I love gardening! I figured it was something that I would like…eventually…when my life slowed down enough to learn how to do it well. I dabbled in the dirt over the past few years but I always felt so intimidated by my neighbours as they confidently tended to their horticultural masterpieces.
I thought that there was a precise method to gardening – that you had to follow some unspoken world gardening rules – but I have since learned that everyone has their own unique gardening methods. I liken it to roasting a turkey – there are as many roasting secrets as there are turkey roasters. Everyone is convinced that their way is best but there is no absolute”right” way to roast a turkey and apparently, there is no absolute “right” way to garden. You just do it. Trial and error. Plant and replant. Make your mistakes look they are an integral part of an elaborate unfolding of color and glory.
I enjoy the whole kit ‘n kaboodle of my new hobby…everything from rummaging through the nursery to planning my garden colors to digging up the dirt to watering the plants to watching everything grow. This morning, I took my smoothie and Bran cereal out to the back deck so that I could check out my periwinkle and marvel at my hostas. This evening, a little girl who lives down the road, came and helped me plant my annuals and my tomatoes. What a delight to watch her gingerly pat down the soil and strategically position the tomato cages “just right.”
I love the dancing ferns on the south side of the house and the clinging clematis climbing up the lattice. I just finished planting some herbs and Chris was pretty excited to see some pea plants peeking out the vegetable garden by the railroad tracks.
…and of course, the cascading geraniums outside my kitchen window just make me smile, every time I look at them.
It tickles my fancy when I think of all the days I have to enjoy my gardens.