Garden Triage
When carelessness can cost lives ...well, for an eggplant anyway.
A number of years ago, I stumbled on a particularly productive variety of Asian eggplant, from which I saved seed. It was an impulse purchase while in a rush at Lowes. The plant I bought was labeled “Black Beauty”, which is probably the most common eggplant variety in home gardens — the standard, blocky type of affair that you expect to see in supermarkets. Unfortunately (or so I thought), it turned out to be another case of “mislabeled seedling at big box store” — an all-too-common issue for gardeners in recent years. But this case of mistaken identity turned out to be a happy mistake. The plant became enormous, at least by eggplant standards; by the end of the season, it had produced dozens of longer, thinner fruits that looked more like large purple plantains than eggplants. They also were less bitter than their typical, chubby eggplant brethren. I prefer these to any eggplant I’ve grown and/or eaten.
And so baba ghanoush and eggplant parmesan abounded that summer; it was a propitious time, the confluence of some good luck and good technique. And, as an extra bonus, the plant also produced viable seed, which has borne equally productive plants for a number of years. But the subsequent generation doesn’t seem to produce viable seed, or at least has not yet. So my run of eggplant luck might be petering out soon, as that original batch of seed gives up the ghost. Part of me wonders if I need to grow two plants and cross-pollinate manually — I typically grow only one plant. Maybe I will try that next season, if the original seed is still viable. It will be the sixth or seventh year for that batch of seeds, so I am pushing my luck.
So that’s the back story …which is fun to know but not my point today.
My story for today begins with a stupendously dumb error I made when transplanting my customary lone eggplant plant into the garden back in the spring. It was evening and I was in a rush. The plant was ready to go into the garden, so I decided to put it in the ground (evening is a great time to plant sensitive seedlings because they do not face immediate stress from the sun). Well, that’s all fine and good, but it doesn’t matter a whole lot if you forget to water it. And I never watered it. Yeah, me, a guy who has been growing gardens for fifty-five years, give or take. The guy who runs a garden group and dispenses advice like water from a fountain -- that guy forgot to water a seedling. Duh.
So of course it got hot and sunny for a few days, until I finally realized that I never watered the thing. So I ran out to check on it, and, sure enough, it was a limp and lifeless blob. I cried (okay, I didn't, but imagine I did, for effect. I actually said something naughty). After the naughty words and sighs died down, I decided that there's no harm in trying to revive it. So I watered it and consulted my limited bag of gardening tricks, which offered only one real option, which was to provide lots of water and maximum shade for a few days. So out came my trusty mini beach umbrella.
The next day rolled around, and the plant still didn't look particularly good. But, to my eye, it seemed "less dead". After a few more days, I concluded that it certainly wasn't dead, and might not even be on its way out. If anything, it was struggling to resuscitate... truly just tired and shagged out after a long squawk. A few more days passed, and I thought that maybe I'd give it a little direct sun. Which turned out to not be a great idea -- it wilted again. Not completely, but it clearly wasn't ready for the real world just yet.
As June gave way to July and then August, I went through this cycle at least three times, each time thinking the plant was ready to face the world, but determining otherwise and returning it to life support. Finally, with the peak season just beginning to wane, and the sun angle decreasing juuuust a bit, the little eggplant decided that it was ready. New leaves emerged, full sun was suddenly an asset rather than poison, and the plant was on its way. When September arrived, we picked our first eggplant, then a second and a third not far behind. Now, with summer just about gone, it seems like the plant is trying to make up for lost time. And my horrendously stupid rookie mistake in the spring is having a happy ending.
Moral of the story: Don't do stupid, careless things.
But seriously though, it is possible for a neglected plant to recover, but it does require an understanding of the problem and some patience. The problem in this case was basic plumbing -- by failing to water the plant, I injured the young plant's root system pretty badly, and it was unable to supply the moisture that the plant needed, particularly in the sun. And it took a couple months for the roots to recover enough to support new plant growth. The key to success in a situation like that is (1) luck, and (2) making life as easy on the plant as possible, so that it can survive while rebuilding itself. That means plenty of water and no full sun. An an active prayer life helps too... And you never know, sometimes you'll get the movie ending with the inspiring music over the credits. There was a dream of an eggplant, and it shall be realized… fortunately, my eggplant plant fared better than Maximus did. But you get the idea.