Nearly every spring since we have had our own home, I’ve attempted to plant some sort of flowering vegetation. This year was no different. I started early. Mid-March. I went scouting for the best looking flowers and gardening deals. I looked at plants, flowers, vegetable plants, bushes, shrubs and even trees. I didn’t buy anything, just looked because it was still too cold at night for anything to survive and look nice in the next day.
Last week I broke down and bought two clay pots. I’d never had one and I dig how they look, and well, they’re a hue of orange. Those who know me know I can’t pass up much of anything in orange. They sat on the front steps for a few days until I could decide what I wanted in them. Off to Pinterest I went “shopping” for plants to fit my full sun, beat-you-down heat on the west side of my house. Shaun kept pestering me to get the flowers because he wanted to help. In the mean time, I enlisted the boys to pick up rocks for the bottom of my pots and I think Shaun had the most fun when we finally got the rocks in the pots and put some dirt on them.
I finally bought some flowers, but the next few days after I got them it looked stormy, so I just kept them on the kitchen table for a few days. Shaun kept wanting to “smell the roses” and checked on them a few times while the were in the house. Last Saturday the flowers finally made it in the pots. Again, I enlisted Shaun for help, letting him decide which color went where. I thought they looked pretty grand. Snapped a pic and put it on social media.
I had a few marigolds left so I found a place for them in my flowerbed near the front door. I’d also been pining to move some iris out of the horse pasture to the front of the house, so I moved a few up there.
Later, I went to check on my flowers… I really shouldn’t have looked. My oh, so helpful dogs had managed to break off nearly all the marigold flowers and the tops of the iris. I was fuming. When I went back in the house I told my husband I wanted a BB-gun for Mother’s Day. “Why?” he asked. “Because I’m going to pelt those dogs when I catch them in the flowers.” He was not impressed.
Yesterday when Shaun and I came home from town and surveyed the flowerbed it was still looking pretty haggard. Me, hoping a little watering would spruce things up, I went in to change clothes. No sooner than Mom left to head home, she came back in the house and said, “One of your flower pots is knocked over.” I replied, “What? How? It was just fine.” Out I went to survey the damage, and repair it. I put the plants back in the pot and prayed they’d survive. Later while watering with the boys, the older dog of our pair kept going back and forth in front of the house. It was as if we were invading her territory. Once she got too close and I sprayed her with the hose. It kept her out for a while, but it’s not a permanent solution.
So, Dear Flowers, forgive me. I have the best of intentions, and I will do my best to keep you alive. Please bear with my dogs and my boys. They don’t know what they are doing a lot of the time. All I ask is for you to stay alive and look pretty. Sincerely, a well-intended, wanna-be gardener.