A Flower is Worth a Thousand Smiles

I worked for hours in my garden today. And just in the nick of time. It was forlorn and abandoned.

I hadn't spent any time out there in about 6 weeks except to go out and pull the weeds that were threatening to choke out the flora. I hadn't added annuals for color or pinched back the new growth or executed my yearly schizophrenic plant rotation, where I take a plant that's perfectly fine where it is, and just when it's starting to thrive, pluck it up, leaving half it's roots behind, only to reposition it somewhere else that will end up being as temporary as it was in the whole entire first place (Part of my OCD, I think, though I come by it honestly. (Hi Mom!)). I think I murdered an Alstroemeria in this very manner today.

ANYWAY, I couldn't figure out what was causing this uncharacteristic apathy towards my garden. And then tonight, knee-deep in Vinca, Miracle Grow and mud, I figured it out.

We're moving.

I'll only see one more spring here as we plan to leave next June.

And we may never come back to this house.

And even if we do rent it out and return someday, the tenants are sure to make a bloody mess out of this very thing I love most about our house. The very thing I've invested hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars making Mine. My teeny-tiny patio garden.

And that makes me heartbreakingly sad.

But not nearly as sad as walking past a neglected patch of dirt and weeds that, with a little bit of effort, water, sunshine and love can make me smile with every coming and going.