The Garden

I wanted to share some pictures with you of my gardens past.

This is where I've been lately.

Besides, Aaron has taken over my computer with his blog, so I'm lucky to be here now!

There is a possibility that I will talk about my garden, and soil, and plants until we are both blue in the face.

You are warned.

I never planted anything before I moved here, and my first few years gardening were an epic failure.

Gardening is in my blood though. My mom gardened, my aunt's gardened, and from what I've been told, my paternal grandmother lived for her garden.

I wish I could have known her.

I bet she would have liked me.

I used to be able to spout off all the botanical Latin names of every plant in my garden.

Not so much anymore - I've been reduced to 'you know...that red flowering thing over by the chicken coop'. I need to brush up on my Latin again.

In 1995 I went through the Purdue University Master Gardener Course.

It's good to learn and study about gardening, but it doesn't compare to getting your hands dirty.

I lie awake at night dreaming of new areas to put in. In the wee hours of the night, lying in bed, I'm sure I can handle a few more perennial beds.

Then comes August, and I rue the day I planted them.

There may come a day when someone needs to cut me out of the house.

I may get grown in.

I want to smother in flowers.

The garden is a living entity to me.

It greets me every morning.

Tucks me in every night.

I imagine being old, wrinkly and crooked, out in my garden with my trusty fork, tending the same perennials I planted in my youth. Memories will flood my soul as I remember where I got them, and perhaps I will have a massive heart attack as I try to plant a bush, and I will die, right there, with fork in hand, and a smile on my face.

I've told Glen that I don't want to be buried, I want to be composted.

I'm happily enslaved to my garden.

Most of the time.

Sometimes I do have to threaten it with RoundUp and even stomp over to the shed shouting 'Don't make me get the RoundUp'!

I care more about what my garden looks like, than my own appearance.

I'm more embarrassed if someone comes and finds weeds in my flowers than I do if they come and find me in my pajamas with mascara on my cheeks - which is pretty much what I look like all the time.

I'd be happy to answer any gardening questions you may have!

(Kathy - please re-send your email-I didn't get it!)

PS - Has anyone had trouble with the blog background being completely black?