It's that time of year again and it doesn't even involve self-tanning lotions as you try to hide those glaring, white legs in shorts.

Rather, we're in the midst of gardening season.

The time when a person looks out on the freshly up-turned soil with optimism.

The time when every last weed has been plowed under or pulled up.

The time when a person is just sure that this year is going to be different: All of the seeds are going to bloom. All the plants are going to live. And all the weeds will remain non-existent or least shorter than the plants.

That can-do attitude remains intact ... until that row of carrot seeds never emerges, that acorn squash plant withers and dies or you give up the fight and hope that you don't get lost in the weeds in a search for a lone tomato.

Every year, I begin the gardening season with the best of intentions and this year is no different except that I have actually taken several positive steps in the hopes of growing a prosperous garden.

For example, I am keeping a map of my garden. The maps notes what each mound of seeds is supposed to produce, which pepper plant in flaming hot and which pepper plant is only burning hot, which plant is a spinach leaf and which plant is mesculin.

The map is supposed to serve several purposes, most importantly to help me remember what's in the ground. I've given up trying to remember what is in the fourth row from the left since I can't remember what I had for lunch.

The little markers which accompany the plants last about five minutes in my garden before little children walk through pulling them out for a closer look. With those labels gone, it's a crap shoot whether you are grabbing a Slim Jim pepper or a Red Finger. (With peppers, this is vital information to have.)

My kids aren't the only ones to blame for disappearing plants and their signs. The rabbits had already made their mark in my garden, approximately 5 hours after the first plant was in the ground.

The map is also meant to help me remember next year what didn't work this year. In theory, I will mark down when each plant should be thinned, when it should be harvested, when it didn't come up. I'll get back to you on that one.

But I'm also trying some new techniques this year:

* Remember, your eyes are bigger than your tolerance of pain in your back and knees.

Yes, it is easy to go overboard at the nursery, buying six of every vegetable, one of every seed packet. It's not until you get home and have to kneel down to plant all 64 little plants and bend over to hoe 32 rows that you realize that maybe, just maybe, you bought too much.

I've learned to buy my number of plants in small quantities. While this re-quires more trips to the nursery, I have learned how many plants I can plant (and how much patience I have) in a day. My plants are already going to wither on me later. I don't need to speed up the process by letting them sit around for three days waiting on me.

Plus, the frequent smaller trips mean you don't realize how much you've blown on your attempt at a garden.

Which leads me to...

* Get over the fact that you'll spend more money and time on your garden than what could have been bought at the grocery store.

It's easy to spend a small fortune on supplies for the garden. Include the amount of time spent planting, weeding and watering and you would likely be able to buy the entire produce section at the grocery store for less money.

But where's the fun in that?

You wouldn't have the satisfaction of walking out your back door and retrieving a fresh-from-the-vine tomato. You wouldn't have the pleasure of  having something live that you've killed the past three seasons. You wouldn't have the excuse of playing the dirt for hours on end.

* And finally, space the plantings throughout the summer for a longer growing season, at least in theory.

If you spread out the planting over several weeks, or even months, the harvest will also be spread out, giving you more time to enjoy your product.

I'm going to try this concept of several plantings, especially with my lettuce, so I'm not feeling like Bugs Bunny for a few weeks and then lettuce-less a few weeks later.

At least, I'm contemplating this practice. Only time will tell if I return to the garden to plant another row or search through my weeks for that lone tomato.

-- Ronda Graff is hoping for a successful gardening season... at least until the harvest is here and she must spend hours on end in the kitchen freezing and canning everything.