For my entire life, I have been surrounded by garden and farms. My Great-Grandfather was a farmer for many years. (Though, that counts only working. He truly was a farmer all his life.) Both his parents were farmers, and those before them. It was inevitable that I too seek out the soil.
Being bookish I did not truly find interest in gardening until the doom and gloom of modern academia stretched out its cold, dying hands. It was an escape, to be perfectly honest. But one most needed. The refreshment of clear mind was delightful. That I was paid for it was secondary. The mental benefit is tremendous. I really do recommend that if gardening “isn’t for you” or that you “kill everything” give it another try, have patience, and enjoy nature.
Now I must say I have been wholly infected with a green thumb. This year I planted one dozen potatoes (red, yellow, and purple) as well as a few second year kale (trying to get seeds). On top of that I germinated 150 cantaloupe seeds, and planted out 89 to get established. I don’t want to admit it, but I really only have room for about four plants. The excitement of seeing so many superceded my rational thoughts. However, the sheer number of plants allowed me to notice slight differences in the plants that I otherwise would not notice. I hope then that the plants to make it are the best they can be.