A Garden to Die For

I am a most reluctant gardener which has been stated many times before. I am also a miser, and that must be the root of the problem. We inherited a nice little garden with this house. John said at the outset that he was not going to get caught up in it, so what choice did I have? I couldn’t let the previous owner’s investment of time and money go to waste, could I? Besides, I was surrounded by real gardeners – former neighbor Amy, across the street Shawn and Bob, and next door Joyce. They might have needed someone to look down on, and I was the perfect one. Instead, they were most helpful, willing to share advice whenever asked. I couldn’t let down the neighborhood.

I almost gardened myself silly this morning. All I went out for was to trim off the dead roses. Several times I had clipped around two areas with low-growing evergreens near the pergola. That’s where I started on the way to the roses.

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First clippings are near the stone wall.

Somehow I missed the big bed just outside the porch screened door. The former owners had the area carefully ringed in stones, and I let those bushes get way past their boundary. Despite having already put in my quota of pruning time, I whacked about 5 feet of that line. The butchering was done with a dull pair of clippers, the action being more twisting than cutting.

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Stones were exposed, and the gravel walk was strewn with branches.

Miles of evergreen later, I almost couldn’t walk back in the house. I came in thankful the garden didn’t kill me today. I really don’t want a garden that I WILL DIE FOR!!!!