Deodand

Been gardening since my mom put me out to water the marigolds. I used to ask myself, why did she plant the marigolds when I have to water them? And weed them? I think she had a long-term plan in mind. Or perhaps she wanted cheery marigolds in the flower bed with a minimum of fuss. Or she rightly realized that I was closer to the ground than she.

I currently have a shaggy mixed mess of a garden in my tiny northern Edmonton yard. Nice people call it the “cottage” look, where others call it a freakin’ mishigoss. It’s a yiddish word for “mess”. I don’t like the sight of bare dirt. I keep planting, mixing flowers and veg, until the ground is gone. I have no grass in my backyard.

Everything I’ve learned about gardening is through failure and making mistakes. That is my favourite aspect of gardening – even a giant mistake can be easily rectified with sufficient quantities of elbow grease and time.