zilch. Well, the weeds had a field day, I’ll give ’em that. Threw a regular party back there.
So, for Season 2, I thought, “Okay, genius, time to use your brain.” Read a book, even watched a couple of those online gurus. “Soil prep,” they all harped on about. Fine. So I dug. I hauled compost. Broke my back doing it. Felt like I was doing everything by the book this time. Planted less, picked stuff that sounded tougher. And guess what? It was… well, a tiny bit less pathetic. A few sorry-looking tomatoes, the kind that make you feel bad for them. Squirrels probably got the best ones anyway. Another season pretty much flushed down the toilet. I was starting to think I just had a black thumb, or the yard was cursed.
Finally Finding “The Way Home” in Season 3
I was real close to just pouring concrete over the whole mess, I tell ya. Then this old timer from down the block, Mr. Henderson, he sees me out there, probably looking like I lost my last dollar. He just sort of grunted, then cracked a smile. Didn’t offer any complicated fixes or magic potions. All he said was, “Quit tryin’ to force it, son. Just watch. Watch where the sun hits. See how the water flows. The ground’ll tell ya what it wants.”
So, Season 3 rolled around, and that’s what I did. For once, I put my wallet away. I just… watched. Stood out there with my coffee. Noticed the sunniest spots weren’t where I’d been digging like a madman. Saw how the rain made a swamp in one corner I’d been trying to grow fussy plants in. Dead simple stuff, right? Stuff I’d been too damn stubborn or too busy following “expert advice” to even notice.
Then I started slow. Moved a couple of things. Used some old boards I had lying around to build up a couple of beds where it got real soggy. Wasn’t aiming for a blue ribbon at the county fair. Just wanted something, anything, to actually decide to live.
- I stuck to just two or three types of plants. The kinds Mr. Henderson called “the tough old buzzards that don’t take no for an answer.”
- I actually watered less. Only when things looked properly thirsty.
- And I listened more to that old fella. He’d amble by, squint at something, nod, or just grunt. Turns out, grunts can be pretty damn insightful.
And wouldn’t you know it? Things started to happen. Not overnight, no miracles. But stuff started growing. For real this time. Healthy. That feeling, man, seeing actual food coming up from dirt I’d nearly given up on… that was “the way home” for me. Not about some complicated system. Just about finally getting my head out of my backside and paying attention. Took me three whole seasons, and a lot of frustration, to learn that simple lesson.
So yeah, that’s my “season 3 the way home.” Nothing fancy. Just a regular guy, finally figuring out that sometimes the best way to do things is the simplest way, and that listening to the ground, and maybe an old timer, beats all the books in the world. Still got miles to go, but at least the plants ain’t actively trying to die on me anymore. That’s a win in my book.
