If at first you don’t succeed, plant and plant again.

And again and again.

At some point in this cycle, one must decide whether it’s worth it when the last lifeless twig is yanked out of the ground.

I’ve had some practice at this, pouring dreams, manure and money – not to mention sacrificial plants – into the earth.

Considering the number of lifeless twigs littering my past, I would be afraid to see me coming if I were a fruit plant.

I’ve tried for years to grow fruits, any kind of fruit. I would say my success has been marginal.

That only means not everything has died.

Take the Concord grape. Once, there were two. Only one survived, and for years, it did little but grow a bit larger each summer.

I doubt I watered when I should have. I doubt I fertilized properly. I know I didn’t prune it because I was terrified I’d end up chopping off all of its living shoots.

It lived in spite of me, and now, without any help from me, it sets clusters of fruit every year.

Then there are the apple trees.

I didn’t plant them.

Enough said.

Strawberry plants? Let’s just say I have to drive to pick them if I want more than two on my breakfast cereal.

I once had a vision of a rhubarb patch. You know rhubarb: giant, primeval-looking thing that you can’t kill.

Well, maybe you can’t.

I did – over and over. Two years ago, I got a massive root piece from a friend, and it looks like I may have a rhubarb patch. Finally.

Learning from mistakes can take time, years if you are a gardener. Conditions change from minute to minute. Last May is no predictor of this May. Recognizing patterns may be an exercise in futility.

Once I realized this, I decided to plant and plant again, for who knows when something will take?

In a fit of optimism last month, I ordered from Gardener’s Supply Co. (www.gardeners.com, 1-800-427-3363) in Vermont some fruit bushes that I had been drooling over for a few years.

Both are popular in Siberia.

Yeah, you can see where I’m going with this.

Chances are if it can survive Siberia, it can survive me.

One of the varieties is honeyberry, a member of the honeysuckle family. Lonicera kamchatika will produce the earliest fruit, at least two weeks before strawberries are ready. The berries is blueberrylike and can be eaten fresh or used for jam.

On the cultivation front, it is extremely hardy, withstanding temperatures minus 40 degrees and below. In more southern climes, it needs at least a half-day of shade to thrive, although in Maine it sounds like full sun would be OK and a bit of shade wouldn’t harm it either.

Two varieties are needed for cross-pollination, so I purchased a pair, ‘Berry Blue’ and ‘Blue Belle.’ ‘Berry Blue’ has an upright growth habit and can reach 6 to 8 feet. ‘Blue Belle’ is more of a spreader and will grow only 3 to 5 feet tall.

Honeyberry’s only other requirements are well-drained soil and some compost or manure every year.

My other find is a plant that “is prized for its ability to produce crops in the most inhospitable areas.”

Welcome to my yard, seaberry.

For years, I’d seen this plant listed in the catalog from One Green World, which touted its value in every arena: its striking appearance, noteworthy fruit, cold hardiness and ability to improve poor soils by fixing nitrogen.

Seaberry, or Hippophae rhamnoides, is a gray-green bush that produces clusters of yellow-orange berries in September and October. The fruit is high in vitamins A, C and E, and its flavor is described as tasting like a tart orange juice.

The berries can be used for juice and jelly.

Its cultivation requirements are even fewer than honeyberry. It prefers dry, poor soil and is salt- and drought-tolerant. Seaberry can even grow on ocean dunes. It also requires a male and a female for fruit production and will grow to about 10 feet tall unless pruned regularly.

When I was looking up information on seaberry, I discovered it had another name: sea buckthorn. That’s when I discovered a plethora of medicinal uses of H. rhamnoides, usually in Russian and Chinese medicine, including treatment for stomach ulcers, burns, cataracts and eczema. It also is used in cosmetics and veterinary applications.

I’ll be happy with a few jars of jelly.

Since I was feeling such enthusiasm about my new Siberia-Janine-(we-hope)-tolerant fruit, I decided to try some old standbys again.

Yes, again.

Last weekend, I put in two raspberry canes and two highbush blueberries.

No mail order on these pairs this time. I purchased locally from Everlasting Farm in Bangor where I was tempted by more than the berry bushes (look, it’s a kiwi).

Who knows? This may be the year my dreams come to fruition.

Janine Pineo is a NEWS copy desk editor and systems editor. Her e-mail is jpineo@bangordailynews.net.