Warning: three months ago I would have just about killed everything under my watch. GARDENING, y’all, I’m talking about gardening. Don’t get wound tight. Seriously, though, I couldn’t understand how both of my parents and my sisters totally understood the science of simply keeping plants alive. I’d water too much, I wouldn’t water at all. I’d leave them out in the sun too long, I’d basically tie them up in a black garbage bag. I’d fertilize the right amount, or I’d just short of dump the whole container of blue chemical on them. What on earth was I doing and how come I couldn’t get it right? It just wasn’t my thing. I just wasn’t made to get along with nature, I guess. Plants were happier, more lively (understatement of the century), and just plain better off without my touch. Oh well, on to the next hobby.
…Then my husband and I bought a house. Enter hallelujah chorus. Suddenly my interest in gardening peaked. I wanted flowers and I wanted them badly. Our back deck needed some C-O-L-O-R. Homeowner’s pride, according to my Mom.
Housewarming gift(s) #1 were two gorgeous hibiscus bushes from my Mom and aunt B. Deep breath. I can do this. I’m not going to let these babies die (hibiscus are p-p-p-pricey!). The tag says full sun. Check! The deck gets nothing but sun. Hot, 12-hours-a-day, full-exposure sun. We’re on to something. The tag says to keep them moist. Mental note: water every day. The tag says fertilize monthly. They include a scooper for a reason, Joan, don’t get chemical happy. My hibiscus are gorgeous! Every day I notice a new bud and I’ve got the most amazing, coral pink blooms as big as my palms. Extra excitement: my hibiscus look even better than my parents’ (sorry Mom)!
Next up: planters. Don’t laugh, I’m not confident enough to plant in a ground bed yet. I found some perfect rectangle planters to sit on our deck banister, bought some Miracle-Gro potting soil (side note: Costco’s got an amazing deal on a giant bag of this), and went to town. Marigolds, Celosia, Vinca, Impatiens, Verbena, Zinnias, and Viola now litter our back deck and front porch. They’re blossoming, blooming, trailing, volunteering, and in all their glory are big, beautiful, but most of all, mine. And you know what? Caring for and watering our plants is quickly becoming one of the most enjoyable and relaxing parts of my entire day.
Me. This girl. The one with (remember?) zero gardening talent.