Coffee.  Garden.  Coffee.  Does a good morning need anything else?  ~Betsy Cañas Garmon

Standing on my deck looking out at the enchanted forest with coffee in hand, today was that day when the poor old bush/shrub/wannabe flowering something had to go.  I’ve been trying to help it flourish since Mama Blue Jay had her babies there four years ago (https://www.ordinarylegacy.com/word/2009/07/05/pause-point-the-blue-jay-legacy/) but it just has not cooperated.  Jeanette told me long ago not to feed the dead stuff and usually I listen, but not this time.  I had a sentimental attachment to this poor old, light starved, only bloom at the top excuse for a flowering something. I can’t blame it; it was planted long ago too close to the building by people who had to use up all the plants that came on the truck.  I’m sure of it.

It was ready to go, the roots were easy to chop through, the soil loosened up around it and with a bit of push and pull all twelve feet of it came down.  I dragged it into the enchanted forest so that it could be reclaimed by the grubs and woodpeckers.  Its smaller twin went too.  I planted the tree that Muriel and Martina brought me and made a little cage for it so the landscapers, should they find their way around to the back of my building, didn’t stomp it to death.  Raked all along the edge of the enchanted forest and cleaned up my almost visible shade garden.

And then that thing happened that always happens when I’m sweating and dirty and my hands are starting to hurt…I become obsessed with the next thing and keep going.  It was the perfect day to keep going; early this morning when I started it was in the 40s.  It smelled like spring, that combination of dew and soil and growing things.  After my third latte and a bit of breakfast with Muriel there was no stopping me.  I was fueled and everything that needed to be done became perfectly clear.

Around to the front of the building to the side of my stoop I cleaned and pruned and weeded my little sunny bed.  Not much to be done there except find a new home for the mystery shrub I discovered last year.  It kept growing and growing until it blocked my azalea, sage, and the stella d’oro so I whacked it back with the intent of moving it this spring.  It’s now this Spring.  Let’s see what it becomes this year.

In order to move it to the other side of my stoop I have to clean up over there.  This is how it happens with a garden my friends.  You think you want a tiny little patch of land to water and prune and next thing you know you’re weeding the entire complex.  Garden obsession is at once satisfying in its therapeutic/creative/sensory ways and insufficient in that you run out of room quickly.

As I make my way down the front of the building, yes I did weed the entire front of the building, my neighbors are keeping a safe distance from the crazy woman in a bent over (at the hip) yanking and tossing trance.  Smart people, I’m working here.  My back is behaving beautifully since I learned from some posture guru that the waist is not a joint, clever no?  My knees are performing perfectly thanks to the zillion squats that somehow have worked their way into Zumba classes and I have the perfect number of layers on to keep out the chill.  I can feel the warmth of the sun as it makes its way over to this side of the street and I can’t think of anything more perfect to be doing on a Sunday morning.

So now the mystery shrub has a new home and the only thing annoying me now is the empty space left by the tree we lost in some storm, I don’t remember which, a few years ago.  Perfect solution is to go dig up one of the duplicated spirea at the edge of the enchanted forest and move it over here.  More digging, more hauling and more chopping at roots and my work is almost done.

Something is going to have to hide the electrical meters in the back so off I go, filthy from head to toe looking like someone who is happy to finally have dirt under her nails, to see if my local nursery has the red twig dogwoods I’m after.  They are perfect for that shady area and I had my eye on them yesterday when I stopped in at Willow Run.  It was a force of enormous restraint that I didn’t come home with anything because there was PLENTY I was lusting over.  My local nursery had nothing but pansies…really it’s almost the end of April for crying out loud.  Yes I did come home with a flat of pansies because I am color starved at this point and well it’s that pansy time of year.  I can assure you I will haul it over to Willow Run (http://willowrungardencenter.com) next weekend.

Pansies set in, aches setting in also, I make my way toward the shower but not before stopping for the requisite three Advil and a long overdue tall glass of water.  I am spent, happy, and proud of my work and already chomping at the bit for next weekend to come. I know like I know my garden sustains me, arthritic hands be damned.