Garden? Did someone say “garden”? I don’t know what happened, but somewhere between “getting an early start” and “I think it’s too late now,” I got stuck in the GARDENING TWILIGHT ZONE.
Thanks to El Niño this year, I got the earliest start ever on my flowerbeds and garden. Remember the warm February and March? Energized and motivated by the premature spring, I ordered the specialty seeds from my seed catalogues, much earlier than usual. Anticipating their arrival, my husband even got out the rototiller and started turning over the dried vines, compost, and weed sprouts in the garden.
Then, because my perennials had to stand on tiptoe to see over the fast-growing weeds, I started weeding and pruning—much earlier than usual. I even pinched off sprigs of parsley and mint a month before Easter! Not much later, weed sprouts required my husband to rototill again.
It was not long until the apricot tree started to bud out—way too early, I worried. But, inspired by the yard’s precious efforts, I ran to assist and save what I could. I broke the strangleholds the morning glories and Virginia creeper already had on my daisies, climbing roses, and cherry tree. Then I cleaned out the perennial beds again and fertilized the yard. I also picked up three rose bushes to replace the victims of winter, and more bulbs—because you can never have too many bulbs. While we waited for the catalogue order to arrive, the weeds continued to flourish in the unusually warm weather, so my husband rototilled the still-empty garden again.
However, by the time the seeds arrived and I got my seed potatoes, it was winter again, so I waited to plant—and waited—and waited. Then, life being what it is, the garden became a low priority for a couple of months. The weeds, of course, were still thriving in all weather conditions, so my husband bundled up and went out after the rain and snow to rototill the non-garden, yet again.
In fact, we had kept our non-garden rototilled and on hold until recently. I was cleaning out the garage and found a malodorous frothy mass foaming over the edge of the bucket that held my seed potatoes. Oh, no, I thought; it’s too late—but is it?
Yes, I know summer is almost over, but how could I not put in a garden? I always have a garden; I am a Gardener, after all. I must have a garden! (This is an urge that only a real gardener can understand.) So, I went to the nursery and dragged home two anemic tomato plants, two leggy oregano starts, one pepper (?) plant with no I.D tag, and one past-its-prime cilantro sprig. Like wilting “wallflowers” at a dance, the reluctant recruits were among the few stragglers left on the shelf. I thought they would appear eager to be chosen, but they had grown lazy, even recalcitrant in their unproductive lifestyle. I could see that they would require a lot of attention and patience for them to live up to their potential.
But, my determination was firmly planted and soon they would be firmly planted, as well. “It is never too late—go for it!” I encouraged them.
Actually, my meager garden is doing surprisingly well for such a late start, but isn’t that so often the case for those of us who are late bloomers?