My Garden

Last April I planted eight kinds of plants in my new flower beds.

There were cannas, day lilies, babies breath, impatiens, geraniums, zinnias, something I don't remember the name of, and one tea rose. Oh, and begonias. Nine kinds of plants.

That didn't seem to be enough, so in May I added three kinds of mint.

I love mint, and this one smelled like chocolate! And that one was apple-y! I picked a leaf off of this one over here every time I passed, held it under my nose and smiled as I thought of my mom's mint beds. 

Then a couple of marigolds came up all by themselves and I couldn't bring myself to discourage this kind of entrepreneurial spirit, so I let them stay.

The summer came, and the zinnias multiplied and the cannas grew so high they touched the top of the porch. The impatiens drowned the day lilies, and the orderly rows of plants exploded in anarchy.

When the historic house tour folks arrive on Sunday afternoon, the more diligent gardeners will be able to feel good about their own skills as they look at this pandemonium of plant life. My flower beds are chaotic, and messy, and too loud, and and out of control, but I love them.

They're beautiful. Just like my life.