Once upon a time, I had a very large, lovely container garden of edible herbs and flowers. I spent my mad money on plants and soil, and put the plants in any container i could find: an old worn out hiking boot, a wooden crate, a rusted red wagon with a missing wheel, a colander, a gallon tin can--- and people would peek over the fence to enjoy the smells and sight of that porch garden. My first retriever, Taylor, destroyed and ate my garden in a few minutes, single-handedly demolishing a garden collection I had nurtured for a few years. I was so disheartened that I didnt try to rebuild the garden because, like Taylor, puppies Luke and Mollie also destroyed any plants I brought home. But Ive missed gardening. A lot. In April, I brought home some hanging baskets of purple petunias and a couple ranunculus plants, purchased on a whim-- something I seldom do, by the way. Those few little pots of flowers gave me such pleasure. I added a daisy and a lavender plant. More happiness in caring for the little plants. Last week, mama and I strolled through the greenhouse at the hardware store and I began to fill a box with little potted plants-- licorice, marjoram, thyme, rosemary, peppermint, sage, chamomile, nasturtium, basil, geraniums, and several varieties of succulents and sedum. The bones of an edible garden like I once nurtured. Yesterday, Mama gifted me with a large red honeysuckle. I am going to re-pot the plants in lager containers in the next few days and find a space for them -- some indoors, some outdoors. With five dogs, I wont be able to recreate the barrels and pots and pans and unusual repurposed planters of my first garden from long ago, but I can hang baskets and have pots on shelves. It is a start. It is a simple joy that brings quiet minutes of peace. That is certainly something worth nurturing, dont you think?
Posted on: Sun, 01 Jun 2014 07:24:36 +0000
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