Summer's here at last! The weather is fabulous, sunny and warm and breezy. The palm fronds are fluttering high overhead, making a swooshing sound like the ocean. Everyone's out in shorts and tshirts, birds are singing, cats are leaping, and all's right with the world.
At least until the snails discover my new plants.
Yes, that's right, I've been down to the garden supply center. I'm not really keen on gardening, generally speaking, because it involves coping with bugs and snails and other yucky things. I like flowers, though. So I cleared out the horrid begonias which had gone all stalk-y and wan, viciously cropped the bushes down to twigs, and routed my dog from her usual resting place. Dixie can sleep on the nasturtiums on the other side of the yard for all I care (they'll be the next to go, anyway). But this one corner of my tiny backyard gets good, direct sun and I am going to grow celosia at last.
You have to understand, I tried growing flowers in my Nashville yard. It was deeply shaded, unfortunately, and limestone was always lurking about six inches under the topsoil, which meant nothing with a deep root system would survive, and the shallower roots tended to rot from standing water. Here, however, I have planter boxes and a drip watering system. I am gleeful. I have been reading my garden guides assiduously. I have excellent soil to work with, and a long growing period. Yes!
I can't go in for any kind of rapid ground cover but lobelia and silver sedum will do nicely for edging. I don't want a lot of tall flowers because the boxes aren't very deep and I'd like some variety. I bought the celosia, some dwarf mimulus, my favorite variety of lantana, and a single euphorbia. Everything is in shades of flame: purple, orange, gold, dark red. Nothing pink or fuschia or lavender, just deep jewel tones to contrast with the dark green of the surrounding trees on the condominium grounds. I'll be able to see it from where I type.
If everything takes, I'll probably add snapdragon, lupine, wallflowers, and geraniums. I long to grow quite a few things, but I realize they'd take up too much space until I finish clearing out the old stuff. I still have a small shaded area to plan which has a very pretty little purple violet in it at the moment, along with a sickly camellia bush which did not flower, and the ubiquitous fleshy pink begonias (what was that previous owner thinking, anyway? Her color schemes were awful). And eventually I'll splash out on containers and work on the perfect arrangement of trailers, spikes, and fillers. I shall invoke the heaven-man-earth trilogy of flower arrangements. My garden will be a thing of beauty all summer long.
And I will take up the role of Shiva-Gardener, destroyer of snails and slugs and aphids. "Begone, foul pests. I am the goddess of bug death and your time has COME!" I will descend from the sky, many-armed, malevolent, with bags of ladybugs, shakers of salt, and soapy water. I will practice Bug-gee until all of the pestilent invaders have fled my wrath.
Gardening is so violent. You just thought it was a quiet little hobby, didn't you?
