Planting Pansies

Peek-a-boo Pansies

Garden notes:

- Divided and replanted daylilies and irises
- Started new bed behind new shed
- Moved raspberry bushes to new, more spacious location outside veggie garden
- Plucked raspberry bush prickers from gloveless hands
- Turned over vegetable garden
- Trimmed rose bushes
- Raked and weeded bed near the dogwood
- Planted pansies and violas
- Spread milorganite everywhere

Notes for next week:

- See what the deer ate from this week
- Spread manure in veggie garden
- Add soil to bed by the pool
- Visit garden center and behold lovely perennials
- Buy new garden gloves for future raspberry bush moves
- Maybe start snow peas
- Consider moving the pussy willow bush to sunnier location

Nothing brings me more peace than gardening. Not reading, not sleeping, not eating.

I'd put it very near the joy of taking care of my precious, little children.

There's something about helping things grow that gives me peace of mind. While I was turning over my garden, the neighbor's teenager came out and started his go-cart. It's a terribly noisy, rattling machine that huffs and coughs as it zooms around the yard. The chain clanks. The motor hesitates. The wheels go bump over rocks.

On any normal day, I'd be creasing my brow, whispering choice adjectives for him and his vehicle and the parents who let him ride on the street (after he crashed, helmetless, into my neighbor's mailbox and the cablebox). I'd be considering calling the police if he so much as takes one turn on my yard.

Today, though, while turning over my vegetable garden, it didn't bother me. I was far closer to the noise, and I wasn't irritated like I normally am. No reaching for the phone. No clenched fist or furrowed brow.

Maybe it was the methodic way I was turning over the bed that made me calm. One pitchfork dug in, an extra shove with my foot, then up and over. Next square foot. Over and over until the end of the row, then start a new one. My garden is about 6'x15'. The whole process takes under a half an hour. Vrroooom his go-cart whizzed by. Me with my head down, feet in the soil, sun on my face. My mind was on growing.

There are people in the world who nurture things and make things grow. And there are people who don't. I am a grower. A happy grower.

As my husband and I worked in our yard, a shale-filled, tree-covered acre, I noticed the mark of our efforts over the past twelve years. The daffodils blooming on the hill and in the gardens, more in number than when we moved in. The roses throwing up shoots, the lilies already green and hostas poking up through the dirt. The azaleas and rhododendrons are getting ready to bloom. The hyacinths are fully bloomed and fragrant beneath my kitchen window.

I've shared my yellow primrose with two neighbors. I hope they took to their shadier yards. I've shared my hostas and irises with neighbors down the other street. They've shared different varieties back to me.

The lilac bush, a Mother's Day gift from the kids, is now four feet tall after only two years. I think I'll get flowers from it this year. Right in time for Mother's Day, I bet. A bit of nature for the nurturer. I can't think of a better gift.

Can't wait 'til planting date!

http://www.thegardenhelper.com/hardiness.htm