A Lazy Gardener

I’m not a big believer in the New Year’s resolution, never have been.  I’ve made the odd half-hearted pronouncement over the years but by the second week of January, the allure of change has lost its shine and I’m working on a six-pack of beer rather than my six-pack abs.  This year however, as I look out the kitchen window to the tangled expanse of my drooping gardens, I can feel the seed of commitment taking root in the back of my mind, saying “do more with what you have.” 

Every spring—armed with a shovel and visions of grandeur—I go out into the backyard to extend the garden beds.  I change the shape of this bed and widen that one.  I dig up a little grass here and a little grass there.  It is a slow and determined process of transformation, my little ritual.  I’ve rarely met a plant I didn’t like—truth be told I’m a shameless plant whore—and from May through August I come home from nearly every outing with at least one new purchase to add to my newly invented beds.  I put in a new plant here and there.  I fantasize about the day when there’s not a square inch of lawn, just endless gardens to stroll through and discover.     

But the view today from my kitchen window gives me pause.  The water garden is nearly overflowing from the rain and I can hear the pump labouring away through a build-up of algae.  The tomato plants are black with wet, sagging under the weight of the last stray fruits that we didn’t pick before the frost.  The jasmine is making a break for the neighbour’s yard, in need of a tether and a serious talking-to!  I can’t even look at the morning glory!  I am a neglectful caretaker; in short, a lazy gardener.  So this year I resolve to do more with what I have. 

There is a certain amount of pleasure to be had from following through and getting things done.  A born procrastinator, I have difficulty staying focused and that sense of release and accomplishment at a job well done is often lost to me.  Instead I’m haunted by the slew of half-finished projects and abandoned masterpieces scattered throughout the house, and so it is with the garden too.  Everywhere I look there are signs of my lack of follow-through: the workbench I never quite got around to organizing, the overflowing seed cupboard I never quite got around to cleaning, and the overgrown grapevines I never quite got around to pruning. 

My rap sheet goes on and on—I am guilty as charged!  I throw myself at the mercy of the court, give me one more season to make good.  I promise not to make more gardens until I’ve learned how to make better use of the ones I have.  I will divide all the overgrown plants and donate the excess to a local community garden.  I will weed and water on a regular basis and put the hose away when I’m done.  I will leave a bucket of sand by the mudroom door to clean my dirty tools.  I will sort my seeds or better yet, get around to planting them!  I will not buy more plants, I will not buy more plants, I will not buy more plants.

I think that the reason resolutions often fail is that they are simply hard to keep. Change is difficult and admitting that a little change might be in order is even more difficult sometimes, but I think this might be my year!  I've found my resolve and I know what I have to do—I may not make it through the season without a plant purchase or garden redesign, but I will make an effort to do more with what I have.  I'll keep you posted... ; )