|Fin peeping through tomatoes and sunflowers|
I am obviously a more-is-better kind of gardener. I can not seem to pull out anything that is green and alive including some weeds. I love jungle feeling I get from a closely packed garden.
A few weeks ago friends visited us from Tucson. Dry, desert-y Tucson. When the family headed out to our back yard my friend turned to me and said concernedly "Diane, this looks like a crazy old woman's garden!"
Not "Wow, what talented gardener created this lush garden?" Not "Wow, what an abundance of fresh food you must have."
Just a crazy old woman's garden. Crazy? Old??
Of course I went through the various stages of grief. Denial, anger, depression and then finally acceptance. Yes, perhaps my borage is a little bit out of control, and yes sunflowers and holly locks are coming up in the middle of the few walking paths are still passable, but they are flowers after all.
Today when I made a scrambled egg on bread with thick slices of Brandywine tomato, mayo with fresh chives, I didn't care one smidgen about being a crazy old gardener.
|Borage. Do not plant this plant unless you would like it around in abundance for years to come|
|Volunteer Holly Hocks|
|Raised beds with flowers around outside|