Green with envy over green thumbs

We live in a little neighborhood that consists of three buidings, each with 4 townhouse units. It's a pretty idyllic spot for kids (9 of the 12 units are families with kids.) We have a playground, playing fields, a circle for bike and scooter riding, a giant woodchip pile that has provided hours of imaginative play, and a little neighborhood garden. On beautiful days like today, the kids roam around in a pack, while the moms sit outside and chat, occasionally reminding them to not eat chalk or walk in front of the swings. As our beautiful days have increased in frequency, our neighborhood gardeners have come out in force. The square of dirt that has looked depressing all winter, is starting to fill up now with tiny starter plants. I'll tell you straight up, I am no gardener. I have tremendous difficulty keeping any green thing alive. As much as I respect and admire those that do, I just don't seem to have what it takes. I've only had one pseudo-success in the garden in my entire life. I made a bold attempt with a few tomato plants last year. I kept them potted, but worked throughout the summer to nurture them along. Then, just as those green tomatoes that I had been tending so carefully began to show their first tints of orange, we sublet our townhouse for a month, and went to Utah. Our lovely tenants literally enjoyed all the fruits of my labor. This year, as much as I am itching to try again, I have to restrain myself. I can't keep an indoor plant alive for more than a few weeks. Somehow, I don't think my tomato plants would survive a cross-country move in the middle of June. Alas, I must wait for next year. Maybe then, I'll be brave enough to actually plant them in the ground.