Last year at this time, I had fond dreams of growing sweet peas that would climb up the railings of my front porch and fill the air with sweet scents. I would have a chair on the porch, of course, and sit there with a cup of hot lemon tea on warm spring mornings. Everything would be perfect.*

In reality, my attempts to grow sweet peas crashed and burned. I direct sowed the seeds, and most of them rotted in the ground. Two plants that had been sown in a particularly clay-y part of the front bed struggled up, only to be baked into submission by the summer sun, hot on the heels of the spring rains. They grew to a combined total of 10 inches long, and one of them used a dying gasp of energy to produce one small flower that smelled like — nothing.

This was sad. So sad. Such sadness requires that I try again. This time, I will plant the peas in a container to the side of the porch, so they have more drainage. I may even start them indoors, so as to give them maximum stayin’ alive potential. (John Travolta sold separately.) I will also consult our book on sweet peas, which has a section on “Raising Sweet Peas From Seed.” Useful stuff. Among other things, it tells me that “sowing in pots is better than sowing in the open ground.” Why didn’t I refer to this book last year? (See “perfection”, below.)

Now I just have to decide what kind of sweet pea to try. I quite like the idea of growing the “Quito” variety of sweet pea, having spent a good deal of my childhood in Ecuador. Apparently Ecuador is potentially where the sweet pea originated. Huh! I couldn’t find a picture, though. I’ll probably just go to my local garden store and see what they’ve got on the shelves. Then next year, if I am successful, I might try some other varieties. Do you have any favorites?

I hope that, come May, I’ll be sitting on my porch, wafted by the scent of sweet peas, sipping my lemon tea. It will be perfect.

*That whole “perfection” thing has never worked out for me.