New Beginnings

Fall is for planting, and that makes me think of new beginnings. I've spent the last few weekends tinkering around in the yard planting bulbs, winter annuals (violas, snapdragons, and dianthus), and new shrubs with a thought toward a new and improved garden next year. I get excited about next year's garden about this time every year.

We cut down all the foundation plantings around the house this weekend. The builder picked them up at Lowe's one afternoon I'm sure. They looked nice when I bought the house ten years ago. In the last few years they've grown to the point of completely obscuring the front of the house. So it was time for a change.

Now my dilemma is selecting new plants. The front of the house is on the north side, so the area gets almost no direct sunlight. I could work around that easy enough. The other problem is that there are two large windows that start about 24 inches above ground level. That means that whatever I plant in front of them should be no more than say 36 inches tall at maturity.

I'm definitely going to find room for at least one tea olive. I already have a group of five tea olives planted on the east side of the house. Maybe I'll find a different variety so I won't feel like I'm going overboard.

I'm also thinking about white camellias. The house is red brick with white trim, so I think that a nice cultivar of a japonicus type would look nice--assuming it gets enough sun to bloom. They aren't fragrant (or not that I've noticed) so I wouldn't have to worry about a scent clashing with the tea olives.

Tea olives and camellias would have to go in the few spots that are not in front of a window. For beneath the windows I'm thinking about some variety of daphne. I'm not sure how well they do here in the deep south, and suspect they need more sun than they would be likely to get here. But I may give them a shot just the same.

Working in the garden chills me out a lot. I haven't been pissed about anything for a few days. That doesn't change the fact that I am, as always,

The Crotchety Old Man