Before you buy seeds

Designing for the Garden You’ll Actually Maintain

Seed catalogs have been arriving all January long.

When it’s at or below freezing outside, I love to put on my warmest socks, add an extra sweater, grab a blanket and cup of tea and flip through those beautiful, mouth-watering pages of possibility.

When I first started gardening, I’d mark up every catalog - inking stars next to anything that looked interesting, dog-earing pages, and building wish lists that quickly ballooned to 75 or more varieties of vegetables, herbs, and flowers. I’d order half of them and still end up with far more than I could reasonably grow or manage.

As I gained experience in the garden – and learned more about permaculture, regenerative agriculture, and what I now call a maintenance mindset – something shifted. I stopped designing for abundance on paper and started designing for the garden I could actually steward.

Here’s what that looks like in practice:

1.      I incorporated more perennial edible plants into my foodscape.

I’d much rather spend a few focused hours each year pruning fruit trees, shrubs, vines, and herb plants - and covering fruit to protect it from birds and critters – than spend hours every week monitoring water, scouting for pests and disease, and fighting wildlife all season long.

2.      I grow many herbs in pots instead of the ground.

Herbs make excellent companion plants: they attract pollinators and deter pests. Keeping them in containers allows me to move them around as I rotate crops. For the colder months, they go in a cold frame or come inside the house. Some, like rosemary, have permanent residence in the ground, but I strategically place them in corners or hard-to-reach edges so I can plant around them.

3.      I track what I plant – and how it actually performs.

Throughout the season, I take notes: what did I plant and how much did it yield, what tolerated August drought conditions, what deer devoured despite being labeled ‘deer resistant’, and what succumbed to whiteflies, harlequin bugs, and squash bugs. These observations matter far more than catalog descriptions because they reflect my unique growing conditions.

4.      I stopped growing cucumbers, zucchini, and tomatoes.

I know. Blasphemy.

But these crops demand significant water, protection, and attention – right when it’s hottest outside and the bugs are their worst. My family does not eat enough of these crops to make it worth the effort. Instead, I buy these crops at the farmers market from local farmers who grow them far more efficiently at scale.

5.      Before I look at the seed catalogs, I make an annual planting plan.

Using a base map of my beds, I rotate crop families, identify the main crops I want to grow (potatoes instead of tomatoes; ground cherries, spicy peppers, celery, broccoli, kale, collards, Brussels sprouts, parsnips, sweet potatoes, North Georgia candy roaster squash, etc.), and layer in intercrops and companion plants to deter or trap pests.

Some seed catalogs are beautifully hand-drawn, some have gorgeous photos of fresh produce at its peak. They are inspiring – but inspiration without intention often leads to burnout. Before you make tea, cozy up, and tuck into those catalogs, take time to design for the foodscape you will actually maintain.

Your future self will thank you.