One thing I feel the need to put out there: I hated gardening when I was a kid. I dreaded the Sundays when my parents would drag tools out of the shed and announce it was time to pull weeds. So I am sure my family found it hilarious when, in January, three months into living alone during a pandemic, I reached my limit for spending time indoors and announced I would be joining a community garden. Does this make me an adult? The jury is still out on that one. Despite my enthusiasm for this idea, I quickly realized I was out of my depth. I have no idea how to make vegetables grow, much less in the backwards weather of Central Texas — imagine my surprise when I learned that January is considered halfway through the growing season rather than, you know, the middle of winter.