Invaders from the Nursery

 

Letter to my most aggressive plants:

Please be advised that there will be a few changes around the garden coming up. A removal operation will occur sporadically on my whim, when the weather is conducive, my other jobs are finished and there is no wind to contend with that makes my hair fly around my face, covering my eyes and going in my mouth. So what I’m saying dear greenery is that it will begin at a time when you least expect it.

On that propitious day, what you can expect will be severe haircuts or worse. I can tug on your roots and pull you out if I so please. That way I might be able to finally uncover my garden furniture hidden under several seasons of encroachment. So do not test my patience any further with further advancing of your shoots and tendrils. Try to be civilized if you can. Flop over on occasion if you will. I may then have second thoughts about what will befall you in the future. But do not for any moment think that you’ve got the upper hand or leaf. There will be no bargaining here.

Sincerely yours

Mrs Gardener (that cares for you rain or shine)

 

I actually used to enjoy sitting on that high backed seat on what used to be my front patio that had a light covering of gravel. Now it is an unruly mess since the lemon balm planted itself there and took over. What started out as gorgeous green leaves that I do enjoy in my tea, has become the leader of the pack of overgrown aggressors intent on destroying my last small plot of peacefulness. Now I can no longer get to the iron table and chairs that have wildflowers and stalks of this and that growing through their seats. Now I cannot see if what I planted in the planters around the perimeter of the patio is still alive. I don’t even remember what it was that I planted there, probably because that was months ago and ever since it has been veiled by rampant growth of this creeping scourge.

When we first moved here I put those planters around the outside of the patio and put a few choice plants in them. The following year I was grateful to see that some baby plants had put themselves into the gritty ground. That surprised me. We had black pansies, some oregano and some yarrow that first year along with some yellow orange geums from a nearby area that moved over there. Somehow though in those early days here, I put a little bit of lemon balm in a plot that was devoid of much else. It was an innocent mistake but one that I’ve regretted often. Like mint, which I do keep in its own container, lemon balm thrives and seems to multiply to increase its spread. It is a gorgeous herb in its heyday when it’s coming up and filling in all the dead space from winter. But somehow, it soon becomes unwieldy.  Without any fanfare, it takes over wherever I’ve planted it and far beyond. Although John just wants to mow everything down I want to go through there more carefully. He’s probably thinking that doing it his way will take just a few minutes and my way will never be finished but will get similar results over a long period of time. Maybe I’ll let him mow it. That would teach that lemon balm who’s the boss.

Now, about the variegated ivy that seems to want to come in through the windows:  “Cut it out. I just cut you back a couple of months ago. That seemed to have given you a new lease on life.” Hmm. Somebody is winning here and it’s not me. Hmm. I gotta think about this for a while.