Cindy McIntyre's Blog: Gardening Ain't for Sissies

Foxglove, columbine, heliopsis and roses in front yard

I was going to just give up, to surrender. The garden didn't get "put to bed" properly before I left for Texas in mid-October, and spring came so early that the weeds were out of control when I returned. But after the first rush of irises, dame's rockets, poppies, and wild mustard, I noticed the perennials and bulbs I nurtured last year pushing through the chaos. My protective instincts kicked in, and I started ripping out three-foot tall grasses and invasive flowers by the roots. Soon the lawn was lined with weed piles, which I let dry for a day or two and then ran the mower over them. Along with the cut grass they made a nice mulch for the blueberry patch and flower bed presided over by the totem Edmund.

Edmund the Garden Totem; Foxglove

Poor Edmund. I swapped him for an original hand-painted photograph, and I liked his beech face. I should have chosen a cedar totem, however, for he had been harboring carpenter ants which attracted pileated woodpeckers that fall, and apparently every fall since. His smile persists through the indignities, however, and with it he will eventually molder and crumble.

Clematis flower

I have two acres, and like the greedy glutton I am, I kept adding flower beds and expanded the veggie garden since I moved in seven years ago. I lusted after peonies and poppies, delphinium and wisteria. I scattered sweet william seeds and transplanted home-grown foxglove. I added dwarf daylilies to the driveway island and spent $70 on five blueberry bushes that give me $5 worth of berries every year. I wanted Beauty and more Beauty. When finances became tight, I made do with seeds and a few seedlings from the high school horticulture program, and cuttings from my wintered-over geraniums. Besides I had most of the perennials I needed. Now all I needed to do is maintain all this Beauty.

Tiger Swallowtail on Dame's Rocket phlox

Gardening isn't for sissies. It's for people who will get their knees black with dirt, and will go around for months with soil stuck under their fingernails. It's for people who bang their foreheads on nails on an old fence post, and cut their hands bloody yet keep on pulling weeds. Gardening is for people who will scratch their arms tending roses and endure painful stabs pruning wicked barberry. And of course it's for those who can tolerate mosquito and blackfly bites, squishing cucumber beetles, plucking plump hornworms off the tomatoes, and getting tangled in bird netting over the strawberries.

Siberian irises around frog pond; lupines and yellow wild cinquefoil

After the heartbreak of late blight ruining every tomato last year, I feared loving and losing again. But I bought a six-pack of the reliable Jet Star and one cherry heirloom tomato, willing to take the risk. No peas or spinach this year, and little of anything else that wasn't already growing such as garlic, sage, Jerusalem artichoke, and my beloved strawberries. There's the farmer's market for the rest.

Rambling Roses

But my flowers, I can't abandon. The early spring gave me my first baby peaches and wisteria blooms, and rambling roses more full of blooms than I ever thought possible! Even the rosa rugosa gets to keep its flowers, because the horrid Japanese beetles haven't hatched yet. If you've ever seen all your rosebuds covered with the greedy little bastards, you know for sure gardening isn't for sissies.