For thirty-something years, I lived under the incorrect assumption that I didn’t have a green thumb. Growing up, my experience of gardening had been limited to pulling weeds. So, in my young-adult life, I never bothered with a garden because for me all it represented was hard work for little return. Because weeds always grew back. I believed the lie that I was no good at gardening. I firmly believed I would kill every plant I touched, so it was best for everyone involved if I didn’t even try. What changed this for me was when my husband collected fruit trees from a family friend’s deceased estate. Everything had to…