A Few Things I Know

Every winter articles and posts abound about how to make this new year a better year and you a better person. But I bet you're fine just the way you are. The longer I garden, the more I learn about myself. I'm sure my posts and garden speak enough about me to keep a therapist busy for years but who cares. I like what I see.

I am as systematic as I am artistic.

I apologized. To a plant. Don't waste time analyzing this. You'll just torture yourself. 

I take notes of what needs to be done in the garden and spend a lot of time observing and analyzing the problem before making any big changes. Usually. However, I have been known to just rip things out and once on a very bad day yelled at a clematis for being the wrong color. I find charts and lists as comforting as piles of art supplies and books. 

I prefer curved lines to straight.

July 2014

Last fall I removed more grass, extended the rain garden and redesigned this area a bit.

My garden curves inward like an embrace to snug around an elliptical lawn, a shape I find comforting. I told someone once that my garden was designed like a hug and they looked at me like I had squid coming out my ears. Whatever. It makes sense to me and that's all that matters. Whenever I see plants imprisoned behind stiff little hedges, I have to fight the urge to cut an escape route and start yelling, "Run, Forest! Run!"

I like full, fluffy shrubs with a natural shape rather than linear, erect ones or little green meatballs. 

Despite having deep appreciation for this shape, I don't want a garden full of them.

Prague viburnums in early May 2014

My property is only eight feet wide on this side of my house. But instead of adding tall skinny shrubs to accent the narrow space or butchering a shrub into a rectangular stripe down the side, I added giant, voluptuous 'Prague' viburnums. Tough evergreens, they provide year round shelter for birds and keep the house cool in the summer.  They are limbed up to increase air circulation and light. 

I like funky art.

This birdhouse was made by a local artist.

Neoclassic urns and cherubs are nice but they're not my style. I like funky, quirky handmade art and refuse to buy anything mass produced in China.

I have a fairly algebraic need for balance.

Curving grass paths on both sides lead you from the gates to the center of the garden. The black log on the upper right is one of my dogs, a dachshund/corgi mix named Baby, who was adopted from a local shelter.

What I do to one side of the garden I will replicate in theme, if not symmetry, on the other. Rocks, birdhouses, birdbaths, copper art, and small shrubs woven among my perennials can be seen throughout my garden.

I need my shady spots as well as the more colorful areas.

This photo was taken in the morning in late May 2014. By early afternoon, the entire back of my garden is in partial to full shade.

There is nothing shy or reserved about me but I tend to be very reflective and spend a great deal of time just wandering about my brain having a think. Parking my butt in the hammock on the shady side of the garden allows me to slow down and just enjoy.

I am an informal, cottage gardener to the bone.

Lucy is a beagle/basset/lab mix adopted from the same shelter as Baby. She is the guardian of the garden.

Anal retentive gardening is not my style. I don't want my plants lined up like naughty boys who were caught playing with their willies instead of going to sleep. My garden is a happy hippie commune and I am the water girl.

I just don't like every plant.

One of these things looks just like the other....

I avoid plants that are stabby, spikey, pokey, prickly or thorny, except for my roses. I am a tactile, affectionate person and like plants I can touch without worrying about needing stitches. But I just don't like cockscomb plant (celosia cristata). It looks like a pile of brains. 

My garden is my art studio, science lab, and workshop. 

Gardening is the perfect marriage of science, engineering, and art. I've designed mine to make me happy, regardless of popular opinion or whatever the latest garden trend may be.