Don't do as I do, which is to look at a new and intriguing plant and say "Oh - perfect! I can put it in the hole left by the cimicifuga that didn't make it." It's OK to do that once, but I often fill that hole three or more times from different catalogs. It pays to take notes. So do as I say, rather than as I did. And read about The Plot I Planned to Plant: When Your Order Is Bigger Than Your Garden. . .
Oh - and when you take those plants out to plant, make sure you know exactly what you have and where it will grow best. Is it a sun lover? A shade lover? Will it stay small or grow to be 3' wide? Best to get this right now so the plant will flourish in a good and permanent home than to turn it into a nomad in search of a place to settle.
Spring Plant Lust
We all do it. Even as we look with guilt and dismay at those boxes of homeless plants on the porch we have to go through all the Rites of Spring - the most important one being a trip to the local nursery to see what is new. And you know what happens then! We fall victim to the dreaded Spring Plant Lust!.
You walk in, your resolve high. You are only looking. You are really only there because it is what a gardener does in spring - and besides, wouldn't the staff wonder if they had done something wrong if you failed to make your expected appearance? You don't want them to worry. So you walk in bravely, head held high - and you don't take one of those flat-bottomed carts that make it so easy to load up on lovely plants. Of course, there is a question of finding just the right plant with the right texture and foliage color for that one hole in the main garden that you don't seem to have filled - so you lower your eyes and allow yourself to look.
Only you don't lower your eyes enough. You need to be watching your ankles. That is where the action is, as plant after plant leaps from the shelves and clings to your ankles, begging, beseeching you to give them good homes. And how can you resist these eloquent pleas? You LOVE plants! You can't bear to see them suffering. And so you sigh and succumb to the inevitable and get a cart. At least your ankles are safe now. The needy plants can jump right into the cart.
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