Gardening—not all it's cracked up to be
Today was the day—the first day warm enough to even consider spending outside. In Western New York, it's either late winter or early summer; spring's existence is confined to the calendar and the fact that tulips and daffodils are in bloom. So I ventured forth into the yard, where I:
-pulled out acres of English ivy, some of which I had actually purchased.
-stabbed at least 3 existing lily bulbs possibly to death as I tried to plant some new ones. Finally, I gave up and put the new ones in pots.
-pruned the roses.
-pulled out dead stalks and foliage from last year, stomping more bulbs in the process.
-installed a new trellis for the clematis, this wobbly sort of triangular thing. It could be cool, though.
God, it's a mess out there. On days like these, and there will be many more, I go outside and begin a long process of starting one thing, seeing another problem, working on that, running into the house or garage for tools, and then starting something else, with all the other things still in progress. It's rather harrowing, and very little seems to get accomplished. Also, this year I need to dig out a bunch of plants that are being displaced by the pond. This is a big deal for me, because I'm not one of those people who blithely move plants around all the time.
Above you see the erythronium foliage. This is one of the best, if not the best, spring bulbs for foliage; too bad it's out for such a short time.
Comments
You need nerves of steel for gardening and to forgive yourself for the odd mistake or two that you are bound to make.
After more than 20 years of gardening I've found that it pays to finish one job first and then start with another, regardless of how tempting or in dire need that other job looks. You drive yourself crazy otherwise, because you end up with all those half-done jobs, which is very discouraging.
Good luck with moving your plants! If you are in need of something to calm your nerves, come to Bliss, we have just the right thing for you! ;-)
I pulled a fistful -- literally, a 4-inch diameter pile of seedlings -- and still, everywhere I look I see more.
Where are the slugs when you need them most?!