A few minutes ago, I went out into my front yard to take a picture of the blooms on my tree peony, somewhat battered with rain. It’s been pouring with rain for several days here and consequently everything is lush and green, with, in my case, the promise of bumper crops of dandelions and poison ivy to come.
I’m contemplating paying huge amounts of money to get my large and overgrown back yard cleaned up because I don’t have the time to do anything about it. Before I wrote, I used to garden. I enjoyed it. Most of the gardening that has to be done, here, however, is of the defoliation variety and after that I want things that will look after themselves. I’ve pretty much tamed the front but the back is a disaster.
I harbor sentimental feelings about gardens and particularly English gardens that have been cultivated for centuries. Here’s a shot of the gardens at The Vyne, a National Trust property I visited on my visit to England last month. It all looks so beautifully harmonious, the yellow of the daffodils floating above the blue of whatever the other flowers are. I believe the building in the background is a Tudor summer house.
So it’s something of a regret to me that I no longer have time to garden, other than the odd bit of mowing or pruning, maintenance that absolutely has to be done. I enjoy seeing the bulbs I planted come up and one day I hope to be able to look out onto the back yard without wincing.
One day, even, to go out into the back yard and not be bitten by rabid mosquitoes and without the fear of poison ivy. If only I had a sunny spot to grow tomatoes and basil. I’m ready. Here’s my pedicure, ready for summer living. Note the impeccable tidiness of my desk.
So what’s going on in your garden? Do you have time to garden and what are you growing? Go on, make me jealous.
And please come on over to Lucienne Diver’s blog where today I’m blogging about the judicial use of history in historicals.