Dear Jasmina

One of my main occupations when I was young, up until I left home, was yardwork. I weeded flower beds, tilled the soil under cedar trees and picked out debris from long rock beds. I also weeded the lawn, one row at a time, and by the time I would be done the front yard, there was the backyard. With enough procrastination, the project would only last a summer, until the next year, and another crop of weeds. Despite disliking that aspect of yardwork, I do credit it for providing me with patience and a particular satisfaction that comes from plucking weeds out by the roots. It is also why I love planting flowers and spending time whispering sweet nothings into their little petal ears.

Then, of course, there is the satisfaction of having plants that aren’t just pretty… They smell good and make everything taste better.

The garden is Christian’s area. He decides where things are planted, when things are ready to eat, and then I eat it. With him of course. Left to right, there are tomatoes, then, lettuce, carrots and cucumbers, onions and beans. On the side of the garage, we planted lots of potatoes. They’re not all that photogenic…

The thing about plants is that they are very forgiving, most of the time. I love being able to re-arrange things at will, and Christian is wonderfully obliging. After our winters have killed the countless clematis we’ve planted along our deck, we needed something to add height in the corner of our flowerbed along the house.

We made the bed larger, or rather, I laid down a rope and Christian did all the sweaty stuff. ‘Cause, he’s DA MAN!

And look! Isn’t it so much better? I let 20 mosquitoes in the house just going out to admire our new corner. And it is going to grow! And not just because I put my nose in its neck to smell its handsome pine-like smell, but because the tag said so… 10 to 20 feet, which, when we tell people about it, remark the discrepancy. I think it’s only 10 feet if you don’t tickle it from time to time…