Gardening and laughter are two of the finest ways to promote good health and a sense of well-being. As a writer of garden humour, I have to agree although I will admit to choking up and feeling quite sick when my beloved wisteria died. But that’s a gardener for you. Like life itself, we smile and carry on, visions of glory fuelling our consuming passion.
Gardening is certainly a passion of mine and has always been a large part of my life. I began early, helping my dad create a new garden. I didn’t get to help much, other than the weeding, which was something I learned from the bottom up, and I mean bottom up. By the time I was thirteen, when I began my first summer job as a gardener’s boy, I was a highly trained weed puller. You can imagine my joy when I bought my first home and was finally able to pull my very own weeds. Even today, I still manage to grow a few for old time’s sake, and I’m still wishing I had a nickel for each one I have pulled. I figure I could at least afford to own the Royal Botanical Gardens.
These days there really isn’t much room in my yard for weeds because I keep it crammed full of flowers and shrubs and vegetables. Fact is, I’m a self-confessed plant addict who will drag anything home if it is green or has roots (they should never have painted the hockey stick). Each spring the yard soon reaches its limit, and I’ll be the first to confess that I’ve planted new material on top of late sprouters. I have containers of plants stacked everywhere, plus I keep a few extras potted up in case I discover a bare spot somewhere in late summer. I just love growing.
I grow plants for a variety of reasons: to feed the body and to nourish the soul, for novelty and nostalgia, to challenge the elements and often my patience, but mostly it’s for the joy in seeing them flourish. Yet, my garden is much more than plants; it is a place of fantasy and a world of surprises. It would be lacking if it were without the wildlife and weather that so often frustrates as I strive for perfection. Even Darth, the neighbourhood cat, has a place in my yard, except when he visits the front flowerbed with his favourite magazine. More than anything, my garden provides me with an unlimited opportunity to be creative. Seeing a new climber bloom for the first time over a newly constructed trellis gives me a double sense of satisfaction.
I’ve been working on my current garden for the past fifteen years. It’s my third, and I suspect it may not be my last. I doubt it will ever be complete, and neither should it be. I don’t believe a garden is ever finished until the gardener is. As I often tell my children, you’ll know I’ve been gardening too long when what is being planted is me.
In the weeks ahead, I will be sharing my triumphs and my failures (my Brugmansia is amazing, but my Himalayan blue poppies are a flop) as I attempt to evoke the spirit of gardening. I hope to be informative and entertaining for both the experienced and the novice gardener, providing local answers to local problems. If you need the solution to a particular problem, and think I can help, write or email and I will share it here.
Meanwhile, if anyone is looking for me, I’ll be in the garden.
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