I wasn't eager to get back outside and do yardwork this spring-- I still am not sure why-- but the work had to be done, regardless of how I felt about it. I'm always telling my kids that-- that work has to be done no matter how we feel about it... "Kids, it doesn't matter if you want to or not, you have to do it anyway." One of life's key lessons.
Another key life lesson, of course, is that you can choose to want to. And most work, once you get going at it, is not only not that bad, it's satisfying. My flower bed has been very satisfying work.
Remember: our first summer here, two years ago, my whole front flower bed was a nasty overgrown mess. I fought a losing battle with it all summer, and finally in the fall the young men from our ward came over and helped us rip out all the landscaping fabric, river rock, and bark mulch that was the problem. That was such an amazing blessing. Once I had bare dirt, I could dig all the Bermuda grass roots completely out.
Last summer I planted a bunch of stuff out there. I got two crape myrtles and four spirea bushes from someone who was giving them away and they were just perfect. I bought a bunch of perennials and a few annuals. The end result was lovely.
One of the crape myrtles was happy all last summer and the other struggled. This spring, the struggling one leafed out quite nicely,
but the one that was happy all last year showed no signs of life. I was sad. I would look at it every day as I left the house and think "I guess I have to pull it out since it's dead."
Then one day, weeks after everything else had woken up and bloomed, I saw a teeny tiny something down at the base of my dead crape myrtle. Could it be? Yes, the roots had survived and were sending up new growth from the very bottom of the plant. Hooray!
It's funny how sentimental I can get about my plants.
This spring I met a neighbor who has a breathtaking backyard garden. Like, people come to tour it, it's that amazing. One day she showed up at my door with a box of perennials she had dug out. I found them all homes among the many bare spots I still have out there. You can see some of the lamb's ear in the picture below-- it's in transplant shock in the picture, but it is now recovering. I got several lamb's ear, campion, bee balm, and a couple other things I can't remember. They were just what I needed, since I haven't been to the nursery and purchased anything this year.
At this point, most of what I need is time. What a joy it will be over time to watch everything grow and bloom!