My grandmother’s garden in Spokane overflowed with looming bushes of fragrant lilacs and roses, beautiful pathways lined with lilies and violets, perfectly behaved arches of ivy over soft beds of moss clinging to native stone alongside gracefully curving pathways. All encircled a towering weeping willow that enchanted the back yard with lattices of shade and sunlight. Truly magical.
My mother has caused the desert to bloom along the Columbia River, bringing forth riots of day lilies, daffodils, gladioli, iris and chrysanthemums, an astounding variety of rose bushes that thrive under her care, berry brambles where none should dare grow, apples and apricots, peaches and plums, vegetables beyond compare, and arranges flowers with a professional flair and effortless ease.
I can slay a silk plant in two weeks without breaking a sweat.
Since I’m adept at growing simple things in butter containers, I’m going to start with simple things that it won’t be too noticeable if they’re not blooming like mad.