AllHisBlessings

I like to think of myself as a gardener. I enjoy growing things and digging in the dirt, anyway. That makes me a gardener, right? Well, now that I've labeled myself as such, I'm feeling the need to talk about what I've been doing for the past month. I spend as much time as possible outside. (Here's where you quietly say to yourself, "Ohhh, that's why she never answers the phone.") I water all my plants, inspect them, prune them, gaze at them, consider what my next project will be, think about what they'll look like in five more years or ten more years... It's a very involved process!

My neighbors probably think I'm really weird. I'm sure one will peek out of a window, commenting to her husband reading the newspaper, "There she is, hon, staring at that gardenia bush again! Very odd!"

My only problem with being such a devoted gardener at heart is that I'm much too poor for my grandiose schemes. I envision these giant, lush mounds of color and texture at every turn in my yard, spotted with lovely blooming trees, all at just the right height. What I end up with, however is three tiny bushes and a sprig of flowers that will one day grow into the space. Hopers summed it up for me the other day as I had just finished planting a loropetalum bush near the trash can. "Aww, its so cute!" she exclaimed, as I wiped the last of the dirt from my hands. One day, it'll be a six-foot-tall monster that I'll have to hack into submission with a chainsaw, but for now, it's "cute" at twenty-four inches tall.

Ah, well... can't have everything all at once.

One plant that I'm particularly happy with this year is a japanese bloodgood maple that I found dying in a pot beside our house when we first moved in. It has finally decided that it has a reason to live, and has sprouted with gusto this spring.

The leaves have a feathery softness about them that, coupled with their vibrant color, just leaves me in awe of creation. I love it!!

Last year, I wrote about the major work we did in the yard after some friends gave us quite a few bushes they had removed from their landscaping. (See Plants and Floor Projects ) It's kind of fun to go back and see what everything looked like a year ago... remembering what plants survived (some) and what plants didn't (most). Out of eight indian hawthorn plants, only about three survived. In this photo, you can see two of the survivors. One is in the center, being sandwiched between purple hearts and dwarf bordeaux yaupon holly, the other is way up in the top, just past the mass of ferns growing under the air conditioner.

Yeah, I know, you can't really see it from here. So here's another picture. It has pretty pink blooms! (I know, I'm such a sucker for color.)

For some reason, the ones on the other side of the house didn't fare as well. I have several large, brown tumbleweed-looking things that used to be indian hawthorns, and one that managed to keep a partial amount of leaves, mostly on one side. I haven't decided its fate yet.

The purple hearts, however, I absolutely love. One, for their color, and two, because they stay alive even through winter and look fabulous on even the hottest day of August. You can just snap off a piece and throw it on the ground and suddenly, you've got a new plant! If only I could get new plants like that all the time. The only other thing I've been that successful at propagating is weeds. So anyway, if you want some purple hearts for your own yard, don't be afraid to ask and I'll throw some your way!

Also among the plants that were given to us last year were about eight loropetalum. We planted three of them in the front of the house, one on the "certain death" side, and the rest went along the back. One and a half lived. In the photo below, you can see the one that made it (I'll talk about the half plant in a minute).

Yep, it's that large, stick-ish thing with sprouts coming out of it. Also in the picture are the vinca vines that I bought last year (great plant, stays happy through the winter, too), some decorative grasses (the short, brown stubby things are purple fountain grass, coming back sloooowly) and new indian hawthorns. Originally, the loropetalum was planted over in the corner, where you can see I've planted a new one (in the size I can afford). All of the leaves died, and I had nothing but these morbid, bare-branched bushes for a year. But I really wanted them to live because they are great plants. They have dark green leaves with purple-red new growth that stays year-round. In the spring, they develop bursts of tiny pink flowers like they're having a little party all to themselves.

Now as for the half plant, it was along the back of the house with the row of its kind. They were all incredibly dead looking. I kept waiting for vultures to start roosting on them. But there was one--it had a small branch protruding from the side that began growing again out of nowhere. I kept squinting at the rest of the branches, looking for some sign that there was more of this to come. But, nothing. Not a bud. Finally, a few weeks ago, I decided enough was enough. I dug up the lifeless bushes. To my complete surprise, I discovered that the small branch was actually a separate plant, trying its darndest to keep living! Well, I couldn't just toss it to the curb with the rest of the twigs. Right? The poor thing had suffered enough under my care! I re-planted it! I now have a knee-high rediculous little stick protruding from the mud in my back yard. But you know me...

I'll be out there every day to water it, inspect it, prune it, gaze at it, consider what my next project will be, and think about what it'll look like in five more years or ten more years.

Hope the neighbors don't mind :)