I promised myself not to start another garden. We have plenty to care for. The front landscaping – boring yews and dwarf Alberta Spruce – need twice-a-year pruning. The front garden is huge and needs daily weeding. The shade garden to the north of the house must be weeded and watched for slugs. The three – yes three – backyard gardens need water every-other-day and, oh yes, weeding. The fifteen newer trees need buckets hauled every week without rain.
Last but not least, I have nine raised beds, more or less filled with vegetables. Weed, water, check for bugs.
It takes a lot of time. I have no need for another garden. And I promised.
One of my favorite extension master gardener stories involves a couple who had to tear out gardens that they spent years building in order to sell their house. People just don’t want the responsibility and work of many gardens.
But there’s that garden of rusty things and Jim did such a nice job with edging and mulch. I probably wouldn’t have planted anything new except for my (bad) habit of trolling the internet where I stumbled on Smokey’s Daylilies.
After two hours of drooling on their site and some time wondering where I could plant a whole bunch of new daylilies, I thought of the already prepared bed in my garden of rusty things. Too tempting.
I love daylilies. All shapes, sizes, and colors, they bloom prolifically in the middle of summer. They don’t seem to be terribly fussy about clay soil and can go more than a week without watering. Carefree? Well, not exactly. They need to be weeded – everything does. Fall clean-up is a must to get rid of the dead leaves. They should be divided every couple of years, otherwise they get too big to bloom. But even if you forget the clean-up and the dividing this year, you can do it next without the plants tanking. Very forgiving plants.
I bought eight different hybrids, including one that I’ve coveted for a couple of years and haven’t found anywhere else. Each order came with two ‘fans’ and Smokey’s sent me a free gift – eighteen to plant. As of this morning, it looks like they’ll all survive.
If all goes well, they’ll flower next summer. Can’t wait.
And, yes, absolutely, positively, no more gardens.