Two bean effort

I tried to cheat, I think.

Or maybe I got bamboozled. I’m not sure.

The end of April 2023, an ad on social media caught my eye. And oh man,  I am sucker for online ads—the latest version of infomercials. A bit embarrassing to admit, but I have purchased a great many things this way. Pilates DVDS, all kinds of workout programs, a headband that works like sunglasses (it really hurts my head, btw!), a fantastic hairbrush, a mini golf putting green, and more. Some things have been awesome, and others…have not.

So last year the ad that caught my eye was for seedsheets. Have you heard of these? Gardening made simple. Yes! I have dabbled in gardening a bit, and it is never very successful, or simple. This was the solution!

I’m not sure I’ve ever pressed the purchase button so quickly. I designed my garden with all my favorite vegetables and herbs. The seeds come in little pods nestled in weed-preventing fabric. You just lay them on top of the dirt , water, and wait for the harvest.

Perfect!

Or not.

First of all, it took 6 weeks to get my order, so planting season had passed and we were already heavy into the heat of a Texas summer.  I was disappointed, but read that they guarantee their seeds for TWO years! TWO! Hallelujah. I was saved.

When spring arrived this year, I was ready. I had my two raised beds filled with dirt. I took the seedsheets out,  laid them on top of the soil, anchored them down, and watered.

The plastic bubbles that held the seeds were supposed to dissolve right into the dirt as you watered.

Um…they didn’t do that. At all.

The water did break down the plastic, but those seeds did not melt into the dirt. They rose with the water and spread every which way, some settling into the corners of the garden bed, some finding place on top of the weed barrier.  I did my best to place the wandering seeds in their proper hole of dirt. I watered according to the directions.

I waited.

After a week, a few sprouts were growing! I couldn’t believe this was going to work! A few more days passed, and my excitement faded. In actuality, very few of the seeds were sprouting.

Not wanting to admit defeat, I kept watering diligently for about two weeks. Then we got a whole lot of rain, so I let nature take over. When it was hot and sunny, I asked my kids to water the garden.

Disappointed with my pathetic garden, I ignored the beds altogether.

Sigh.

A week ago, I decided to check on the three plants that actually grew. As I walked outside, I saw something hanging from one of the plants. Beans! I had two beans!

TWO beans. Only two?

At first, I was thrilled. Then I laughed at the absurdity of spending so much money for two beans. My thoughts then went to the effort I had put in.

Truly, I gardened with a two-bean effort. I tried to get a bountiful garden the easy way, and it just didn’t appear the way I thought it would—the way the pictures in that dumb ad promised.

A two-bean effort.

Are there things in your life that you are giving a two-bean effort? Are you expecting a plentiful harvest from such minimal effort?

My dad often told me that when things sound too good to be true, they usually are. How right he was. Two bean efforts lead to…well, two beans.

My gardening experiment was a great reminder that if I want big results, big effort is required. There is no way around that, even if an ad says differently.

Don’t settle for two beans.