I grew up in the suburbs with tidy gardens of red annual geraniums, green grass and white sweet alyssum. I did not appreciate gardens at all. In my first home, a single girl’s city century semi, I had a long narrow yard which begged for curves and shade and greenery. I struggled to plant a garden there, but failed to spend the time and energy to nurture the garden. Although I planted the garden, I didn’t water or mulch, but I grew to love a lovely peach tree, which inspired me to love fruit trees, canning and baking.
In my next family home (of 25 years) I turned a flat farmers field of 3 acres surrounding our country ranch into a wild country garden, a meadow and a small orchard. I learned to love peonies, roses and all things pink! I enjoyed receiving perennials from friends and relatives, and grew to appreciate many different plants.
We have moved in the last year to a century home in a village within a city. It had once been planted with a garden, but had fallen into disarray. I am enjoying discovering the plants that are there now, clearing out the overgrowth and planting familiar plants and trying out some new ones.
I can’t say that I am a master gardener or a creative landscaper, but I love plants, I love to watch things grow, and I am afraid I am a bit of a plant hoarder, accumulating the latest plant on sale, and failing to pull weeds until I am absolutely sure of what they are. I always have one garden-stained knee, a bad manicure and I am happy to sit on my porch thinking about what to plant next.