I surrender. Last weekend I was looking at the decaying remnants of my garden, and then I went and tore it all out. The deer fencing, the trellises, the decaying and collapsing boards around the raised beds, the dead weeds and such from last year’s neglect. That was probably the first time I went out there in years. But now it is gone.

I spent my younger years on a small farm. My mother had a large garden, but I never really paid attention. I always had my nose in a book, or, in my teenage years, in front of a computer keyboard. I went off to college, moved to the city, and forgot about it. When I bought a house I briefly got a garden going, inspired by Eugene Coleman’s gardening TV show (back when the Discovery channel had good shows). I got a good crop of tomatoes, but between work demands and a failing marriage, that fell by the wayside. The house was sold and I spend several years moving around the country, forgetting many things: the garden, old friends, my boat, etc.

After my daughter was born it was time to settle down and buy a house. This time I had a significant amount of land and I had grand plans. But no grand results were forthcoming.

For every action there is an equal and opposite rebuke. Though with my garden it was not a proportional response, almost everything I tried was met with stunning defeat. Defeat after defeat.

Lack of sunlight is a problem, while I own half an acre, it is populated with 46 trees, many of them quite large, such that no spot in the yard gets more than a few hours of direct sunlight. It became obvious that removing trees would only partly help, as the western side of my yard borders on woods. So increasing sunlight would have required the removal of dozens of trees, many of which I don’t own.

I probably should have stopped there, but I decided to marshall ahead.

My first near-harvest, was a small eggplant. My wife saw it while she was in the house, and decided to go and pick it. As she is headed that way, she looks back out at the garden and sees a squirrel running across the yard with that eggplant in his mouth. The tomatoes next to it got partly eaten my hornworms. And the poison ivy, which is endemic here, grew up through my sheet mulch and ended up being pulled with some weeds, leading to a nasty rash.

So larger beds, more compost, in a different location. But the deer like to sample, so I built a fence. And the squirrels and woodchucks liked the looks of those pinkish tomatoes, and would try a bite: “Ew! That’s awful, let’s try the next one…” and so on. Most tomatoes that grew within a foot or two of the ground would look tempting, but when picked had a big rotten hole in the bottom of them.

Both the tomatoes and cucumbers spend the summer in a race against the various sorts of fungus and blight consuming their lower leaves, and before the end of the season the whole plants would wither, struggling to produce a few fruits. I tried zucchini several times which generally resulted in no female flowers (and, thus, no fruit) or the leaves consumed by fungus, or both.

Years ago I got a bunch of asparagus roots and planted an 8 foot row down the middle of one of the beds, that row slowly shortened, fewer and fewer shoots coming up each year, until now it seems to be a single plant, which produced a couple of shoots last year.

I have generally been a fan of no-till gardening and started most of my beds by sheet mulching: laying down a layer of cardboard and then piling leaf mulch and compost on top of it. One time I decided I should try double digging a bed. Every single time I put the shovel in the ground there was the “clunk” of a stone. I slowly got the digging done, pulling out so many stones, that, even after adding all the compost I had, I ended up with a sunken bed instead of a raised bed. Though this is no surprise given the geology of this place: The entire state was scraped clean through every ice age. There is only a thin layer of soil on top of stone.

So I constructed my beds, filled them with compost mostly from the leaves which fall every year. Nice loose soil to plant my seedlings in. But when it came to plant in those beds the next year, I found digging holes difficult, for all the roots spread through the beds. As I dug I pulled out numerous clumps of roots. At first I thought it was the leftover roots from last years plants, but I came to realize where those roots lead, as I look up at the numerous trees surrounding my yard. I am sure the majestic maples high overhead are sending their roots far and wide in the thin soil to find nourishment, and those compost-filled raised beds are pretty tasty. The seedlings in those beds end up losing out to these neighborhood bullies, coming by and stealing their lunch money (and lunch).

Maybe I should try some more shade tolerant plants, maybe some brassicas. What I quickly discovered was that cabbage worms are everywhere, and will swiftly devour the entire plant. Given the legions of caterpillars, once the eggs are laid on the plant, the battle is lost. I tried row covers, but either I did not put them on at the right times or didn’t seal them up well enough. But even the plants that I did manage to get to maturity were scrawny things due to what I mentioned above.

I also tried growing lettuce, often in containers, but that can be a feat as the climate here seems uniquely suited to causing plants to bolt, sometimes to the point that flowers are forming before there are many leaves at all. I can certainly understand that, because spring usually only lasts a week or so here. It is usually a week where I start out wearing sweaters due to the freezing cold, and by the end of the week I am wearing shorts and putting in the air conditioners to tame the stifling heat.

Planting new seedlings was always an adventure. Besides the problem with all the roots in the bed that I mentioned earlier, squirrels are drawn to new plantings, and usually at least one plant will be dug out of the bed by the next morning, if I am lucky it is intact enough to replant. Apparently they do not realize that if they just waited a few months there would be small fruits which they could chew on or run off with (as they often do). One time I planted out my new seedlings, and as I was finishing the sky grew dark and it started raining, a total downpour. When I came out afterwards to check on the garden, I found all my seedlings were gone, pounded into oblivion.

I grew saffron for a couple of years, but digging up the bulbs is a challenge with all the roots to dig around, the last time I did so I found most of the bulbs dug up and/or eaten. It may not have been the squirrels, but with all the other damage they cause, I am not giving them the benefit of the doubt.

So the plants face quite a range of challenges, what about me? For most of the growing season it is very hot and humid, things that insects like. The mosquitos were relentless. So were the ticks (deer ticks with lyme disease, no less). I was bitten repeatedly despite bug spray, BTI laced traps, etc. Oh, and the poison ivy, which grows everywhere. The only thing left was a mechanical barrier. So I would have to wear jeans and long sleeve shirt, regardless of the weather and always plan to shower immediately afterwards. Tending to the garden was a time consuming ordeal, and, as such, didn’t happen as often as it should.

Can I say anything positive? I see many gardeners complaining about “weed pressure”, but weeds rarely caused me a problem. I suspect the weeds were smart enough not to grow in such an inhospitable place. And water was rarely an issue, usually it rained frequently enough so that I didn’t need to put extra water on the garden, but on the other hand, I think all this rain and lack of sunlight exacerbated the fungal diseases.

Let’s review: lack of sunlight, fungal diseases, insect pests, squirrels, woodchucks, deer, mosquitoes, ticks, tree roots, thin soil, horrible weather. The deck is stacked against me. I surrender.