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. . . leaning over every blade of grass there is an angel saying, 'Grow, grow, grow. Marianne Williamson, Illuminata
Moving into a new garden is just as exciting as moving into a new house. It was December when my husband and I moved into a large home set on eighty acres of land. The flower beds and boxes that surround our house were buried under a blanket of snow. When spring came and it was time to them mine. It felt like a treasure hunt because I had no idea what was planted in any of the beds.
There are eleven boxes and seven large terra cotta pots built into a shelf just below the railing on each side of the cedar deck that lined the east and west side of the house. That first spring it was an easy decision to put annuals in the boxes.
The terra cotta pots spend most of their time in the cool shade of the nearby trees. I chose bright salmon impatiens surrounded by white dew drops that would drape over the sides of the pots as they grew. I lovingly filled the pots with new soil and over-planted them with the impatiens. To my husband's horror, I cut the impatiens down halfway, snipping off all the flowers. I promised him that it was good for them and that the impatiens would blossom again and be even fuller in a few weeks.
Next, I planted bright red geraniums in the boxes along the front deck. Each rectangular box was just big enough to hold three geraniums and three or four white petunias. The white plastic markers with planting instructions suggested giving them more room but I was aiming for the feel of abundance. I could imagine fluffy red geranium heads bobbing above white petunias that spilled out over the edge of the boxes. Once again, my husband watched in dismay as I gently pinched off all the showy white petunia blooms and let them fall to the grass.
The front of the house was surrounded by hostas. Just in front of the entrance was a long narrow flower bed surrounded by rocks. A carpet of various succulents began growing there. To the left of the narrow bed was a semi-circular bed that led up into the grass of a small knoll that was shaded by a huge white birch tree. That bed obviously held lamb's ear, lavender and hostas. To the right of the front door was another 150 square foot flower bed that had been built into a hillside. Flat brown sandstones outlined the bed in a kidney shape. I had no idea what was in it! Early in the spring I watched for any sign of daffodils or tulips in the big bed. A couple of daffodils popped
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. . . leaning over every blade of grass there is an angel saying, 'Grow, grow, grow. Marianne Williamson, Illuminata
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Memoirs: My great, true, personal garden story
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