There are some lessons you only learn by doing.
This is one of those stories.
Earlier this year, I decided I was going to host my very first plant sale.
Now…..to be clear, I’ve never had a plant sale before. Every year I start way more seedlings than I need and I usually end up giving the extras away to friends, family, coworkers, and neighbors.
But this year I had a much bigger idea.
Somewhere along the way, I convinced myself I was going to make $5,000 selling garden starts.
Yes…
Now that I say it out loud, it sounds a little ridiculous.
But hear me out.
At the time, it made perfect sense.
Why I Thought It Would Work
I’ve been working hard to pay off debt, including my she shed, and I’ve been looking for ways to earn extra income.
Then it hit me.
I already grow hundreds of plants every spring.
I already own a greenhouse.
I already have grow lights.
I already know how to start seeds.
How hard could it really be?
I wasn’t just planning to sell individual plants either.
The real money maker, at least in my head, was going to be garden kits.
- Beginner garden kits
- Salsa garden kits
- Ultimate garden kits
People could simply choose a box, I’d fill it, and they’d leave with an entire garden.
It sounded like a win for everyone.
I carefully planned different seed-starting dates, chose varieties that weren’t common in my area, estimated losses from poor germination, and planted extra just in case.
I truly believed I had thought of everything.
Then the Plants Took Over My Life
Apparently…
I’m pretty good at starting seeds.
So good, in fact, that I ended up with well over a thousand healthy plants.
At first everything fit neatly inside my greenhouse.
Then the greenhouse filled.
So I reorganized.
Then I started up-potting everything.
Soon my barn became overflow storage.
Every shelf.
Every table.
The floor.
Every inch of space was covered in plants.
I wasn’t upset about it, though.
Honestly, I felt proud.
I had grown an incredible amount of healthy plants, and I couldn’t wait to sell them.
I Started Building Excitement
I began posting on Facebook, sharing photos of my plants and talking about my upcoming sale.
I wasn’t necessarily trying to sell people immediately.
I just wanted to plant the idea.
Maybe when it came time to buy tomatoes or peppers, they’d remember me.
Some people even reached out ahead of time saying they planned to come.
Everything seemed to be going according to plan.
Then Reality Showed Up
First…
My tomatoes.
I had started my first batch way too early.
Then our weather became completely unpredictable.
Warm one week.
Freezing the next.
Several major windstorms rolled through while I was at work.
One storm literally snapped dozens of plants in half.
Just like that…
I lost around 50 tomato plants.
I reminded myself that was exactly why I’d planted extras.
Everything would still be okay.
Or so I thought.
The Overwhelm Started
As the weeks went on, more plants needed larger pots.
Larger pots meant fewer plants fit in each tray.
Fewer trays fit on my shelves.
Every day became a juggling act.
Morning.
Lunch break.
After work.
Watering.
Moving trays.
Checking temperatures.
Hardening plants off.
Bringing them back inside.
Doing it all over again.
At the same time, I kept advertising the sale.
And almost nobody was engaging with my posts.
Then I made the mistake so many of us make.
I started comparing myself.
I saw other people selling plants.
Some charged less.
Some charged more.
Some had established businesses.
Some I’d never even heard of.
And suddenly I started questioning everything.
Was I charging too much?
Did people even know who I was?
Was the idea bad?
Was I wasting months of my life?
I Had to Make a Change
After months of caring for over a thousand plants, I realized something.
I needed my space back.
I started taking boxes of peppers to work.
I donated a bunch to our local food bank.
Not because I had given up…
But because I needed to make it manageable again.
Funny enough, even after donating so many plants, I still had enough to make all of my garden kits.
Plant Sale Weekend
Then the weekend finally arrived.
I put signs out.
I advertised online.
I waited.
And….No one came.
The second day…
Two people showed up.
Two.
I remember looking around at hundreds and hundreds of plants.
Months of work.
Months of planning.
Months of watering.
Transplanting.
Moving trays.
Buying supplies.
Watching temperatures.
Hardening plants off.
Advertising.
And two people came!
I was embarrassed.
I felt defeated.
I felt stupid.
I started asking myself every question imaginable.
Maybe I didn’t advertise enough.
Maybe my prices were wrong.
Maybe people didn’t want what I was selling.
Maybe nobody knew I existed.
The hardest part wasn’t caring for the plants.
It wasn’t the watering.
Or transplanting.
Or hauling trays in and out every day.
The hardest part was believing I’d failed.
Because this wasn’t just a weekend project.
This represented months of work.
Months of imagining a completely different outcome.
When reality looked nothing like the picture I’d built in my head…
I took it personally, I started questioning everything around me.
“Would it be a waste of time?”
“Is it even going to work?”
I had completely lost my confidence.
The Final Decision
I held another sale the following weekend.
A few more people came.
Some bought replacement plants after losing theirs to the weather.
Some loved the garden kits.
But I still had hundreds of plants left.
At that point my own garden was completely planted.
I didn’t want to spend another month taking care of plants meant for everyone else.
I wanted my freedom back.
So I made a decision.
I gave the rest away for free.
And here’s the funny part…
Within hours, they were gone.
Dozens of people came to my house.
Families were excited.
People were genuinely grateful.
The vision I’d imagined actually happened.
It just didn’t happen the way I expected.
So… How Much Did I Actually Make?
Remember my goal?
Five thousand dollars.
My actual total?
$537.
At least I got the five right.
Was It a Failure?
Honestly…
I don’t think so anymore.
Would I do another giant plant sale?
Right now?
Probably not.
I work full-time, I have a homestead, animals, my own garden, kids, dinner plans….Responsibilities.
Trying to manage over a thousand plants on top of all of that simply wasn’t sustainable.
Maybe someday, when life looks different, I’ll try again.
But next time I won’t attach some giant number goal to it.
I’ll do it because I genuinely enjoy growing plants.
What This Experience Taught Me
Looking back, I actually learned a lot.
Just because I’m good at growing plants doesn’t mean I need to grow a thousand of them.
Timing matters.
Marketing matters.
Convenience matters.
The economy matters.
Having an established customer base matters.
But maybe the biggest lesson was this:
I helped dozens of families grow food this year.
Some picked up plants from the food bank.
Others came to my house.
Whether they paid for them or not, those gardens still exist because I grew those plants.
That’s something I’m proud of.
Sometimes the Lesson Is Worth More Than the Outcome
If you’ve followed me for a while, you’ve probably heard me talk about building systems that fit your life.
Starting small.
Avoiding overwhelm.
Not comparing yourself to other people.
Funny enough…
I did the exact opposite with this project.
I got ahead of myself.
I took on too much.
I planned the outcome before I gave real life a chance to weigh in.
And maybe that’s the biggest lesson of all.
No matter where you are in your journey, you’re still going to be humbled sometimes.
You’re still going to have ideas that don’t work out the way you imagined.
You’re still going to have seasons where your plans completely fall apart.
No amount of experience or education will protect you from that.
But that doesn’t mean you stop trying.
It doesn’t mean the idea was stupid.
And it definitely doesn’t mean the effort was wasted.
Sometimes you simply have to do the thing, learn the lesson, and do it a little better the next time.
So if you’re sitting on an idea that’s intimidating you…
Or you’re beating yourself up because something didn’t work…
Give yourself a little grace.
Even people with experience get it wrong sometimes.
And that’s okay.
Because every failure leaves you with something valuable if you’re willing to learn from it.









