mums...



Here's a not so hot picture of the new mums I planted yesterday. They're small, they were in 6" pots, but they'll fill out the border nicely next year, especially with some astute pinching back. Which made me wonder why I planted them, to tell the truth.
When I was a kid, my father, Jack of the Green Thumb, had a mum border that was almost 100' long and about three feet deep. They were all one color, sort of a dark rust color, double bloomed. When they started to grow each spring, it was my job to pinch them back so they would form mounds. After a while I became quite good at it and the results were worth the time and effort, although, in my kid's mind, it seemed that once I got to the end, it was time to walk back to the other end and start all over again. When I was able to start gardening for myself, many years ago, I swore I would never, ever, plant mums. I used to buy them to put on the front and back porch each Autumn, but never planted them. But, on Saturday morning, when I was at the garden center looking for sales on perennials, I walked past a huge display of mums and their scent was carried to me on the breeze and I immediately thought of my father and how much he loved them. I also thought about the endless hours spent on my hand and knees pinching back his border and how, now it didn't really seem, to my older, if not adult mind, too bad, working with flowers, the sun on my back, the smell of mums permeating my fingers. So, I bought a half dozen and now have a very small mum border. Now, next year, when I'm on my hands and knees, sun on my back, pinching them back, enveloped in their scent, I'll be reminded of my father, which makes it all the more worthwhile.


sow what you will...