A thicket of weeds under my John Cabot rose bush.I am slowly coming to the realization that travelling and gardening don't mix. Unless one is retired, I am at a loss as to how both can be done well.
I have been abroad the past three summers out of four and I am totally overwhelmed by the depth, breadth and thickness of the weeds in my flowerbeds! I cannot keep up.
And the last thing I want to do with my jet-lagged body is get on my hands and knees to pull weeds the day after my plane touches down. Or even four days later.
I must admit my passion for gardening a big piece of property is waning. When we moved to this house 16 years ago, the yard was a blank canvas. With Joe's muscle power, I created large garden beds full of trees, shrubs and flowers both in the front and back of the house.
It took me a few years to do it, but I was (and still am) pleased with the result. I do love to sit under my gazebo and gaze out at my creation on a summer afternoon. Or snooze in the hammock under a tree. Or pick a bouquet of flowers to bring in the house or give to friends.
That part I love. The toil/sweat/back-breaking labour part? Uh, no. I have definitely lost the lovin' feelin' for that.
So my plan is to down-size my garden this fall. I'm going to dig most everything up and push back the beds to a more manageable size. I'll have fewer flowers and a bigger lawn, but that's okay. It's easier to mow the grass than it is to pull weeds.
One of my students brought some branches of witch hazel to school yesterday. I love its spidery, yellow, fragrant flowers. But those twigs made me stop in my tracks. I realized that I didn't know if my witch hazel shrub at home was in bloom or not. The one that grows right outside my front door!
