Strong Opinions on Things That Grow

I absolutely love digging in the dirt.

I love gardening. I love potting plants. I love weeding. I love watching my perennials poke through the earth year after year. I cheer them on and marvel at the miracle that is THE JOY OF PERENNIALS.

So this weekend, with weather in the 80s (never mind the gale force winds), of course I got out and did a little work. The last two weekends had already been spent weeding, mulching, trimming, and just generally cleaning up what I ignored all fall and winter. Stephen tackled the 6-foot growth of poison ivy (thank you, Mrs. Dorothy) a couple weeks ago, so I even felt brave enough to tackle that back bed, where we have some peonies sprouting. I will say, with all the crazy stuff Mrs. Dorothy allowed to take place, she did do some fun plantings which I now get to enjoy.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

In this post, I simply wanted to share with y'all the marvel that is the sudden arrival of spring in northern Illinois. It's a joy, to be sure, after a long, hard Chicago winter, and everyone eagerly anticipates it for weeks before--BAM!!--like lightning it comes. The trees bloom, the flowers sprout, the leaves unfurl, all within a time span of just a few weeks, and everyone walks around in a daze, completely flabbergasted that they have, in fact, made it through another winter.

I am one of those fools wandering around, except I'm also sneezing, because the blooming and unfurling makes my allergies go into hyperdrive. A small price to pay, in my opinion.

Before I share my humble landscaping with you, you should witness how I channeled my gardening urges when we lived in our apartment. We lived in this apartment in Oxford, Mississippi for the first two years of our married life, and boy, I never let the confines of a concrete patio get in my way.

Exhibit A: A planter full of geraniums, petunias, vinca vine, and spikes that were still going strong in October.

Exhibit B: I strung five painter's cans full of wave petunias from a chain across the width of our patio. Walkers would stop to point and stare. I was proud of this.

Exhibit C: Pretty much everything else I could grow, I did. I like petunias, can you tell? They are hardy and could take the western exposure of our Mississippi apartment.

(Note: The stuff in the green container is basil. My lands. It almost overtook our patio.)

(And yes, all three of these pictures were taken in October. I was still wearing shorts.)

Okay, enough reminiscing. Here's what's going on now, in Grown-Up Homeowner Land:

I hang coconut-lined window boxes on

the front of our 60's-era wrought iron

porch railing. I like to think it covers

the curlicue heart designs.

I still like geraniums and vinca vines.

Oh, and there is alyssum in there, too.

That is a recent love of mine.

Much fewer planters than back in the day.

More alyssum and vinca, plus spikes.

I've limited my annuals to my planters.

Cheaper that way.

I should note here the sheer stubborn will and back-breaking labor it took us last spring to get our flower beds looking, how you say, pretty. Mrs. Dorothy had allowed large, ugly yew hedges to overtake everything, and we took most of those out, using a chain hooked to my father's Explorer. (They had been there awhile and had gotten very comfortable.) As you can see from this next picture, we left one or two yews on either side, just because they were there and established and were SO STINKIN' HARD TO GET OUT. I cut them down and have let them get kind of hairy--I'm not a fan of the boxed-hedge look. So we went nuts last year and got several spirea, barberry, a weigela, two shrub roses, and lots and lots of hostas. Mrs. Dorothy had, fortunately, let two big, beautiful azalea bushes reach amazing heights, and after a little trimming, they worked perfectly.

Last, but certainly not least, Mrs. Dorothy was a fan of rocks. In her flower bed. Tons of rocks. Literally, tons. This is a phenomenon here in Illinois. I have never witnessed the use of rocks in flower beds before here, and it makes me want to scream. I thought pine needles in the South was weird enough, but rocks? Come on, people. So we worked to get a large percentage of the rocks out and covered up the rest (it will take years, literally, to get them all out) with nice, cheap cedar mulch. Oh, and we also have a huge rock pile behind our garage. Anyone need rocks?

You should also know that I have a deep and abiding love of hostas. They are perennial, shade-loving, no-frills, and not fussy. They grow more and more every year, and they always have intelligent conversation to interject at any gathering. It goes without saying that I have no patience for delicate, retiring flowers, like tulips or daffodils. You can hate me if you want. That's okay.

Future plans for the front beds include edging the, well, edges (I don't like rocks, plastic, or anything else for edging--just give me a nice, deep groove) and planting even more hostas to make a very distinct border.

The hostas have been growing

perceptibly every day.

I am so glad they came back.

My new herbs. The basil, in

the big pot, is once again taking over.

That large concrete triangle is,

presumably, a remnant of the huge

antenna that once graced the

back portion of our home.

Finally, a salute to Mrs. Dorothy. I have no patience for planting and caring for tulips and daffodils, but I can certainly appreciate someone else's work that keeps coming up every spring. She also planted peonies, roses, and mint. The peonies and roses keep me smiling. The mint has taken over the back of our house. I might need therapy because of my constant battle with the mint.

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you have any suggestions for shade-loving plants that are hardy and happy like hostas. The north side of my house needs some decoration along the border.