Time Flies When You're Having Fun

Amaryllis up close and personal 

The old saying "Time Flies When You're Having Fun" is the other side of "Time Slogs When You're Not Having Fun".  

It's been a year plus where each day can feel like slogging through mud up to my neck and other days where I fell asleep wondering what actually happened because it went so fast.  It's called "the grief process" and mental and physical exhaustion.

Without going into too many details, my husband had his cancer come back for the third time, it was a long horrible ride ending in his being in home hospice and his death in October 2018.  I was his primary care giver.  It was hard - enough explanation.

2018, my garden got out of hand -or- went to hell in a hand basket.

2019, my garden was often ignored -or- developed a life of it's own.

2020, I'm hoping for a workable plan -or- something - maybe.

Because I'm the gardener and my husband was the heavy lifter, the balance of duties was thrown sadly off.  Not the kind of whine that he left me wanting but the kind of realization I simply couldn't do it all and still have this kind of garden.

• What do I get rid of with a clear heart?
• What do I modify to keep in a different form?
• When do I find help to do for me?
• What do I learn to live with but isn't as perfect as I want?

All these are good questions at any time in life or in anyone's garden.  Made a little harder because I was still in my "I'll just add one more flower bed over here" mode of gardening.

Then there was that period in time where some of my concerned family thought I should sell this high maintenance old property and move to a new little place in town.  That stopped my gardening until I came to a decision.

And even though I've decided to stay here for the time being, I needed to factor in the implications of a move someday and/or making the yard attractive to a future buyer.  

Cut walnut tree that was dangerously
close to the garage.

Some decisions were made for me:  The 2018-19 extremely harsh winter killed or damaged quite a few trees.  Not only did I have them removed but a few others that always dropped limbs, caused maintenance problems or were just bad choices for their area.  It let me know I could make good gardening decisions.

I've always had trouble culling poor performers as it seems like offing a relative.  Last summer my cull strength hit optimum and I realized how so many of those problem children actually made my gardening harder. 

This year, I'll be lifting some favorite plants and giving away or killing everything else in those beds.  When I return the favorites, I'll add a good layer of mulch.  (My mulching philosophy is another article for another time.)  This will make garden life going forward much easier.  Pulling that same invasive over and over every year is a foolish time and energy waster.  I swear if I do ever move, I will never (write that down in red pen) ever plant another ground cover. But that's another whole article, too.


Well, that's the plan - loose and uncommitted as it is.  But, it gives me hope and hope is certainly a comforting balm.