Sunday, August 12, 2018

My Socks Don't Match and I Don't Care



Just to let you know, I'm a patient, analytical person by nature. Except for when I'm not. Sometimes I just want what I want and if there's nothing holding me back I can be outrageously spontaneous and decisive. I once went to London for a day to surprise someone who needed surprising. It needed to be done so I did it. It just didn't occur to me not to. 



Zinnias grown from seed


The front garden is filling in.


All the annuals were grown from seed over the winter.

But this summer life has unspooled on a timetable I can't control or influence so I've waited and waited and waited some more. But that's how it goes, isn't it? Sometimes you just have to stand back and look at the whole instead of the pieces and find the beauty in the chaos. 



Coneflowers and naked lady lilies came with the house.


This looks like a mess but there are 50 prairie dropseed grass plugs, 30 liatris spicata, and 30 orange milkweed plants hidden in this mess of turf I've dubbed The Meadow. The dropseed grass will eventually suffocate the turf and take over. I scattered in some rudbeckia because I wanted more color and had too many. Roses grow along the wall.


 Roses in the spring


Violets are everywhere are have to be pulled to keep from suffocating everything. These are all perennials brought over from my other garden.

If the garden reflects the gardener, mine has become a mess of contradictions. The front garden screams "I'm organized and have my shit together!" while the side garden laughs "My socks don't match and I don't care!". I don't know what the driveway garden says but it makes me happy and that's all that matters. The back is a massive construction site as a series of retaining walls of Titanic proportions are slowly taking shape.



To maximize my sunshine, I've lined my driveway with pots and stuffed them full of the annuals I grew from seed. 


Orange poets tassel flower (Emiliana javanica) and gomphrena.


Seed grown dahlia


An assortment of rudbeckia hirta


Life is a dance and you don't always get to pick the music. But get up and shake your ass, anyway. 



Just a wee bit of  The Wall
The concrete forms will be covered in river rocks.



A view of  The Wall from the second story