Frustrated Artist

The sun is shinning. I ventured outdoors to sort through the plants out in the driveway, and perhaps finish pruning the roses. I was able to complete the latter. I managed to disentangle Rosa "Madame Plantier" off my "Cherokee Sunset" dogwood tree. No easy task, considering the former grows to vast rose proportions, more suited to an acreage than stuffed into a narrow bed next to a driveway. Ahh, but the fragrance when it blooms in early summer, and oh the abundance of those giant sprays of tiny white blooms. My new next door neighbor was quite impressed when it bloomed last year under her bedroom window. She had no idea it was even a rose, her experience being only with those stiff, decidedly awkward Hybrid Teas.

The tree rescue accomplished my attention turned to several empty pots, brand new, begging to be filled. One thing I am never in shortage of is spare plants needing homes. My driveway has long sheltered dozens of plants waiting for homes in the garden or for more ornamental containers for prominate display. On the hump of dirt kicked up by the backhoes during construction, my husband dumped half a yard of mint compost to use for filling containers and to cook down into the clay unearthed during the afore-mentioned construction. The soil will improve while I figure out what to do with this area. I have also emptied various bags of container soil in this spot, plus a bag of peat moss. I used this mixture to fill one of a pair of large Luytens style pots, I bought for the amazing price of $17.00 a piece. This is unheard of. I was barely finished with the first pot, when I felt a wrench in my back. I continued on, ignoring the pain, with visions of artistically arranged plants spilling in glorious profusion over their fat edges, later in the season. Another wrench. More like a stab. Ouch!

I'm back indoors. The sun still shinning.