There’s something almost sacred about working in your garden. Whether your garden space is big or small, none of that matters. It’s working with your hands and tending what you grow.
Yesterday I gently pulled little zinnia seedlings from the soil to thin them out and planted them elsewhere.
I also planted a bluish/purple clematis I bought last week at the nursery. You may recall that the dreadful winter weather killed my white one.
They had roses trained to look like trees, and I wanted one so bad since the winter also killed my gorgeous yellow rose bush. But I didn’t dare lift them because of my back. So I passed them by.
But I did, finally, find the pineapple sage Charlie likes to nibble on when his tummy is upset. I’d been on many trips looking for it and they didn’t yet have it in until the other day.
And I also got a lemon basil plant to put where the pineapple sage and the lemon verbena shares a pot/galvanized container. The lemon basil is hard to see from this angle.
Remember that lemon scented herbs are your friend. Because insects don’t like them. You can also repel moths, fleas, flies and mosquitoes with lavender.
So there are many good reasons to plant herbs in your garden space.
Just look at all that cheerful color on my patio.
Morning Glory Seedlings:
Below, next to the new clematis, is the galvanized tub full of morning glory seedlings.
They are sturdy and strong and reaching up toward the sun.
Mr. Concrete Man is so glad to have his hair/golden pennies back after the winter killed his off.
Can you believe I brought that bright blue egg-shaped garden art with me from Texas? Even more so, can you believe I haven’t managed to break it yet?
Yeah, me either.
My Zen Place:
This patio is my zen place. With the chimes tinkling and the birds singing up in the trees, it makes me grateful to be able to tend this little spot of mine.
The purpose of a Zen garden is to help quiet and focus your mind. Ponds in a Zen garden, for example, represent negative space, or the “nothingness” that is essential to Zen meditation.
In addition, the sound of dripping water is meant to remind you to exist in the moment with each drip.
I will soon have lots of blooming vines. And fill the air with fragrant perfume as only flowers can do.
I’m not planting veggies this year. Everything I planted last year I ended up not really being able to eat, so I passed on vegetable planting this year. And focused on flowers and vines and herbs instead.
It’s supposed to be 85 degrees today. And to think that last week I had the fireplace going to keep warm.