What I'm Actually Planting This Year 

(And What I Finally Gave Up On)

There is something incredibly freeing about deciding, out loud, that you are done trying to grow something that has never once worked out for you.

I used to feel like giving up on a crop was a failure. Like a real homesteader would figure it out, would amend the soil one more time, would try a different variety, would read one more book. Now I think of it differently. My time and energy are finite. The garden should work for me, not just wear me down. And some things are genuinely not worth the trouble on this particular piece of land with this particular setup.

So here's the honest version of what this year's garden looks like — what's staying, what's new, and what's finally, blessedly off the list.

What's Staying (The Reliable Core)

These are the crops that earn their keep year after year on our ¾ acre in Zone 6b. No drama. Just consistent production.

• Peas — go in early, produce fast, freeze beautifully, the flock loves the vines at the end of the season. Every year, always peas.

• Beans — reliable, nutrient-dense, easy to dry for winter storage, and flock protein. Low-effort, high-return.

• Lettuce and greens — spring and fall successions. Quick, useful, and anything that bolts feeds the birds.

• Garlic — went in last fall, coming up now. Does its thing with basically no attention. We preserve it by braiding and by dehydrating it for garlic powder.

• Onions — from sets. Again, very little fuss for something we use constantly. Dehydrate the excess.

• Tomatoes — we stick to 3–4 proven varieties. A reliable slicer, a paste tomato for preserving, and one cherry tomato because they're foolproof. That's it.

• Potatoes — in-ground, hilled up as they grow. Starch staple for the family, easy to store in the root cellar.

• Broccoli and cauliflower — transplanted early, harvested before the heat. Freeze well. Worth the real estate.

• Herbs — perennial herbs (chives, oregano, thyme) are already up. Annual herbs (basil, dill, parsley) start from seed or transplant. Dehydrate everything in bulk.

What's New This Year

We're giving more intentional space to sunflowers this year — a whole fence row — specifically for flock feed. We've also blocked out a bed for dried beans with the explicit purpose of winter flock supplementation, not just table food. That dual-purpose thinking is shaping how we plan more deliberately.

Also trying carrots in the raised beds instead of in-ground this year. Our clay soil gives us sad, stubby carrots. Raised bed with looser soil might finally change that. We'll see.

What I Gave Up On (Finally, Peacefully)

Things That Are Off My List and I Have Made Peace With This

• Corn — we don't have the space to grow enough of it for it to matter. Corn needs a big block to pollinate properly. Our ¾ acre is spoken for. Not worth it.

• Melons — Zone 6b is marginal for melons. I've tried. They set fruit so late that we barely get ripe ones before frost. The space is better used for something that actually produces.

• Asparagus — takes three years before real harvest. I kept meaning to plant it and never did at the right time. This is no longer on my "someday" list. Someday has officially passed.

• Sweet peppers in volume — our season is just barely long enough, and they've always been our most finicky crop. We grow a few, but I'm done dedicating major bed space to them.

Standard Method: Garden Planning Season

Sketch your beds, assign your crops, make note of what you're preserving vs. eating fresh, and build in flock overflow intentionally. Look at last year's notes if you kept any, and let them inform where things go this season. Rotate your nightshades and brassicas to a different bed from last year.

🌿 Low-Energy Method

Plant what you know. If you've grown it before and it worked, grow it again. This is not the year to experiment with twelve new things. Pick one new crop to try — just one — and grow the rest from your known, reliable list. Stability is not boring. Stability is food in the freezer by October.

A Note on Preservation Before You Plant

One thing I always think about when planning the garden: what are we going to do with everything? If I grow 40 pounds of tomatoes and I don't have a plan for preserving them, I'll just be drowning in tomatoes and giving them away in a panic in August. I plan my garden backwards from preservation. What do we want in the freezer, in the dehydrator, in jars? How much of each crop does that take? That's how much I plant.

It changes everything about the way the garden feels. It's purposeful instead of just hopeful.

💬 Real Talk

Some of the crops I've given up on are things I still feel a little wistful about. I really wanted melons to work. I had romanticized sitting on the back porch, eating watermelon we grew ourselves. But gardening romanticism and Zone 6b reality don't always align, and at some point, the pragmatic homesteader in me has to win that argument.

Give yourself full permission to build a garden that works for your life, your land, and your energy levels — not the garden you think you're supposed to have.

Here's Where We're Landing This Season

A simpler, more intentional garden than I've had in years. Fewer experiments, more of what I know feeds us well. More overlap between what we eat and what the flock eats. More preservation thinking is built in from the start.

Less chasing. More harvesting.

That feels like the right direction.

That wraps up our spring series! If you caught all five posts — welcome to the season. You are more prepared than most. Now go get your hands dirty. 🌱