I love my gardens. I don’t plant veggies (a few tomatoes each year is all), but I love the masses of flowers and herbs that grow around my gardens. Watching the shoots come up in the Spring and the flower buds emerge as a variety of colors: well, I just love that! Inviting people over and basking in the oohs and aahs as I humbly bow my head and mutter “oh, it’s nothing” — who doesn’t love that?! The changing of leaves in the Fall with, once again, a riotous display of colors and fragrances: again, I’m enchanted. However, I’m definitely not a summer gardener. There! I’ve said it out loud.
I do not enjoy deadheading so, when my dianthus and daisies start to droop I tend to just look in another direction. Shrubs getting a little out of bounds? Just take another path and maybe someone will correct that for me. Containers that were gorgeous and held so much promise in June look a little woebegone in a July drought. To ease the boredom of the continual watering that needs to be done, I find myself playing with the different settings on my sprinkler and seeing which ones I can dodge most effectively. My garden journal, which I carefully divided into categories in the Spring, still holds a lot of sparklingly clean pages. [Fortunately, I have been recording everything via photographs throughout the summer so I have something to fall back on next year when I start out like a house-afire with my planning in February and March.]
When I go on vacation, I’m always thrilled to walk through carefully manicured pathways on either side of which are mounds of gorgeous blooms of every color, size, and fragrance. With my trusty camera in hand, I record things that “I’m definitely going to incorporate in my gardens”. Yes, I admit it — that pretty much never happens. This ‘road paved with good intentions’ is a pretty common thing in our household. Last weekend, my husband and I were at a large arts & craft fair and I saw some lovely cat tails made of copper pipes. My husband said “Oh I can make those for you”. After 33 years, I’ve learned the difference between “can” and “will”. We agreed that he’d probably get around to making them while I was out deadheading my garden. In other words, I bought them on the spot!
Written by Vicki