Cinderella Planters

We got high-centered--all of us--caught on the fence between winter and spring.  Our hearts surge forward, wanting to plant, garden, and flower; and then it snows on us and pours so much rain that every step toward the garden leaves miniature foot-print-sized lakes behind us overflowing along our route.

Neglected, frosted, ugly planters

But what is a heart to do?  Mine was pumping with the emotion of earth and beauty for the Things I get to do today.  And before me, while the rains held back the tears measured out for today, were the dregs of several planters--left behind--too ugly to be invited anywhere.  Surely I could be distracted from the garden-spring thing by coming to the rescue of these tired plants.  It's an opportunity to make something from nothing.  That's the sort of juicy challenge any Handy Andy would adore.

So get to work.  Grab the gloves.  Pull out all frost-killed plants.  Remove all dead leaves and leggy stems from the remaining live ones.  Divide clumped and overgrown plants.  Repot them like a group photo shoot: short ones on the front edges, medium and tall in the center and back.

Added kale (new dress), primrose (sparkle) and parsley.
The rest (slippers) were salvaged from the two "uglies"

The winter was rough on the houseplants that had migrated into the original arrangements. Even combining the two planters there were not enough growies to fill the larger one that sits on top of my rain barrel.  A little wandering through the yard, however, yielded part of a clump primroses that needed dividing, a handful of Italian Parsley* and one healthy kale.

You can do this, too.  Come on, be a Fairy Godmother to your tired, tattered, and tarnished planters from last season.  Give them new sparkle, find a pretty "dress," and clean up the "slippers."


*See "Italian Generosity" posted November 14, 2011.

A Dribble of White

We define objects by contrast.  We know hot from cold, light from dark, smooth from rough.  If everything were smooth, tan, and monotone, there would be little meaning.

Dribbled with white

My mother-in-law loved contrast:  black and white was her favorite color combination for clothing.  Brilliant flowers in the garden made her coo with pleasure. Planning which blooms accented best the ones snuggled next was a delight for her spring.  One principle she followed in plotting out the plantings was to mix in "a dribble of white."  The contrast made all the flowers look smarter.

Moms love pink

All philosophical wanderings aside, remembering the importance of contrast at this time of year while one moment I'm bundled up for winter and then next working in shirt sleeves helps define the Things I get to do today.








So Mom Nature's been talking to my mother-in-law and this morning decided to accent the first flowers of spring by dusting them all with "a dribble of white." The delicate crystals kissed all the garden, but only the flowers remembered it long enough to sit for their portraits. Sweetly stunning, indeed. Both these moms know what they're doing.