I have complained before about how my frequent moves in the last ten years have made it impossible to really get a garden going. At the last house–the one I moved into shortly after I started this blog–I saw three summers of garden and learned a lot about plant choice, plant spacing, and patience. And that’s about the only thing keeping me from utter despair with my gardens this season, because my… all those tiny plants, struggling just to put down roots? Heartbreaking.
Fortunately, I was able to transplant some mature plants from a friend’s garden this time, and they are the saving grace. They’re bigger and more confident, and fill in the empty beds with just a little bit of noticeable life. Like these irises… nothing spectacular in the way of irises, but oh how they make my heart melt! Look at them, mummy’s little bloomers!
And then there are the scarce plants that were already here. This big clump of chives pre-dates me at the house. Last summer, Sparks and I added four more tiny chive plants and four tiny sage plants. This year, they have some roots and some confidence, and are growing at a nice clip.
Thank you, Laura–Thank you, Diana’s-mom–Thank you, clump of chives.