The garden has gone to seed but hope springs eternal

Not too long ago, I used to garden. Ask any gardener who will confirm, there's nothing like getting down and dirty working the soil with your hands. It's probably a flash-back to the time as children when we spent our summer days revelling in the dirt and sandbox. As mentioned, gardening is now an activity discussed in the past tense.

It's been three years since we sold our house and went condo and I'm still afflicted with pangs of abandonment. Not that the garden was a showplace out of House and Garden or anything but it was mine and we had an understanding: I would plant stuff and it would grow, maybe. It took me years to cultivate the three rose bushes in the back yard and when they finally produced blooms, I felt like a new mother revelling in the delight of her new offspring. My favorite was the tangerine florabunda that never failed to produce at least one flowering, while the pink hybid tea gave me a few token buds in a good year. We had a combative relationship to say or write the least. As you can tell - I'm feeling sentimental and missing them all.

Having moved into the same neighborhood, I frequently make a point of passing by the house and glance out of the car window at the new plant additions or demises. Although the house is no longer ours, I feel a sense of responsibility as to their welfare. In retrospect, it would have been better to keep them in memory. In order to cut back on the cost of annuals, perennials were planted over time in the hope they would fill in the spaces. The rock garden was now covered entirely with wood chips with no sign of my plethora of growing plants, while the rock garden shrubs were transformed into small trees. It's their house now I tell myself wondering if my beloved roses are still in the land of the living.

These days my horticultural endeavors are relegated to balcony gardening having brought along my containers and flower boxes, which are filled to capacity with annuals in the summer. It's not the same but I'm still occupied with dead-heading the flowers and watering non-stop since the earth in containers require freqent watering. Two grecian urns were also added that are also filled with an assortment of flowers. Our condo is located near the river where our municipality focuses on planting natural species that are common to this type of area, are visually attractive, yet retain the soil.

It's winter and I'm planning for summer cultivation, perhaps adding some mini tomatoes. Maybe I'll go all out and try a small rose bush, knowing from personal experience that roses make slaves of their cultivators. I'm used to it! When it's all said and done, a gardener is always a gardener, even on a balcony.

The garden has gone to bed

Normally at this time of the year I would be busily occupied with preparing my garden for its winter siesta. This would include my usual season angst of having to cut back all the remaining blooms, even though they still provide a splash of color to the otherwise brown and shrivelled up annuals that gave up the fight. Planting fall bulbs...applying fall fertilizer... The usual.

Since one year ago, the fall to-do list is no longer applicable since we are now enjoying the benefits of condo living. No longer is the responsibility of ensuring the perennials survival over the winter is in my hands. The new owner can now deal with the guilt that arrives in Spring when the thaw reveals those that didn't make it through the winter. It's somebody else's responsbility now.

As an avid but frustrated gardener, my efforts now focus on patio gardening...or patio planting. In the Spring I joined the masses hitting the gardening centres to purchase flowers and plants but my focus was on which species would survive living in urns. We bought four hanging planters containing flowering plants that were already in the midst of a blooming boom. Three survived but there was one failure, which was due to the placement of the plant directly above the barbeque. Surprisingly, the plant didn't die, which would have been easier to accept along with the accompanying guilt, but instead kept growing leaves and leaves and... It's as if it was saying: 'please don't take me down! See? I can still give you pretty leaves!' The guilt just never ends!

The best results came from our urns that absolutely thrived due to a perfect balance of light and sunlight thanks to the overhang from the balcony above. Their success is due to the purchase of the special mix of earth created specifically for urns and boxes. Never realized how important a role that earth can make in flower beds and if only I had paid more attention to this aspect in my garden... However, life is full of could-have's, would have's and should-have's for gardeners. Right?

We also brought along our wood flower boxes that played host to a cornucopia of lush blooms, which over-flowed the sides and stuck out of the balcony rails. Anybody walking by and looking up at them would have gasped... Okay maybe not gasped but would have been very impressed with the display.

Unfortunately, it's that time to say goodbye since the stalks are now thin and "leggy" and suffering from a seasonal fungus that can only be cured by a return to the earth from which they came. There is no guilt since I know everything was done to ensure their longevity for the summer. Kind of a reciprocal relationship. I'm already planning for next year. Maybe some tomatoes might be a challenge... Radishes...and herbs. Condo gardening is flower raising without the guilt. At least so far but then we're still in the early stages. There's always next year.