I have a love-hate relationship with my garden. On one hand I feel pressured by it because things have to be trimmed at just the right time, hoed and planted at just the right time, weeded and harvested at just the right time, preserved or used at just the right time. It’s another burden of must-do’s added to my full plate.
Am I allowed to have a full plate being a stay-at-home mom? Because I always feel like I need to justify it.
Well, I suppose I actually planted them at one point, but they just blow me over by their sunshiny cheerfulness.
knowing that one day these fresh organic vegetables will make their way to my table for everyone to enjoy.
This is Alistair‘s tree. We planted a peach tree in his honor.
Fuzzy little buds to remind us of what once was.
– and put some backing on the fence to give us privacy until it grows).
The buds are popping out all over the prunus! This is why I painted my kitchen pink. This is what you see out the kitchen window.
(My neighbor is going to kill me if I don’t trim that bay leaf tree soon and I’m just gritting my teeth in anticipation of the annual profusion of pale pink and pale yellow blossoms side by side – I shall have to uproot that forsythia one day and put an end to this garish eyesore).
I had the idea to plant shade-loving bleeding hearts in this area behind the roses; it’s too shady to grow grass and these are sweet little things.
Pleasure and pain all mixed together is my garden. Perhaps one day I will have all the time in the world and nothing else I’d rather be doing. And then gardening will be pure delight.
And put off gardening.