Why Did We Choose to Rehabilitate My Mother’s Gardens?

Paul and I aren’t Spring chickens. But we aren’t old either. So why have we decided to take on such a big undertaking?

I miss my mother, Janet. She was an avid gardener. She loved to create beautiful spaces for people to look at both inside and out. Gardening was hard work, but also therapeutic. She had Sunny English gardens with columbine, lavender, hollyhocks and shady gardens with hostas and ferns. I was always fascinated by the bleeding heart plants she had. How they hung like perfect pink and white pendants off graceful arching stems, like romantic teardrops ready to fall to the garden floor.

She planted bulbs and perennials all over the 5 acre wooded property we now have. Her crocus are the first flowers we greet at the end of winter. They are followed by daffodils. It is forever the plant I will remember her for. One spring, we counted 4,000 daffodils blooming in these woods. Like Nature’s Golden Tapestry, the woods one day would be dull with winter’s leftovers and the next day explode with dazzling vibrant yellow, as if the sun had broken into pieces and illuminated the forest floor.

While some golden sunshine still explodes, the numbers have dwindled. After she passed, my father had no interest in gardens and so other than cleaning the leaves out in fall they were sorely neglected. Today, you have to part the waist-high weeds just to find some of the remaining daffodils. We have large saplings, dead trees, and a few treasures of remaining plants left in between. And we have to do it on a tight budget. The price of everything has gone up astronomically. Property taxes, groceries, energy costs. This will be no easy task.

My mother worked her fingers to the bone in her gardens. She planted daffodils, crocus, trillium, and hyacinth. While many of these have thinned or disappeared completely, there are some flowers that remain steady. Virginia Bluebells, Lilly of the Valley, and Crocus remain plentiful. Trillium also comes up throughout the woods in impressive numbers.

When I see the first crocus appear, I know Spring is nipping at my heels. The smell of the air, the sound of the birds that are returning, it’s all intoxicating. She created beauty in the world that is still here years after her passing. She left an indelible mark on this property. Paul and I want to leave our mark too. We want to leave beauty that is here long after we are gone.

Working in soil is therapeutic. And as much work as it is, and it is work, I think my Mom gardened to alleviate her stress. Science calls it 'Horticultural Therapy,' but to me, it’s just the simple, honest magic of seeing something thrive because you cared for it. You can see your accomplishments. They are tangible. There is a fairly quick turn around from putting the work in to seeing the results. Sometimes they are immediate (weeding), and sometimes they take a bit longer (planting seeds). But all within a short time the outcome can be spectacular. Both Paul and I seek to leave our stress behind in the dirt. We know we will become healthier for it.

Much like the overgrown gardens we face, our “life garden” has grown too thick, with roots intertangled, fighting for water, air and light. Our stresses are heavy and weigh us down.

We handle it. But we need a new outlet. One that we can share together. One where we can see the results quickly. One that builds our muscles. One that quiets our minds.

Starting our business, Little Village Hosta Farm, has helped immensely. This is a natural extension of that business.

Mom taught me how to handle stress. How to meet it head on and toughen my skin. She taught me how to advocate for the underdog, and how to try to catch flies with honey, but also to have a bug swatter up your sleeve just in case you need to splat them all over the sidewalk. All this preparation is what has allowed me to survive what we’ve been through.

To honor the woman who taught me to carry the bug swatter, we will start with Janzy’s Garden. It is a shade garden on the southwest side of the house. It is the area most closely adjacent from where we set up Little Village Hosta Sale plants for our customers. We want it to be a beautiful tribute to Janzy as well as the first piece of the yard our customers see. We want it to inspire.

These are some photos my mother had taken (25-30 years ago). What treasures do you see?

Do you see anything worth saving? Or just weeds?

There are a few treasures which I will show in my next blogpost. Join us on this journey, but be patient as these waist-high weeds are going to take awhile to wade through.