Lori Borgman: This gardener has more seeds than sense

Lori Borgman, Tribune News Service on Jul 14, 2026

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My philosophy concerning a garden is the same as my philosophy toward dessert — there’s always room for a little more.

It didn’t take long this spring before I realized I was sowing too many seeds in too little space. Then a light bulb flashed and I thought, “Why not go vertical?” I could just coax everything to latch onto big swaths of chicken wire and reach for the sky.

Fee-fi-fo-fum. Pole beans, sugar peas, and cucumber vines coiled and curled and now brush the heels and pinky toes of giants.

The plan worked, though now we can walk around the garden but not actually in the garden. It’s a jungle. No zebras or elephants (that I can see), but a jungle.

I recently guided one of the smaller grands through the jungle to pick cherry tomatoes. It was like an air traffic controller helping land a plane whose instrument panel had gone dark.

“Veer a little to your right, honey. Careful with your left foot! It’s about to smash a potato plant. That thing on your head is nothing but a big cucumber leaf. Don’t look up, just keep your eyes on the little red balls.”

She maneuvered according to directions. “Plant your left foot to the side the sugar peas and pole beans. Now lean in, stretch as far as you can and I think you can reach the tomatoes.”

She nabbed her first few when I yelled, “Basil! You’re trampling the basil!” Of course, this scared her and the day’s take flew into the air.

Word is she’s not coming back to Grandma’s until the fall harvest is over.

Some suggest I have gone off the deep end. And yes, what you heard is true, when someone asks for gift ideas, I now say worm castings.

I have homesteader envy. I’m mesmerized by people selling homes in the ‘burbs, moving to the country and declaring they will live off the food they produce.

Were we to go off the grid tomorrow, we would be sustained solely by 15 cherry tomatoes, three sprigs of rosemary and an unending supply of basil.

You’d be able to smell us before you could see us.

“How does Italian sound for dinner?” I would ask the husband.

“You mean some version of tomatoes?”

“Yes.”

“We had that last night.”

“And we’re going to have it every night from here on out.”

Welcome to the new frontier.