The Stress and Anxiety of an Open Garden


I’ve been gardening for two decades now and yet I’m not known to have much of a show garden. It’s been a bit of a joke for me really, since I’ve been experimenting with so many things for so long, but I’ve had a plan. I just have not had a lot of money to do much, or the energy to do it myself.

Back in the olden days when I was training the willow arbor. This photo shows why the garden is named Campiello Maurizio after Maurice, the chunky kitty in the foreground. The kitties have always loved the back garden.

So instead, I tinkered. I grew random plants in pots, and for over a decade I sold their seeds on Etsy. Plants were here and there and I was a seed grower. I collected seeds in others’ gardens, I cleaned them, and I offered them for sale and grew them here too. It was chaos, a mess really, but I learned a lot and grew a reputation as a seedsperson. I sold over 5,000 packets of seeds and/or glassine envelopes. It was a lot!

As my health has improved and become more manageable, I’ve worked to tame the place, and to edit it and make sense of it. But I miss growing seeds. I miss working at home. I keep trying to grow seeds again. I just don’t have the energy now. To be good at it you really need to have a keen eye for detail and I just am too tired and worn down after working all week. But like I said, I keep trying. This year is no different and seeds will be sown again.

The same benches as above. They’re all gone now, and Mona was the last cat in the photo above to pass away. We lost her last fall.

Only a few friends know what this garden home has looked like over the years. I never planned big, I only had things that made me happy for a spell, small dumb things that I could afford at the time. The amount of energy it can take to plan a garden project is often taken for granted. Editing is easier now since I basically just want to sit in a hammock, but I do have quite the collection of plants, and visitors will not be disappointed by them at all.

The South Garden before the Doug fir with 7 heads was removed.

With aching fingers now I can only write so much about all of this, but it’s worth the anxiety to open your garden once you get it in order. It by no means should be perfect either, it’s an unfinished story that visitors can begin, and return to next year if they wish, and maybe again later.

Like life, gardens are never the same. Change is a challenge, but change can be beautiful. I love this about gardens and gardening.

Sadly, yes, it can feel competitive, and you can feel like less than some other gardener, but what matters is your joy, the pleasure you feel from your own efforts, and the happiness you can share with others. We need one another and we need to feel and share joy.

The South Garden several years after the Doug fir with 7 heads was removed.

Most of my adult life has been spent hiding in my garden, dealing with health issues, and the more time I spend away from it, I realize how many challenges folks deal with daily and I see the privilege I have as the city grows around me and as homes get smaller, and so many have no gardens at all. Land is becoming more and more expensive.

So I choose to share my happiness and my fun collection of plants.

The front garden maybe 10 years ago.

It is a panicked time now working so hard at both nurseries, dealing with the usual stresses of the workplace, customers and coworkers all bringing their own stuff to the table, dealing with my own insane chronic pain, and having and an extreme need to find balance in my own self after having lived a life wildly beyond my control.

As I pull it all together, the garden is coming along too and I love it. I’m stinking exhausted, but I’m happy.

The front garden a few weeks ago after hiring the help of two coworkers. It’s amazing how far you can go when you have some help.

So please, open your garden, make new friends, share plants, smile, laugh, and enjoy the time you have here in this life to share with others.

Professionalism, Respect, Kindness: Life is short

9 thoughts on “The Stress and Anxiety of an Open Garden

  1. I love this perspective because our garden is also not a show garden. It’s always in a constant flux and gardens that looked good 8 years ago are some of the worst ones right now.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Craig Levy

    I’ve always liked growing plants and I’m good at it. Not so much the landscaping or even displaying of them. If I like and want a plant I try to give a best guess estimate for the conditions it needs to thrive and then see if I have a spot it might work in, usually considering its light and space needs. Having a planting be appealing to the eye is less important to me than the satisfaction of seeing them grow. It is a bit jarring to me when someone takes pleasure from my garden as I find it hard to see it as a whole and not just an assemblage of mostly ones, sometimes twos, and rarely more. My goal is to have my plants be lush and full with an exuberance of growth and that’s what I think visitors are likely responding to.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I still remember the panic I felt when the first group of online friends made plans to visit my garden as part of a tour adventure they were on. I actually emailed the organizer of the group and tried to back out. I’ve learned so much since then!

    Liked by 1 person

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