The weather's been gray and dreary, cold and damp (the worst!) for so long, it almost feels like April. Don't know about you but I'm so busy at the moment I've had no time to feel depressed about the weather.
No time either to fuss in the garden. So I got someone to do it for me. I can't prune huge tree limbs hanging over the street and I chose not to spend gigantic chunks of vacation time to trim perennials and spread compost, so I bit the bullet, hired some folks to help and ran up the equivalent of the war debt. Which leads me to urge all gardeners to keep track of what's planted where.
I thought I was Miss Smarty Pants by putting plant tags next to all the stuff that went in over the last growing season. But sometimes when leaves and debris get raked and gathered with gusto, the tags get swept away. Upon seeing my nice, neat and newly trimmed garden, then, I was of two minds: Thrilled that I didn't have to do it and chagrined to realize that almost all of the plant tags were gone.
Some of the plants got swept away, too - a couple of little sedums I was nursing along and a few other things whose names now - of course - I can't recall. I guess come spring we'll take inventory and see what else went away.
Point is, nobody fusses over your garden quite like you do. Nobody takes the care you think it requires. It's kind of like raising your kids. Nobody who isn't kin cherishes them exactly as you do.
Short of explaining what's what and hovering over the work crew, there's not a lot to be done about this. And I shouldn't complain. I'm lucky I could hire someone. But I'm kicking myself for keeping no records, for not writing down somewhere what I bought and where I planted it. I took the easy way out and then, faced with strangers coming to do my work for me, I failed to go outside and take notes.
It'll be interesting to see what comes back next spring. What does come up should be fluffy and full, which will be pure joy to watch. What doesn't come up will be noted, grieved over, gnashed about and then, face it, forgotten. I'll just run out and get something else.
I'm trying to cut out that last step, though. I'm trying to plant enough perennials that I don't feel the need to buy new stuff every year. Is that such a crazy notion?
By now you're wondering what the photo at the top of this posting is and why it's there. It's a picture of a spectacular dahlia that didn't grow in my garden, didn't get swept away and likely will never be bought by me to plant there. It was growing this summer and fall in Burpee's Fordhook Garden up in Doylestown. Isn't it superb?
I've always considered dahlias a pain in the neck because they need to be dug up every year and held over till spring. These days, I'm being decadent. Let others do the digging. I just want to enjoy the flowers - swept away, if you will, by their beauty.
