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  • Karen

A Humble Gardener

My garden, my inner sanctum, is a little spot of beauty on this planet that makes my neighbors and the pedestrians happy. They smile and connect with the sights and smells of things alive and growing as they walk around my corner of the world. Their enthusiasm fills me with an obligation to persevere in my garden mission, even though there are moments when I want to throw in the white flag and surrender to my aches, pain and damaged ego. I really do not want to disappoint, even though my desire for a green thumb is challenged by garden villains: weather, animals of all sizes, disease, and sometimes my own stupidity. “Ahhh, I killed another rose.” If a prison for rose killers existed I would be in lockup for involuntary rose slaughter. Admitting to the crime, I chose to learn from my humiliating failures and faithfully protect pedestrians from a climber, Seven Sisters. She tends to be a little wild and dangerous, but a wonderful take away from a CRS meeting.

By my humble observation, and determination, my flowers, particularly my roses, have inspired my neighbors to take an interest in their own properties. One neighbor plants fake flowers. I have many temptations as a gardener to succeed, but that is not one of them. Stealing cuttings in the night does cross my mind, but I would never do it! I only think about it. I do covet other gardeners' successes, but that’s my motivation for me to try harder. My private and public gardens visits have fueled me with fiery incentive and knowledge, along with my rose friends who have places in my garden and heart. Most of my roses have a CRS members’ story attached to them, which makes my modest garden even sweeter. Also, there is some pressure. The original owners of my house had something blooming from early spring to late fall, but not a trace of a rose was in sight. Now the roses rule, where there is sun. My plan for the future is for roses to dominate my corner with grandness.

I am moving forward with my gardening efforts, and forgiving myself for oversights. I know all is good when I take out my journal to evaluate, plot and plan. This year I was a much more constant gardener and that provided me with my best results ever. To grow a rose takes time, money, and a lot of effort, but the most important ingredient is love. Roses thrive on love, and my mantra while I lovingly toil in my inner sanctum is, “Where there is love, there is no labor.”

Submitted by Karen on Oct 7, 2020

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