I took a hike in an undisclosed location last weekend. It was a typical Northwest native forest. But, it had some rather unusual plants growing in it. And for that reason I'm keeping its location a secret.

In short order I found three odd native plants. The first was a variegated blackberry. It looked rather ill - many variegated plants die a quick death in the wild because their white and pale foliage can't compete with their chlorophyll-stoked brethren. I'm sorry I don't have a picture of it...there were only a few leaves left. But, they were white mixed with grey-green.

The other plants...I'm not so sure if they were truly variegated or just lacking in something. The first one was (I think) a salmonberry. It looked healthy and growing well but its leaves were white with green ribs. Very odd looking.

The third, and most bizarre, was a trillium with purple foliage that was so dark it looked black. Now, I know what you are thinking: the thing was dead. But, trilliums don't turn black when they die and this thing, while past its prime, was still healthy with a shiny metallic-purple sheen under its leaves. In addition its stem was a medium purple and was thick and healthy.

A google search turned up nothing referring to a black trillium other than some sort of fictional book series. So, what do you all think? Did I find true freaks of nature or just some sick and dying plants? And yes, I left them in place.

Being The News Tribune's Arts & Entertainment editor there's a certain expectation that I will entertain my friends and family with a decidedly alternative garden.

I hate to disappoint.

Thus: "Freak of Nature" - the name I've given my (at the moment imaginary) garden. There will be nothing ordinary about it. If it's unusual, oddly colored or just plain weird I'll grow it.

So far the only work I've done is to order seeds from Burpee and the Territorial Seed Company. My co-worker (and gardener par excellence) Dean Koepfler has promised me some unused lumber which I'll use to start a raised bed in my backyard.

I'll keep you posted on all germination tragedies, wacky Roundup/Miracle-Gro mix ups, mole attacks, and general incompetence.

I'll be mighty surprised if I have even a decent amount of success. I just might have to change its name to "Miracle Garden."

Here's what I'm planning:
Edamame beans
Shiso (Japanese herb)
Purple broccoli
Purple carrot
Ornamental corn
Lemon cucumbers
Purple kale
Red lettuce
Arugula
Blue potatoes
Daikon (Japanese radish)
Red sunflowers
Red/orange striped tomatoes (and will look for green/white as well)
Black cherry tomatoes
Green zinnias
Red marigolds
Baby bok choy (Asian cabbage)
Blue Himalayan poppies (photo above)

Seed catalogs, fancy gardening magazines and glossy pictures of experimental plants clutter my desk at The News Tribune.

Think of me as “the clearinghouse.” Because of my title – Home & Garden editor –all kinds of people send me all kinds of garden propaganda. I could spend all day reading this stuff.

It’s far too much information to publish in our Saturday Home & Garden section, but will be perfect for a gardening blog. My intention here is to pass along useful gardening information to you – from my messy desk straight to your computer screen.

When I left you all last year, I had just found out I'd be moving into a rented house with some space in the back to garden. I can't believe four months has passed since then, but I'm glad it has: To say I'm excited that daylight savings is this weekend and we'll be able to walk Harriet the pug in the daylight after work is an understatement.

We is me, Joseph and, of course, Harriet the Pug. We enjoy eating vegetables and reading about sustainability and organic farming. But ... reading and doing are two different things. Joseph has never gardened before, which means I, with my one year of (in)experience, am the senior gardener. That leads to conversations like:

J: So like what kind of stuff do we have to do for upkeep?
N: Water, compost tea and lots of weeding.
J: Does that mean we can get a blow torch?
N: What? Why?
J: To burn the weeds. Isn't that the only way to really kill them?
N: We are not getting a blow torch.
Five minutes later, conversation had devolved to aeration via grenades.

As you can see, we may need a little help.

We've decided to try a modified version of Square Foot Gardening. So far, we've put up a little plastic fence to keep our veggies pug poop free, planted lettuce and spinach and started all sorts of things in a seed tray indoors.

This weekend, we're going to plant peas, carrots and maybe some feel-good turnips. I don't particularly like turnips, but I do like that anyone can grow them -- and we need all the help we can get!

I am a pretty good gardener. No really. My neighbors who look at my yard with its morning glories winding around a badly pruned laurel tree might disagree. But at my last house I had a beautiful rose garden, pond blooming with water lilies and a vegetable garden that yielded enough tomatoes and carrots to feed a small town.

Then I had kids. Two wonderful kids. And I surrendered almost all of my free time to hanging out with them. For the past few seasons, I grew assorted vegetables in the backyard , and I planted a few perennials and annuals.

But this year, I plan to focus some of that family time on the garden.

Together, we will start seeds, cultivate vegetables, pull weeds and fend off slugs.

We have a small space with two raised beds and several large pots. Much more is coming. And to all you neighbors out there - stay tuned.