I was planning leisurely hours spent tending to my garden, and meals filled with fresh vegetables and herbs, cut straight from the source.

And in a world where broccoli is $7.98 a kilo at the supermarket, I was mentally calculating the thousands of dollars I was going to save in food bills.

Being about as familiar with Bunnings as I am with advanced mechatronics, I enlisted my green thumb friend to guide me through the process.

Together, we filled my car with seedlings, pots, fertiliser and some other bits and pieces I’m still not entirely familiar with. I even bought gardening gloves.

Back at the verandah, I got a crash course in how to plant a seedling. I whipped around the balcony, planting everything that was going to nourish me from here on in. My friend followed closely behind, re-planting everything I’d touched.

The first week with my new garden was great, and I was sure to water everything. But given I tend to lack patience, I found waiting for everything to grow less fun than I’d imagined.

A few days later I overheard a person talking about tomato bushes.

“They grow so quickly – they just completely take over your garden,” she said.

I knew I had found my perfect plant.

I found some tomato seeds and planted them, and sure enough only a few days later, my tomato plants started to grow. Not that many days later, I had my first tiny green sprout of a tomato growing. I couldn’t have been prouder.

I invited my downstairs neighbour, who has a flourishing courtyard garden even in the depths of winter, up to see my efforts, pretty proud of my work.

“Why did you plant tomatoes?” she asked, quizzically.

“Because I like tomatoes,” I replied.

A few days later I sent a photo to another friend.

“It looks great. Why did you plant tomatoes now though?”

I was sensing a theme.

As a former Queenslander, it’s fair to say I often underestimate the winter down here – and if I knew nothing about gardening, I knew even less about the effect frost can have on things.

Apparently, tomatoes are something you plant in spring, so they can thrive during the warmer months. The coming weeks taught me that most of my other plants felt the same way.

After five months, my garden has produced three cherry tomatoes, two mini capsicums – often mistaken for cherry tomatoes, about five baby spinach leaves, plus a few handfuls of rosemary and basil. It’s safe to say I have made plenty of trips to the supermarket fruit and vege section.

But the warmer months are coming. And I know exactly when to plant my tomatoes this time. Fully-sustainable garden, here I come.