Growing up, I
watched my dad labor in the vegetable garden and strawberry patch. My mom helped, but preferred working in the
flower gardens. When they asked me to
help, I complained. I thought pulling
weeds was the worst chore in the world.
When we moved to Libby, my parents said I could order something for the
new gardens. I labored over the garden
catalog for hours. I was a teenager at
this point and loved anything unique. I
picked a burning bush.
"What in
the world do you want a bush for that doesn't even flower? Bushes are ugly," my dad grumbled.
"But the
leaves turn a fire red in the fall. It
will be really pretty," I argued.
I lost the
argument. I don't remember if I picked
anything, but the little spark I had was put out with a big bucket of water in
the gardening area. That is until my
husband and I moved to Wolf Point. I
tried doing some gardening the first full season we lived there. Everything died. I did cut back a bridal's wreath. The next spring it came back more beautiful
then ever, so I didn't give up my gardening itch. However, I became busy with college again and
stopped any forward progress.
Moving around a
bit and being busy with kids, I didn't get a big chance to do major gardening
until we moved to our current location in the fall of 2000. The kids kept me busy along with my military
career. When I was diagnosed with my
autoimmune diseases, I slowed down a little.
I also struggled the summers of Madelle's start of her mental
illness. I did learn in all these years,
that I gain strength in the dirt. At
some point, I began dreaming of a lush beautiful yard with every kind of flower
and bush our area can grow.
After three bad
years of gardening, I was determined to conquer this year's season of gardening. I am happy with my progress so far. I knew my real success would be in not stopping
in July. I usually do well with my work
until this month. I get burnt out and stop
until maybe the middle of September. I
need to quit that bad habit. Going on
the Secret Garden Tour on Sunday helped.
I am so antsy to keep working.
Besides getting
my current beds looking good, I am also working on progressing with my
steampunk garden and memorial garden. I
am sure my neighbor is annoyed because they both are looking tacky and are only
going to get worse. Today I began laying
down tarps to kill the grass.
So, what is a steampunk
garden? I am not sure yet. I have a vague vision of what I am going to
do. After seeing a shade garden on the
tour, I am forming a better idea. I have
planted four current bushes on the other side of the and sunflowers. One died and I need to replace it next
spring. I have bought a few rusted items
and a couple of wheels. My neighbor has
given me two rusted round metal things and a cool stove. I want to add to the collect. However, I envision this as a shade
garden. I need to get to planting bushes
and at least one small tree. I will do
that this fall and or spring depending on what the nursery has left in
September.
The other
project near and dear to my heart is a memorial garden. When I lost my Uncle Ray, Dad, and Grandpa
Hedahl all within five months of each other, I felt very lost and lonely. I looked out my writing window only to see a
bunch of grass and the neighbor's house.
I realized I wanted to look out on something that made me think of
them. I wanted a memorial garden. I wanted three pine trees. My husband said no. He hates pine trees in yards. I didn't disagree. The pine trees were a spontaneous thought in
my time of grief. Instead, we bought a
sugar maple. I also thought it would be
cool to put in a dry creek bed and put metal fish in the bed. A friend gave me one after Dad died. This garden will take me a long time to get
going, but every time I look at the plot, I see it in my imagination.
I almost
forgot. The first spring we lived here,
I bought two burning bushes. Ha, ha,
Dad. I still love them.
