May 2025
Every season, I like to try at least one thing I haven’t grown before. Sometimes it’s a flop, sometimes it’s magic—but either way, I learn something.
For a few years I have thought that it would be so cool to grow artichokes. I’d always assumed they wouldn’t grow well here. I live in the desert. It’s too hot and too dry in the summer.
One day last Spring I was talking with my wife about what we would like to grow in our garden. I mentioned my wish and assumption. She stopped me right away saying that she saw some artichokes growing in a garden in my neighborhood just a few days before!!!! That totally surprised me. I started researching immediately!!!
We drove by later that day, of course on our way to the nursery, again 🙂 She pointed them out to me.
There they were, those quirky little giant eatable flower buds, standing tall at the top of a thick stalklike stem surrounded by leaves that reminded me of prehistoric times.
The large plants seemed to be in a simple raised bed. It didn’t look like anything special, no bells or whistles. Just a wooden border with chicken wire around it and some big concrete blocks, you know the ones… I can’t remember what they are called… but anyway,… That gave me so much confidence that I could actually grow artichokes!
We arrived at the nursery and just as we walked in I saw her! Sitting there on the shelf with all the other plant starts, trying to blend in. But she didn’t blend in to me, she stole the show! I knew it was fate, she had to be mine!
Now, I knew that artichokes don’t bloom in their first year. They focus on building roots. Artichokes send out a long, thick taproot then from there stretch out deep into the soil. These roots then create an expansive system to help them access moisture deep underground and anchor the large, top-heavy plant. That’s why they need plenty of space and loose, well-draining soil to really thrive. They say like 5–6 square feet.
The first year is all about establishing that underground foundation—setting the stage for future blooms.
I kept mine in a pot that first year, through the heat of summer and into winter. She grew, even put out some new pups! But that pot was not ideal. I knew they weren’t growing as big as they could have. They needed space and depth to thrive. But I hadn’t totally decided where I wanted to plant them.
A couple of years ago when I did the decomposed granite landscaping in my yard, I’d carved out a corner section that I edged with curved bricks (the previous owner left them and they’d been sitting around for years). I didn’t know what it would be for at the time, I hadn’t even completed it, but I had a hunch it would grow into something special.
This past fall it finally clicked—this would be the artichoke’s forever bed. It would be perfect!!
Well, there was still work to do. The area was not fully enclosed. The back sides were just chain link fence, leaving two sides open and unable to hold soil as a raised bed like I’d planned.
Finally in March I got serious about getting the artichoke plant out of that cramped pot and into its roomy new ground. But I didn’t want to spend over \$35 on a single board, and still need to spend more on other things to make it work. So I started looking for a creative solution. Something that wasn’t going to cost much, preferably free.
I started telling myself I was going to find it, envisioning it, and knowing it was going to be free…
A few days later as I’m pulling into my driveway, I spotted something at the abandoned yard across the road… it looked like a big pot, and I’m always looking for free big pots, buckets and containers!
Not what I thought it was, however…
I found a big part of a broken metal awning that had been ripped off by the wind. Since I had been in search of a creative solution, I knew this would be perfect, this was what I had been looking for. It was almost like it had been delivered straight to me by the universe. A little wild, a little unexpected, but exactly what I needed.
After prancing home and telling my wife about it (and convincing her it isn’t stealing if they will be throwing it in the trash anyway—I was saving them the trouble), I went back, picked up the ripped metal and brought it over to my driveway. I cut it to size, bent it into shape, and tucked it into the corner. It fit perfectly. A free, scrappy solution. My favorite kind! There’s something deeply satisfying about using what’s on hand, turning forgotten or discarded pieces into something purposeful. It feels like alchemy, like coaxing magic out of the overlooked. It reminds me that creativity doesn’t need to be fancy, just resourceful and open to the unexpected.
I showed a few people a picture of it and asked them what they thought I used… most of them said crown molding!
It took a few more weeks before my son-in-law was able to help me pick up more soil from the rock and landscape place nearby. I like to use their potting mix (some places are better than others) because I can get a whole tractor scoop for $23–$35! The soil was the only part of that project that cost anything, aside from the cost of the artichoke start a year ago.
So the first week of April, we gave that Dino her new forever home. When I pulled her out of her pot, she was so root bound! Her thick roots circled and weaved tightly around the perimeter, pressing against the edges of the container.
It was like she’d hit her limit—no more room to stretch, no more space to breathe.
I had to gently tease them apart before planting, loosening them just enough to encourage her to dig in and explore her new space.
It reminded me how growth doesn’t stop just because there’s no space left—it adapts, bends, wraps around—but that kind of growth can only last so long before it needs release.
At that point, I wasn’t expecting flowers this year. I figured it had gone in too late. It wouldn’t usually have been too late, but this year the heat was coming in fast.
Well, my plants often pleasantly surprise me. One day I was out tending to the garden and totally unexpectedly I saw it, there tucked in the middle of those jagged leaves, a sweet little artichoke bud!!
I watched it grow, those scales slowly enlarging. Then I noticed it seemed to be loosening, I could see a circle-like opening in the middle. This indicated to me that it was time! If I waited any longer it would have began to fully open, taking it past its eatable prime.
Last week I harvested my first artichoke!!! It’s small, about the size of my fist, but I am so proud. At least three more are growing on the plant still, and I can’t wait to see how many I actually end up with. I’ll definitely let a couple go to flower, because have you seen a blooming artichoke? It’s like a thistle met a firework and said yes!
Some things don’t bloom right away. They need time underground—space, patience, and a little creative scrappiness.
That first year in a pot may not have been ideal for her, but it was a start. It gave her what she needed for the time being. And eventually, I made room for deeper roots. Turns out, that’s when the real growth began.
When the roots were finally given space to stretch, the bud appeared faster than I ever expected. I thought I’d have to wait another whole year. Sometimes life just makes a way—not because we rushed it, but because we finally gave it the right conditions. With space to stretch and a little support, readiness can bloom sooner than we’d imagined.
I’ve noticed this in more ways than one lately—but more on that soon.
What’s something in your life that might be waiting for the right space to take root?
Mandy, Wild & Free 