I haven’t written much about my gardens this year. It has been a rough, slow start for most of them. My breast cancer slowed me down in the spring when I should have been tending to their new growth, the continual sprummer rain and darkness on beds that were planted for dryness and sun mooshed, damaging hail storms shredded, and, to be honest, my husband and I have been having too much darn fun every Sunday off the property when I normally would be putzing out there.
None the less, nature has its way. Mid August heat and the organic fertilizer I liberally applied—that I normally do in the spring—has given both of us hope. Something a true gardener is never without. But frankly, I don’t mind a bit-messy garden. It is a symbol of other things pressing on one’s time—fun or duty—and I can appreciate that; no judgement here. The mess can also the humbling effects of nature. One weed pulled today is another weed tomorrow. As Michael Pollan so humorously points out in his book Second Nature, man against nature is a philosophical never-ending battle, one I choose to relinquish now and again. Going with the natural flow of things, living in the moment…I learned this a lot in the garden this year.
Blue doesn’t always stay blue and fading can be nice…we all fade.
We planted late. Sometimes we get a late start in life and big isn’t always better.
Toby, our natural grass barber. Never let your hair cut define you.
Sometimes all one needs is a good sit and the color red.
…or pink and orange.
Herbs are hardy. Don’t forget that by adding spice in your life you will become more hardy too.
Next year I will make the brick edging that will keep the dirt in the beds in place; next year, next year. You do what you can do, “You get what you get and don’t get upset”; Pinkalicious.