Rockwall, TX (April 25, 2024) – I can see no way that we will get through the season without me writing about the garden, so let’s do this now. The Mildscape is in glorious full bloom in the third week of April. How can I neglect mentioning vibrant Roses, sweet Dianthus, Cat Mint tipped in a purple haze, Lemon Thyme round, mounded, and beginning to bloom the tiniest flowers. Summer Phlox are just about to burst into bloom and heavenly daze – that Peggy Martin Rose is a beauty! So many perennials and roses are blooming, that while walking through the garden, the sweetest, delicate scent wafts round. Bob Kilgore is already spending a good deal of time pawing, rubbing on, and just lying underneath his Abelias, with somewhat of a drunken demeanor about him. Their aura drives him mad. (I feel I must remind y’all that Bob Kilgore is our kitty, not my husband, for good measure.)
The garden is not without work unless you have a gardener. Around here the title is all mine. It’s nearly impossible for me to sit outdoors and just enjoy the lovely surround without leaping up to grab clippers or acquiring dirty hands from pulling an errant runner of grass or a weed. Still, this spring has been the least laborious in the three-year history of The Mildscape. Planting perennials amidst Drift Roses, flowering bushes, evergreen bushes, and trees, is key for the ambience to stretch through the seasons; with layers of texture and colors, and a few annuals popped in each year for extra splash!
Ironically, after starting to write about this year of least effort, the fates (make that the pests) have stepped into the garden. The other morning, I wandered out for a close check, after being challenged to produce photos of flaws in the garden. Believe me, The Mildscape is not perfect, but I’m puffed up enough to post photos of the pretty things, not the ugly. To my dismay, I discovered the lower innards of two roses being chewed bare, I feared the bagworms I battled last summer were back to chow down. I grabbed a bottle of garden pesticide and plunged into the fray, in my flannel robe, spraying. Thank heavens I did not make the discovery in the front beds, as some of the neighbors already question my sanity. I foolishly believed I had eradicated them last year. I’d made my way through every bush, tree, and bloom in the garden last July, plucking each bagworm (ugh) I discovered, dropping them in soapy water, and spraying to get rid of them. But here they are again. Fortunately, I’d had some forethought that I ought to do some preventative spraying and had just ordered more of the potion to keep the nasty boogers away. Hopefully I’ve contained the problem. I was bemoaning the temporary reduction in coral roses and reminded myself to look at the big picture. The big picture is lovely, and those two rose bushes will soon bounce back for blooming through the fall. Whenever I feel too heady about the loveliness in The Mildscape, I am brought to my knees by a pest or malady to keep me humble.
Though The Mildscape might appear an established garden, my twiddling with “infrastructure,” i.e. stones for pathways and borders, and trellises, etc., is never-ending. In early spring I try to do the bulk of transplanting and moving perennials, though there is an abundant Coreopsis crowding a spot now, that will be moved as soon as she has finished her first bloom. I have a space waiting just for her.
My planting is complete for the season – before the beginning of May. I have declared my statement of No More Plants (this season – an important caveat.) I’ve been to the nursery and other garden centers for gardening plunder, at least four times since, and have not purchased one new plant. That is unprecedented behavior, and I should be commended. Except, I stumbled across a forgotten, large terra cotta pot in the side yard yesterday, and now I’d like to fill it with a mix of plants for the front porch. Perhaps I could be granted just a small forbearance from my declaration. I was doing so well abstaining but there’s only so long a gardener can do it. (And I still have that five dollar off coupon for May. There’s no point in wasting that.)
When I indicate the work in the garden has been at a minimum, I’m probably making a huge understatement because there is still mulch to put down, deadheading, fertilizing, spraying fungicidal oil, stonework, trimming to keep the jungle at bay. Yesterday I had a pathway project I was chomping to get completed before hot weather sets in. I firmly told myself three hours max (to minimize the likelihood of exhaustion and pain.) When finished with the planned tasks, I sat to rest and looked at the time. Amazing. Done in two and one-half hours. Good call! Until my gardener brain set to spinning and I thought, I might as well use that other allotted half-hour. One hour and fifteen minutes later, I ceased toiling. Three hours later I was popping a couple of OTC tablets from the medicine cabinet to assuage the aches and pains. I do know it’s going to happen. My hubs knows it’s going to happen, and if he knows I’ll be working outdoors, valiantly implores me not to work too hard. I intend to go easy, really, I do.
Not everyone needs be the possessed gardener that I am. A small flowerbed is likely much wiser than my large undertaking. The work though, takes my mind and puts it on relax, thoughts spin away and I am left with simply the garden work. Good for the spirit.
My husband stands at our bedroom window, gazing out at The Mildscape, every morning before he heads off for work. This morning, he said “It’s sure pretty. I don’t know what all I am looking at out there, but it looks good!”
How quickly the seasons have passed in this place. It has been a stellar spring out in The Mildscape. Spring is a time of glory in everyone’s garden. I remain in awe of the flourishing flowers and plants. I was considering taking up needlework again, as it would be easier on the old body. I’d probably just embroider flowers anyway.
By Blue Ribbon News special contributor Sally Kilgore, resident of Fate. She is married to her long-time flame, Judge Chris Kilgore, (aka The B.O.B.) When not writing, gardening, filling in at the local flower shop or hanging out with grandkids, Sally devotes her time to serving Bob Kilgore, a well sized, Tuxedo cat with panache. Contact Sally at SallyAKilgore@gmail.com , and visit her website: SallyAKilgore.com
Kukka by Sally Kilgore: Blooming Crazy added by Melanie M on
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