No, I’m not into a freaky mood, ready to take out a real person instead of a bad guy in my latest book. It’s just my annual ritual of heading to Home Depot and picking out sacrificial plants. You see, I love the look of a flowering garden. I have a small pond in my back yard with a flower bed around it. I can look out my back window or sit on the deck in the evening and enjoy my own little patch of paradise. Well, it would be paradise if I had any luck with plants. As it is, they are beautiful at first. I even get excited and water them on schedule for the first few weeks. But I’m an indoor person. I thrive sitting on my couch with a remote control in my hand. Or at the computer writing a story or trolling the ‘Net. Outside there are mosquitos and unregulated temperatures. Humidity does bad things to my hair. It’s not paradise.
It’s sad that I’m this way. The plants want to be loved. They practically beg to be taken care of. If they’re lucky, we get rain often enough to extend their lives for a decent period of time. But last summer we had a drought in Texas. And months of days with over a hundred degree temperatures. What plant can survive that? Only the hardiest. Luckily my giant oak trees are ancient and carried on. My knock-out roses refused to be knocked out. But the bedding plants went lights out. Even the ground cover that had thrived for over twenty years turned brown and bit the dust. Pitiful. I can’t let this stand.
So I called my handy man who is the one who lugs in the mulch and the plants and digs the holes. He gave me his usual pep talk about when to water and set about sticking things into the ground. Such pretty colors. I like pink and orange, a blue hydrangea like my grandmother had in her garden. There are periwinkles too because I’m assured they are practically indestructible. The picture here shows things before he got them into the ground. At least you can see it before things start to go downhill. Because they will. I know myself. Even with resolutions to change, I will probably fail these poor specimens. It’s inevitable. But tonight I’ll pour a glass of wine and sit in a lawn chair with my dog Jet nearby. We’ll enjoy the pond and the flowers, swat at mosquitos and toast to a new sacrifice to Mother Nature. Maybe it will rain.
How about you? Indoor or outdoor? Garden? Or not? Share. I love to hear what you are doing.