These days, what with the job and the kid and all, I count my garden time in precious hours, not chunks of day, as in: “Oh, I spent the morning in the garden.” Yesterday Noah and I arrived home from visiting my parents in Providence. I hauled home in my carry on a dozen divisions of day lilies, the gorgeous ones from Kingston. We walked in the door, I kissed Grant, handed him the parenting duties, and grabbed my gloves and a shovel. It began to pour, and I spent a glorious hour in the front garden bed, grubbing out grass and putting in lilies.
This morning I sent my kiddo off to his first day of pre kindergarten. After dropping him off, I was supposed to join the other parents for breakfast and chat…I tried, but the crowd of very friendly people freaked me out and I ran home to my garden, where I spent another hour in the rain, moving my 8 foot tall oriental lilies out of one bed and into another.
My personal gardening pendulum, the one that swings between my ornamental beds and my vegetable and fruit garden, seems to have taken a swing toward useless beauty. I am again finding myself reading “The English Garden” and contemplating color combinations in my dreams.