The overcrowded garden

I am something of a plant collector. In the Spring, I pack a hand trowel and scissors in my vehicle so that I can snip off and dig up small pieces of plants and put them in my gardens.

I treasure the lilac bushes that I dug up as shoots from along the driveway of an old, decaying house (pictured...aren't they amazing??!!). I look forward to seeing my Poets Daffodils bloom every Spring, after finding them abandoned under brush along the road.

Similarly, I treasure the cuttings and divisions given to me by friends and family. I have a rhodey from The Pillars, sedum from a trailer my mother bought and sold, and fern peonies from my grandparents' flower bed. Somehow, I remember the origin of each plant....she who can't remember what she wore yesterday.

I usually put these cuttings and divisions away into the ground in whatever free space I can find in one of my gardens. This year, I noticed, my gardens had become very, very cluttered and overgrown. Oregano mint from my Amish friend Gracia has overtaken the bed by the barn. Great Grandma Myrtia's rose bush has taken over the circle garden in back.

Today I began to thin and relocate some plants. The goal is to make room for some bushes and plants with better "bones" and evergreens that might show in the winter.

I found myself struggling. Every time I pulled a plant I wondered how and where it would fit in somewhere else. All the beds are overgrown.

The overcrowded garden is a metaphor for my life. Sometimes I have to thin out even activities that are in and of themselves "lovely."

Last summer I worked three jobs. One in case I lost the other. One because the town couldn't find a sub. I also took renters at the cottage to help with expenses. I'd leave work at 10:00 p.m. and then head to the lake, cleaning up or preparing for guests into the wee hours of the morning.

My husband and the boys helped. They painted the picnic table and benches, weeded, cleaned up the beach, vacuumed, and more.

I missed just "sitting" by the water. I missed my family. By August, I was exhausted.

In January we made the decision to sacrifice rental income for a season.

The decision hasn't been "popular," although some former renters have been wonderfully understanding. Today, Mother's Day, I heard from two of them who said, "it's OK." "We understand."

The plants in my garden grow and flower when there is ample space and nutrition. The beds look better with plants that have "substance" and deep roots.

I'm hopeful that our decision to keep things "quiet" at the Lake will eventually provide for "room to grow."