The sometimes magical, sometimes annoying thing about your garden is how much it changes. Things look very different in early summer than they will in November, to the point that it’s impossible to remember exactly where everything was when you begin to plan and plant next season’s garden. That’s why it’s essential to have a place to keep your notes from season to season, so you can track every detail of your outdoor space.
Note any holes that need to be filled in next year
I’ve planted hundreds of bulbs and grown more perennials than I can count, but every year, there are holes in the garden. It can happen for all kinds of reasons—a plant doesn’t return one year, or the garden shifts on its own somehow, or I just didn’t consider a specific angle when planting. For whatever reason, I try to walk past my house and look at it the way others would see it every few weeks, and then document any notes in my little garden notebook. For instance, I’ve gone so hard on bulbs in one area of my yard that it makes an adjacent area look bare. I first noted this last year, and this year, I added some pops of color in that spot to balance it out. Even the areas with lots of color had a few holes where bulbs didn’t take, and I documented them to backfill this fall.
The gaps become more evident at different periods of time–in fall, I notice spots that could be backfilled next year so things don’t look so dead; and in early spring, I notice which areas sprout first because of the sun and plan to put the snapdragons there. The thing is, if you’d ask me to remember all of this at the time I need to do the planting, I wouldn’t.
Make casual observations and note reoccurring issues
I have two garden arches that I have spent three years struggling with, trying to find the perfect vegetable to cover them in summer. This year I grew gourds nearby that went on to take over half my yard. I want to remember that they’ll work on the trellis next year, so I made a note. I made a note that the idea to grow green beans in the middle of a raised bed was really poorly thought out, since no one can reach them to pick, and I don’t want to repeat the mistake. I noted that I need to rethink the trellis for my sauce tomatoes, and I need to move the bush beans next year, and that the African marigolds each need their own frame. Each of these observations is pretty minor on its own, but they add up, and I’ll enjoy my garden a lot more next year if I don’t forget about them and make all the same mistakes again.
I also make note of colors and where they ought to go and not go, what needs to be thinned because it’s getting out of hand, and what area needs better (or less) irrigation.
Plan your harvest before you plant a single seed
Each year, I swear I am only going to grow one kind of sauce tomato and inevitably, it becomes twelve. The same is true for lettuce and eggplant and onions. The key to solving this problem is to keep score. At the end of the season, make note of which varieties have succeeded and which have failed. Next year, you’ll be able to narrow things down to only plant what you were able to harvest most successfully. This year, Banana Legs tomatoes were the great disappointment, while Sunrise Sauce were a surprise dark horse. These notes extend to what I actually enjoyed working with (or struggled to use up) in the kitchen too. Through this process I’ve narrowed down my preferences for garlic (Music), potatoes (Amarosa), and eggplant (Galina).
Your notes don’t have to be organized. Keep them wherever and however makes sense to you, so long as you can locate and read them when planting time comes. I make small drawings all summer in my notebook, but am always sure to put together a quick page for yearly observations. It’s what I consult when ordering seeds in the dark of winter, and when I do my yearly layout for the garden.