Short But Sweet: Attempted Gardening

It occurred to me the today that what I said about cooking and gardening, I also used to tell myself about mothering — I wasn’t very good at it, so I just shouldn’t do it. Could it be that because I’m feeling like a better mother and a better cook, I’m also more open to planting things?

It’s taken me almost seven years of living in my house and watching the seasons pass to figure out when my hydrangeas, azaleas and rhododendron bloom (hell, it took me a few years to figure out what the heck they were called). I planted some tulip bulbs a few autumns ago, and they’ve come up stronger and stronger each spring.

So in the little planting bed in my front yard, I planted an impatiens plant I “won” at a luncheon, and just now a few other perennials (which, I now know, you plant once and watch bloom every year, if all goes well). I don’t actually know what they’re called, but they are pink and look like wildflowers. I also planted a little shrub with orangey flowers. I don’t know what it’s called, either. But I do know they all like sun and light, which they’re going to get a lot of there.

And the little oak tree kit someone gave us as a condolence gift when my dad died has sprouted a seedling. It needs to stay in its little pot for 45-60 days, but then we can plant it outside. I saved a spot for it.

How amazing would that be, if I actually grew a tree?

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