In the Beginning (or how I overcame Disappointments)
I'm sure my love for growing things comes from my mother although it didn't surface for many years. When I was a kid, my mother grew the tallest sunflowers I have ever seen. They were so tall, they peeked over the roof of our home. I carried huge bouquets of marigolds to my elementary school teachers. I remember eating strawberries and sweet peas right out of her garden when I was having way to much fun to go inside for lunch. She could grow anything, and grow it well. It came naturally to her.
I, on the other hand, had to learn everything... and I had to learn it the hard way. Actually the truth be told, I'm still learning it the hard way. But at least I can grow things now. More importantly perhaps, I understand the contentment that was on my mother's face when she was in her gardens. Later in her life, my mother lived an apartment building where she planted a small flower garden next the the entry door. She won the neighborhood's first prize one year. The huge gaudy ribbon that hung on the pillar to the apartment building was one of my mother's finest moments. I just didn't get it.
It wasn't until I had a home of my own that I became interested in gardening. How I managed to stay interested with all the failures I had those first years is a mystery to me. I still have failures pretty regularly but now I have set some perimeters to keep the feeling of failure at bay. I also appreciate my successes!
I don't plant without looking up the growing
characteristics of a plant. This only takes some of the risk
away
since I often get conflicting information whether from the internet or
the numerous books I've collected or even nursery personnel. If it gives me trouble for more than three
years, rip it
out. The pleasant smell of phlox just doesn't make up for the
the
ugly mildewy leaves.PREPARE THE SOIL -- if I learned one thing and
learned it well
it's prepare the soil. Adding compost feeds the soil which in
turn feeds my plants. Even leaving a top dressing of 3-4
inches
of compost on a bed for six months before planting in it makes a huge
difference. I top dress in spring and fall as I weed (and it's pretty
much the only time I weed).If it does well... buy more!!!! I
love barrenwort and it
seems to love my gardens.I try a plant three times in three places and then give up trying to grow it if it's not flourishing. There are so many interesting, colorful, wonderful choices to be had ... I simply move on to something else. I do still occasionally look longingly at the lupines in the nurseries but I know better. Why should I sacrifice those lovely plants just to confirm I've very good at killing them?
I've redefined failure itself. Just
because my
gardens don't look as nice as those on calendars, in books or those
glorious
public gardens doesn't mean I don't get immense pleasure out of
them. So I didn't stake the Canterbury Bells in time to have them look
good when they peaked, the bells were enjoyed nonetheless.I don't use chemicals -- I share with the bugs
(they make good
subjects for photos) and if something just gets eaten continually, I
stop trying to grow it. I believe plants become chemical
junkies
if you use chemicals to feed them (although, in container planting you
really do need to use fertilizer -- there usually isn't enough soil to
support the number and size of plants in them).Garden work should be done in spring and fall
-- heat just
stresses out me and my plants.Enjoy what I accomplish and don't compare -- how important is it really that my neighbor had tomatoes a full week ahead of me? Did they taste any better? And even if they did.. so what?
Actually I don't grow tomatoes
anymore. I get them fresh
from the local farmer's market which frees up space in my gardens for
flowers, keeps
the local farmer employed, gives me a huge variety to select from
(since there's more than one farmer growing more than one kinda mater)
and
cuts back on the aggravation I always have when I do try to grow them.
It's the lazy way out I know but I simply don't care.