Plants That Just Happen ...
I am not a gardener. I am barely a mower, though I try to keep my grass in check. (It's overdue, but today's the day, neighbors! I promise!)
At the moment, I have an impressive thistle patch growing which, thankfully, they cannot see. (I'm pulling weeds today after I mow the lawn, neighbors! I promise!)
But part of what makes my neighbors so lovely is that they not only have a drop-dead-gorgeous garden, they are also happy to share plants.
Apparently, plants grow, and sometimes, they grow so big that they have to be divided, and then those plants need to go into the ground somewhere, and luckily for me, that somewhere is often here. William wanders over every so often and just plops something into the ground and it grows and looks fabulous, like this hosta:
Thankfully, it requires no assistance from me. It just comes up every year, all showy and variegated and green. I love the color.
My one nod toward gardening when I first moved in was to plant a clematis. I planted it behind my garage, where my lovely neighbors can sometimes glimpse it, depending on where they are in their yard.
It, too, just happens every year, and when it comes to color combinations, it's hard to beat purple and green:
So, thank you, neighbors, for being so wonderful. And thank you, plants, for being so pretty despite any assistance from me.
I want to do better. I do. If someone could just take care of the heat and the humidity and bugs, I'll happily while away hours in the garden. I'll even wear a floppy hat.