May 29, 2009 11:56 am
Updated: Jul. 12, 2009 8:22 pm
When I was a kid in Southern California, gardening meant pulling weeds when I'd rather be body surfing. It was a chore, a burden, and occasionally a punishment. Okay, often a punishment. Later, when I watched a housemate work in her little flower garden planted in the hard scrabble side yard of our Venice Beach rental, I still couldn't see the point.
Then I fell in love and moved to the Pacific Northwest, where I married a man with a garden.
After many years of digging and planting and rearranging and inadvertently killing things and unexpectedly growing things, our garden has become our haven and I've started to think of myself as a gardener.
Mistakes were made. My most recent bone-headed move? I planted mint, and not in a pot. You gardeners are screaming, "What were you thinking?"
Yeah, I hear you.
And now the green giant has taken over a sunny corner of a vegetable bed where rightfully a tomato should go. But it's so pretty! Well, so was the Japanese timber bamboo that eventually tore up the north side of our garden. That was pretty, too. But we had to take it out once it bullied its way past the barrier that we naively thought would hold back the forces of nature.
And now we have to deal with the mint.
I need some ideas from you because I can't drink that many mojitos!
Thanks for the visit, and happy gardening!
The garden in May 2009.
The mint that ate my garden.
Chive flowers + salad = genius
I love chard's colorful stems.