I have little stacks around my home. That's how I most like to organize things it seems. Little stacks of bills to be paid, little stacks of clothes, little stacks of dishes. My favorite stacks to make though are little stacks of books. These three sit in different corners of my sitting room. They so eloquently express what brings me joy in this moment. Spring, flowers, Beatrix Potter, hand making, gardens...
Sometimes I wonder if I am more of a sofa gardener. One who likes to sit and read about gardens, look at photos of gardens than actually get out there and do the gardening. Is that me? I want to be a gardener I think. The thing is I hate weeding and that's what most of my gardening consists of right now. Weeding in a space that I don't really care much for what's growing there. All five azaleas are old and sick. The rhododendrons are overgrown and too numerous to count (maybe it's just one or two but it takes up a third of the yard.) There is a errant vine maple growing in the middle of an overgrown bed and too many juniper bushes for one who's allergic to juniper. I do love the lilac and the magnolia and the quince tree. There's where you'll find me gardening.
We are in the process of transforming our front yard into a beautiful English cottage garden. It's where all the sun is. Big galvanized tubs were put in on the side yard a couple weeks ago. Think cutting garden and veggie patch that little slugs and rabbits that wander these spaces can't reach. I planted my first flowers seeds on Easter in one of the tubs. Bells of Ireland and Bachelor's Buttons. On Tuesday I walked over to the little tub, bent down, and whispered quietly to the little seeds underneath the layer of soil. "Grow big and strong little seeds. Sweet bells of Ireland, my little bachelor's you can do it. Reach up for the sun my dear ones." They feel like my little children. I must nurture and care for them gently and tenderly and wait patiently for them to grow. Fingers crossed I'll soon be bringing in some homegrown blooms to fill vases.
