I have abandoned over thirty years worth of gardening work at Wildwood. Every time I go home I work too hard try to make up for lost time. Mr. Flower tries to get me to relax. We did sit a spell in the gliders out in the sunshine one afternoon. Neither one of us can sit still for long.

This is my second spring away from home. The spring before that I could barely walk, so technically my garden has been neglected for three growing seasons. I am amazed it is not worse. My husband tries to manage the worse spots. I noticed scattered piles of last year’s dead foliage. I appreciate his efforts.

I am not strong enough to tackle the garden rehab myself. I am still working on my own healing. I feel overwhelmed looking at all that needs to be done back at home. My husband has too much responsibilities of his own to pick up my slack. Judge me if you must. I am in survival mode. It was me or everything else. I chose me.

I silently walked the deck perimeter each morning with my coffee. I peered over the railing to see which plants were sending upgreen shoots. It was a bit liberating to see needs and not try take ownership of them. I know my limits. Set-backs are too brutal to risk.

I will brag that my gardens have good bones. My plants were well-chosen, well-placed and well-planted. They are surviving without my hovering. That was  always my goal.

I am glad I made it back home for a garden check-up. I will try to get back more often now that there should be less snow to imprison me. This last set of blizzards made me rethink my present location for the first time ever.

Weeds will always win whether I am fighting them constantly or not.  I may eventually have to hire some help while I am home. Weeds winning does not make me sad.

Nature will ALWAYS WIN.

That is how it should be.

FLOWER