I Thought I Had a Green Thumb, Turns Out I Have a Green Patio

It started innocently enough. Every time we went to the store, I would buy a plant or two. I wasn’t trying to create a garden. I certainly wasn’t trying to fill my patio with buckets. I was simply feeling ambitious and wanted to see what I could grow.

One plant became three. Three became ten. Before long, I had lost count.

Recently, I decided to take inventory and was shocked by how much was actually growing or at least attempting to grow on my patio.

Patio photo:

The Vine Crowd

• One cucumber bucket with vines spreading everywhere
• One climbing cherry tomato plant
• Three squash plants, although two are hanging on by a thread
• Two zucchini plants

Herbs & Flavor

• Four stevia plants. Two we bought at half price and somehow brought back to life, a story within itself
• Two sweet basil plants
• Two rosemary plants
• One thyme plant
• One oregano plant that seems determined to take over its container
• One dill plant
• One lavender plant
• One pot of Ocimum gratissimum — I purchased it believing it was Nigerian scent leaf, but so far it has done absolutely nothing but sit there

Peppers, Okra & Fruit

• Two lunchbox pepper plants
• One jalapeño plant
• One chili pepper plant
• Four okra plants: two heirloom Clemson and two Green Fingers varieties
• Two strawberry plants

Earlier this season, we also had two buckets of carrots. They actually did well enough that we harvested and ate them, making them the first graduates of my patio garden.

Before anyone starts imagining a gardening magazine photo shoot, let me be honest: not everything is thriving.

Some plants are flourishing. Others are merely surviving. A few seem confused about their purpose in life.

The cucumber vines are trying to take over the patio, while the squash plants appear to be negotiating whether they want to stay with us. The rosemary has remained stubbornly unchanged, almost as if it is protesting being moved into a container.

Then there is the okra. I have short okra and tall okra. Some of it looks determined to reach the sky while other plants seem content staying compact. Apparently, even okra has different personalities.

I’ve also learned that okra doesn’t grow nearly as long as it used to before becoming hard and woody. And who knew there were different kinds of okra? I certainly didn’t. Growing up, I thought there was only one type, the kind that makes you itch when you pick it!

And then there were the casualties.
I forgot to mention the spinach, curly kale, and romaine lettuce. They were doing great until I accidentally killed them. I spotted ants and thought they were the problem, so I hit the plants with dish detergent and peppermint spray. Turns out the solution was stronger than the pests. Lesson learned: sometimes the gardener is the biggest threat to the garden.

Gardener’s Tip: Always test a small leaf before spraying the whole plant with any homemade solution.

Had I planned to write about this journey, I would have taken better pictures along the way. I would have documented each planting. I would have organized the containers and labeled everything neatly. Instead, what I have is a collection of random photos and a patio that can best be described as controlled chaos.

But maybe that’s what makes it real.

I never planned any of this. I didn’t plan to start a garden, and I certainly didn’t plan to become someone who gets excited about seeing a tiny cucumber, a squash blossom, or the first okra pod of the season.

My kitchen is small. I still cook on an old-fashioned four-burner stove with regular pots and pans. Nothing fancy. There is no grand homesteading plan happening over here. Just a woman with a patio, a growing collection of buckets, and a willingness to see what happens.

Maybe that’s why every harvest feels like such an accomplishment.

Somewhere between watering plants before work, checking for flowers, watching tiny vegetables appear, and wondering why certain plants refuse to cooperate, I discovered something unexpected. Gardening became therapy.

Life has a way of filling our days with responsibilities, deadlines, disappointments, and stress. Yet every time I step onto my patio, I find myself slowing down. For a few minutes, my attention shifts away from problems and toward growth.

This little garden has reminded me that growth isn’t always neat or predictable. Some things flourish quickly. Some take longer than expected. Some don’t produce what we hoped. Some surprise us completely. Life is a lot like that.

Perhaps the greatest blessing has been being reminded of God’s incredible creativity. Watching seeds sprout, flowers bloom, and vegetables develop from what once seemed like nothing has given me a deeper appreciation for the genius of God’s design. Every plant is different. Every leaf is unique. Every harvest feels like a small miracle.

The more time I spend with my buckets, the more I marvel at the Creator behind them.

I always thought I had a green thumb. Turns out, I really have a green patio. While every plant may not be thriving, every bucket has taught me something.

And when I stop and look at everything growing, sprawling, climbing, blooming, surviving, and occasionally refusing to cooperate, I’m amazed that all of it is happening on this little patio.

Not bad for a patch of concrete and a whole lot of buckets.

Maybe that’s the lesson in all of this. God doesn’t need a large garden, expensive equipment, or perfect conditions to create something beautiful. Sometimes He starts with a small space, a handful of buckets, and a willing heart.

And before you know it, both the garden and the gardener begin to grow.