I think I've talked before about how much I love my garden. This year I bought a flat of snapdragons and I'm feeding them Miracle Grow to see if I can make gargantuan flowers. I could spend hours and hours in my garden; it makes me feel centered and feeds my soul. That sounds a little dramatic for a plot of dirt with flowers, but something about growing something from nothing (or next to nothing when I buy the little stem starters) and seeing it flourish and bloom all summer gives me a sense of accomplishment. I miss my garden through the fall and anticipate planting again through the winter. I start planning it out in my head after Valentine's day and the minute flowers start showing up in the garden centers, I'm out in my yard making it happen. There is a nice mix of annuals and some perennial friends - the chrysanthemum my mom got for the birthday she had her knees replaced, so I took it and planted in my yard; the one my mother-in-law brought us when Owen was born; a miniature rose bush I got for my second Mother's Day; the four rose bushes I planted and gave silly names last summer; and my epically huge hollyhocks. I also had some of last year's plants make a comeback this year, that was a pleasant surprise. My garden is probably the thing that made this house feel like a real home for me. It gave me something to tend to when Michael was away at school, when I was adjusting to being home with my baby and now that I can share the yard with my crazy busy little one.
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