by Margie Senechal
There are two things that I dream/fantasize about--writing the perfect book and creating the perfect wildflower garden.
Both things take a ton of energy, focus, and dedication from me. Both things are still wanting.
The past few days we've had summer like temps going on here in the PNW--breaking records type weather.
Yesterday was my day off so I decided to go out to my neglected flower beds and do some culling. I have four flower beds--the one in the front is kind of a jungle that blocks the house from peepers. Not that we have a lot of peepers, but it's an excuse. And three in the back.
The top picture, the flower bed under our bedroom window, had a tree fall. That big bushy looking thing in the middle of the frame--top of the tree. As my chain-saw wielding friend has been unavailable, there it lies. So, I didn't tackle that bed.
The next picture is the cherry tree garden a few years ago before that tree fell and before the blackberries took siege.
The next picture is the cherry tree stump garden taken over by the blackberry brambles. Blackberries are garden bullies, in case you don't know.
I can't even find the stump at this point. And those blackberries are going to take more time than I wanted to give yesterday.
So, I focused on the flower garden right outside my patio door. Last year, my beautiful clematis died. I don't know what happened, but it just turned to dead wood. All that dried twiggage was wrapped around that white PVC pipe faux trellis that came with the house--just so you know, that wasn't my design.
Sometimes--all times??--that's my battle. Once I start, I'm good to go, but conquering my procrastination tenancies is my greatest challenge.
For me, these two dreams--perfect garden, perfect book--are tandem. I envision building a she-shed out in the backyard after I sell my first book. Yeah, I know the reality of monetary compensation for selling your first book, but isn't that what fantasies are all about--escapist enjoyment?
And in that fantasy world, I also have fairies dancing in the flowers, butterflies frolicking in the air, and a swing perched under the apple trees where I'm reading or writing as the summer breeze lifts my perfectly-coiffed hair.
To garden, to dream...