Gardening as Therapy

My mom was always the type of woman to plant annual plants. She liked impatiens, those were definately her favorite..but she was never one to plant perennials. Being stuck smack dab in the middle of two outrageously amazing gardeners, I'm really growing a true appreciation for my garden. It's no longer about instant gratification. I'd rather watch my garden mature over the years than see one spectacular garden right now. It's happening though. According to the neighborly "expects", my space is adorable. I know, sounds like little teddy bears, doesn't it? But really, with a yard the size of mine, that's a great compliment. This year, I took over yet another bed on the side of the house..oh how meager the hydrangeas are right now, but I'm sure that by next year, they'll really be spectacular. In the back, I've planted a purple smoke bush. When it arrived, I swore it was dead. It was merely a twig with some roots, but alas I gave it a chance..it's starting to leaf! Such a big accomplishment! I can't wait to watch it grow!

I swear..there is nothing more therapeutic than gardening all day in the summer. You start the day with big ambitions..some weeding to do, some planting, some grass cutting, mulch..and by the end of the day you get to see the fruits of your labor. I spent today in my garden. Me and my garden simply connecting on another level. Perfect placement of the plants..wedding the entire alleyway between houses that I'm slowly taking over with Hostas, picking the hideous daisy weeds one by one until there are no more..and crocs, covered in dirt, so easily rinsed off with the hose and the cool water. I swear there is dirt on my face and in my hair, but who cares? Summer is here and my garden looks fabulous!