By Penny Leuthard, Staff Writer
My maternal grandfather was a county extension agent for a number of years as well as a master gardener. I don’t know if I inherited my love of growing things from him or not, but gardening is definitely something I’m passionate about.
Green thumbs actually run heavily in my family. My grandpa kept tilling up sections of his yard to turn into flower gardens and had a backyard greenhouse as well as a grow light set up in his basement. All of his children – my aunts and uncles – had at one point large flower and vegetable gardens. My parents still do.
I grew up surrounded by plants, so it’s no wonder I ended up with my own overflowing house and gardens. I currently have nearly 40 houseplants; in the winter that number grows to over 50 when I bring in many of the outdoor plants I can’t bear to let die. There’s nearly always at least one plant rooting in water near my kitchen sink, waiting to be transplanted.
Outside, along with a large vegetable garden, I have 15 flowerbeds of varying sizes. The latest was added this year when I split some huge hostas into 22 separate plants and then planted them along our front yard fence with some old cream cans and buggy wheels.
Although I love all my flowers, my wildflower field is my favorite. Our property consists of two five-acre plots, and for years I’ve been spreading wildflower seeds in the field in our second lot. Starting with thousands of daisies in the spring, it becomes a riot of color with purple and white prairie clover, wild bergamot, blue vervain, blanket flowers, prairie coneflowers, black-eyed susans and more.
A new addition to my wildflower field this year is my flower truck. My husband parked one of his old trucks on the edge of the property, placed two large metal rings on the back of it and filled them with dirt. I planted them full of marigold, zinnia and cosmos seeds, all of which are in full bloom right now. I’m planning on painting our last name and the year we were married on the truck door as a finishing touch.
Although I’ve learned a lot about gardening from my parents, much of what I’ve learned has been through trial and error. I tend to buy plants just because I like the looks of them, not because I have a place to put them. I throw plants next to each other without thought of how it’ll look. Most of the time I’ve gotten lucky. Sometimes I haven’t.
Even though I’ve been at it for over 25 years I still make amateur mistakes. Take this year for example. I decided to plant some of my leftover cosmos and zinnia seeds in some bare spots in the front of a couple of my flowerbeds, not thinking about how tall those plants would get. Today they’re cheerfully blocking my view of the flowers behind them but I can’t bring myself to dig them up.
Every year I ask myself why I go through all the work a garden takes when I’m faced with a new crop of weeds to remove or a garden overflowing with produce needing to be picked. When I’m dragging hoses around during a dry spell or covering up plants during an early frost. When I can’t get all the dirt embedded around my fingernails off.
I garden for the sense of accomplishment. Realizing I helped create the beauty in front of me and knowing the birds, bees and other creatures will benefit. Feeding my family chemical-free produce that tastes better than anything ever found in a grocery store.
I garden to feel connected to my family. I have countless memories of working in the garden with my parents and grandparents. Many of the plants in my gardens today came from my grandpa’s gardens. I’m carrying on a family tradition.
I garden because it’s therapeutic. There’s just something about the feel of sun-warmed earth between your fingers, the smell of freshly tilled soil, the sight of new seedlings emerging from the ground. Listening to the birds singing and the leaves rustling in the wind, I feel connected to nature.
There’s a feeling of peace in the garden. It’s a healthy escape from your problems and worries for a few hours. Gardening is good for the soul.
But perhaps the biggest reason I garden is because I can’t help myself. I garden because I can’t imagine not doing so.
