My mother’s garden is beautiful – a layered work of art. My mémère’s garden had a spectacular assortment of roses and lilacs, perfectly pruned. My avo’s garden is full of robust vegetables, and blooms that smell like her islands. They all putter in big hats.
Yet, their skill continues to elude me – like their cooking genes. I’ve got a black thumb and it sucks. BUT, like Charlie Brown with his football, I keep trying anyway. And lately, I’ve actually made some progress.
- I put a lot of tasty plants in pots. They help me with mojitos, pizza and salad.
2. With help from Helena, Fina, Andy and Owen, I added a new garden bed. Don’t ask me to identify plants.
3. I expanded my herb garden. Problem is, I already had all the “normal” herbs. So if you ever need sweet woodruff or russian sage give me a call.
4. We have beautiful old trees and little sunlight. That means a lot of hostas.
5. I added forsythia and creeping jenny to this garden bed. David is looking solemn and beautiful as ever.
6. I created a shade garden last year. No flower will ever bloom in this dark corner, but it’s starting to look green and happy.
7. This is my hopeless cause. The hostas, ferns and hydrangeas are filling in nicely. So is this creeping evil plant that is temporarily pretty but then just swallows up everything else.
There are tons of other problem spots (a weedy stone path, those damn dandelions, illogical decks) but I feel like I’ve made some progress. I’m celebrating the small wins.
It’s not my mom’s garden, but it’s something.