Learning to Garden

I know little if anything about planting, gardens, flowers, plants, soil, etc. Thank goodness for friends.

I knew my patios needed some attention, plant wise, but I didn’t have a clue as to how to start nor what I wanted.

A friend, who has had experience with soil of the earth projects, joined me at the recent flower market/show/exhibition not to buy but to take pictures. That goal lasted past the second booth, and then we decided I needed more flowers, more pots, more color, more of everything we saw.

After several hours of gawking and pointing and deciding, we filled the trunk of a cab with pots of greenery and headed home in order to brighten up my patios.

As I mentioned, my friend Sunni knows about such things and I am less than a horticultural novice, so instructions started and the bending, digging, watering and dirt moving began in earnest.

I once prided myself in being able to lift and haul objects. That ‘once’ was 50 plus years ago, but I keep forgetting I’m no longer young, strong, or inclined to move heavy items from one place to another. My feeling: such activities are for youngsters whose backs have not been over used yet.

But no such strong backs were available so the two of us dragged, lifted, and woman-handled 400 pound bags of soil (perhaps those bags weren’t 400 pounds, but my 77 year old bones estimated that weight).

Sunni carefully demonstrated how to loosen the soil, pack the soil, then search for holes around the plants and fill them in so all the stressed out roots would feel at home nestled in this fresh dirt. One thing I have always wanted is for my flowers to feel at home and securely nestled.

Hours later, all the plants were comfortably settled into their new environment and adequately watered. I have been given strict orders to water these transplants each day, only after sticking my fingers in the soil surrounding the newbies and if my fingers come back with dust and dirt then WATER. If mud surrounds my manicured nails, I could skip watering for a day.

This sounds so simple and easy unless you have dogs who love to play in fresh, wet soil and dismantle carefully transplanted greenery. But that is a story we shall save for another day.

Just know that both patios are now sprouting lovely geraniums and some other plant–name unknown., and I await the summer infestation of grasshoppers that decimated my garden last year. But for a few months, I will admire my handiwork and ask the sky gods to bring rainy nights and sunny days.