Filed under: Gardening, Flowers, How-To
If only I could see this English wildflower garden from my back window. Photo: Sideshow Bruce, Flickr
If I stand at my kitchen window and squint, I can almost see my dream garden come alive. It's a romantic, quaint English wildflower garden scene that creates a tranquil vista, with colorful untamed blooms of primroses, peonies, geraniums and foxglove swaying in the breeze. But if I open my eyes a bit, what I really see are weeds. You see, I have a black thumb.
I've always had it, yet I've tried for years to get it to go green, so I can have my lovely wildflower garden. In my first house, I cultivated a small raised bed, threw in the mixed wildflower seeds and up came dozens of prickly, aggressive, super tall and heavy-headed coneflowers that whacked me in the face every time I went near them. I moved on to a new house and a fresh start with a yard that receives loads of sun and has rich, nutritious soil. But nothing I plant grows.
About 15 years ago, I decided to help my dream along by hiring two women who advertised their expertise in English garden design. They planted, I watered, I waited. Nothing grew. While I waited, I managed to kill a healthy tomato plant that a neighbor gave us. At the same time, a friend from Manhattan who had a way with plants gave me a cutting of morning glories, which she swore would bloom without problem. I saw one purple flower -- about a decade ago -- and now the vines, which are impossible to fully remove, are strangling my bushes.
I realized that wildflowers, as easy as they should be to grow, weren't working for me. So, of all things, I tried roses. I stapled lattice to the house, used Miracle Grow, picked bugs off the plants and finally had climbing pink roses. But then due to an ancient property line issue, we had a landscape company move the driveway and dig up our front lawn (and yes, my roses). They made up for the transgression by planting easy things for me to maintain -- lilacs, perennials, things that others could easily keep thriving. Under my watch these "easy" plants went anemic -- and I swear I watered.
I've tried my hand at impatiens, possibly the simplest flower to maintain. But after a disaster (too much Miracle Grow?), they became leggy and died. I remembered my mom telling me that no one can mess up planting bulbs, so I tried. But I accidentally planted some of them upside down. Laugh if you must.
At this point, you'd think that I would have given up. Instead, I've persevered. I've read Gardening For Dummies. I've read Landscaping For Dummies. Do you know that I still can't remember the difference between annuals and perennials?
All of this frustrates me. After all, I am a nurturing, compassionate mom, wife and friend and, heck, I'm a former hospice volunteer. So what if the rest of the world can grow flowers and I can't? I've had the joy of watching other living, breathing things grow and blossom in the presence of my tender, loving care and patience. I have a colorful, aromatic garden of a different sort filled with the beauty of children and the fragrance of my cooking talents.
As for flowers, they elude me. But that's why there are florists: So I can enjoy the fruits of someone else's labor of love.