In The Beginning

When we first moved into our house there were no gardens. The place had been a rental for 18 years so it had low maintenance landscaping. Lots of yard, rhodies and evergreen shrubs. The only elements that were remarkable were a hydrangea that produces vivid blue flowers and a spectacular Japanese maple. The northwest corner of the lot was planted rather well with junipers and azaelas and those have remained. It creates a little "room" in front of the maple that is a very pleasant place to sit of a summer evening with a glass of wine and The Spouse. But essentially it was a blank canvas.

This suited me fine. I was ready to be landed gentry. I would watch "Martha Stewart" and find myself teary at the end of each episode. It wasn't that I wanted an estate in Connecticut. I just wanted my own little plot to work. Window boxes weren't cutting it anymore.

Some of the bones of the existing landscape worked for me but a great many shrubs and rhodies were pulled out that first spring. The Spouse was excited to have lots of lawn to mow, but I had secret designs on turning most of it into garden. (As the years have come on this is easier and easier to finesse. The charm of mowing has subsided).

The first plants to go in were roses. We received 3 as housewarming gifts: "Gertrude Jeykll" from my folks, "Just Joey" from Tim and Mike and "Heritage" from our old apartment neighbors (we called them "The Mertz's"). These were all installed in the north end of the front garden and the first bit of lawn disappeared.

John and Sandra gave us a mountain ash tree. The mountain ash, or rowan, is my favorite of all trees. They gave us a 3 year old, as that was the age of The Child at the time. They wanted the two of them to "grow up" together. This was ceremoniously planted on May Day, at the south end of the front garden. Over time a bed has been installed at it's base, mostly full of salvia and daisies.

The first year I urgently dug up a small bit of lawn outside of the kitchen and stuck in a few tomato plants and basil. In the second spring, however, we dug proper potagers, three raised beds outside the kitchen door. One has been taken over by the world's most prolific rosemary bush, some thyme and a columnar apple tree. The other two are for a revolving cast of vegetables. That same year we also put three raised beds on the north side of the house where I intended to have my cutting garden. I still adore the idea of a cutting garden. The problem is that I rarely made it over to that side of the house. The beds became mostly receptacles for weeds, maple seedlings and the stray cosmos or poppy. We eventually torn these beds down. When it comes to flowers I guess I'm more a border than beds kinda gal.

It didn't take me many years to figure out that I preferred to spend my energies on the kitchen garden and my roses. Thus, I've planted borders of lavendar, the praises of which I'll sing in another post, bulbs and other plants that do not require my undivided attention. I still envision more plant material, more form to my gardens. The front garden, which presents it's face to the world, is still entirely too linear. The back garden, where we spend all our summer hours, is still, after nearly 9 years, a shapeless void. There are three things which get in the way of my vision:

1) Our land. It is hard pack clay and rock. Breaking the sod is backbreaking pioneer work and then the soil must be amended and amended and amended again. I carve out a little more every year but I always stop short of the goal because it is just too damn hard!

2) Finances. I don't care how much money I have to spend, it is never enough to get all the material I want.

3) Will. I'm honest about this. I love the idea of a garden sometimes more than I enjoy the reality of making a garden.

In a world of woulda, coulda, shoulda, I don't want my garden to be yet another agent of guilt. I don't want to focus on the remaining empty spaces but on all the form and color that has been introduced. Because when I look at before and after pictures of our place, we've done a lot. It isn't award-winning, but it's a lot more interesting. And that should be reward enough. Most days, it is.