On a positive note, I'm linking this post with a new post, celebrating spring in the garden. And I'm linking up with Mammasaurus garden linky too.
Two sides of the same garden.
A metaphor for life.
My Mom was a keen gardener. A life-long devotee to rough hands, dirty nails and an aching back, she was immensely proud of her garden.
My parents thought that traditional, formal gardens were the only way to go. I am so different, mainly because I don't have any help in the garden. It's just me and the Boxers, and occasionally Mr B with the chain saw!
So I laughingly describe my garden as my 25 year project. I'm 7 years in to the project and I can see so much progress. For one thing, I have removed over 4 tonnes of rubble which the previous owner buried in the garden.
As I dug out the brambles, up came the broken tiles, old bathroom suites and rusty bed springs - I kid you not!
But, bit by bit, I have exposed the thoughtful planting of decades ago. The mature rhododendrons and camellias. The bee-attracting pieris and the established copper beech hedge. There are other delights too, including euonymus, elaeagnus, choisya, viburnum and sarcococca.
And I have added my own touches, the masses of wild flowers, colourful bulbs, my veggie patch, not to mention the chickens and dogs.
When Mom fell ill, I abandoned my garden, along with my job, to look after her. In the 9 months it took Mom to die, my garden became a jungle. Last year, I gathered all my strength and made a fresh start. I was pleased with the results, but some areas still remained bare. In the autumn, I grabbed a bag of 100 bulbs and planted away. I cultivated the wild flower areas.
After all the years of hard work, my garden is growing very nicely. It's not quite what Mom wanted for our garden, but I know she would have been very pleased.