Welcome to My Garden Journal (and Journey) for 2026 - BLOG

It’s been two long years since I’ve been able to grow a garden.

Life shifted in big ways during that season. We relocated to North Carolina, and for a while I didn’t even have a yard, just a moving target and a lot of transition. Gardening simply wasn’t possible. And while that season held good things, I missed the soil deeply.

Now, though, everything has changed.

We’re on three-quarters of an acre. It’s flat. It’s usable. And my backyard is absolutely begging for a garden. Every time I look out the window, I can practically see the rows already forming in my imagination.

I am all in on my garden plans this year. I’m excited… and also, if I’m honest, just a little nervous. Big dreams tend to do that to me.

My Big Hairy Audacious Gardening Goal

This dream didn’t start this year. It began about five years ago, when a quiet idea started taking root in my heart: what if I could grow a garden big enough to truly feed my family throughout the year?

Around that time, I was getting deeper into canning and food preservation. I started dreaming about walking into my backyard and harvesting dinner instead of running to the store. I began to see the value of homegrown potatoes and carrots that could last through the winter. And slowly, that dream took shape into what I now lovingly call my Big Hairy Audacious Goal:

I wanted to grow a garden large enough to supply roughly 90% of the fruits and vegetables my family eats in a year.

For context, our family is ten people strong… and eight of those are boys, teens,  and a mnn. This is not a small-appetite household.

It sounded inspiring. It sounded noble. It also sounded completely ridiculous.

Because here was the small inconvenience: at that point in my life, I had successfully gardened approximately twice.

Once was in our tiny one-bedroom apartment twelve years ago, when I managed a modest collection of container plants. The second time was in California, when I planted a garden from transplants and promptly watched every single plant die in a drought. I had also tried starting seeds once.

They all died too.

So naturally, with this glowing résumé of gardening success, I did what I always do and decided this massive goal was absolutely achievable and that I was claiming it as my own.

When Wisdom Finally Spoke Up

As I’ve grown and matured (and learned a few things the hard way), wisdom gently tapped me on the shoulder and whispered something important:

“Make sure this goal is actually doable. Don’t jump in with too much, all at once.”

So I reframed the dream.

Instead of wanting to accomplish this immediately, I gave myself a realistic runway:

In ten years, I want to grow a garden large enough to produce about 90% of the produce my family eats in a year.

Now that felt ambitious but attainable. Still bold. Still stretching. But grounded in patience and learning.

I set that goal four years ago. And I’m happy to report that while I’m nowhere near the final destination, I am absolutely closer than I was when I started. Six more years still feels like a tight timeline for something this big—but steady progress counts for a lot.

Learning One Skill at a Time

I knew from the beginning that if this dream was going to become reality, it would have to grow slowly and intentionally.

My first year, I went all in on learning how to start seeds. Buying plant starts would never be financially sustainable for the scale I eventually wanted, so this felt like the logical foundation.

That year, I didn’t worry about pests, harvesting, or even whether the garden would truly thrive. My only goal was to learn everything I possibly could about seed starting—and to do it inexpensively.

And guess what? Today, seed starting feels second nature to me.

What once felt overwhelming and complicated now feels routine. I’m gearing up to start multiple rounds of seeds over the next eight weeks, and it feels easy. I even managed a decent harvest that first year and learned a hundred small lessons along the way. Not bad for someone who once killed every seed she touched.

The following year, I added a few new layers: expanding the garden, dedicating an entire bed to peppers (only mildly successful—note to self: start peppers much earlier), learning how to grow potatoes and onions, and experimenting with a small fall garden.

And that’s when I discovered that I absolutely love fall gardening. It might actually be my favorite season to grow.

Then life happened. A cross-country move and baby number eight put gardening plans on pause for two full years. Not exactly part of the original timeline—but seasons have a way of doing that.

And now here I am again: in a new state, in a new home, with two containers full of seeds and a wide-open backyard waiting to become something beautiful.

What’s New for 2026

This year brings a big first for us: we’re creating an entirely new in-ground garden space measuring 20 by 25 feet.

Up until now, all of my gardening has been in raised beds. I’m excited to expand more affordably into a larger footprint and experiment with a no-till gardening approach. We’ll be laying down cardboard this week to begin building the soil, and I’m genuinely excited to watch this space come to life.

I also have a handful of small “firsts” on my list this year: growing sweet potatoes, experimenting with luffa sponges, doing much more vertical gardening, and starting elderberry cuttings from a friend’s bush—just to name a few.

Some of these will go well. Some probably won’t. And that’s part of the joy of learning.

Come Garden With Me

If you’ve ever dreamed about growing more of your own food—or expanding what you’re already doing—I’d love for you to join me this year.

I’ll be blogging throughout the season, sharing what I’m learning, what’s working, what’s flopping, and what’s surprising me along the way. I’m gardening in Zone 8a, but you certainly don’t need to be in the same zone to follow along and grow together.

Whether you’re looking for inspiration, encouragement to finally pick up a shovel, beginner-friendly guidance (I’m still far from an expert), or a place to share your own wisdom if you’re a seasoned gardener—this space is for you.

Welcome to my garden journal and my gardening journey for 2026. I’m so glad you’re here.