Eventually most things get straightened out. A few plants that I never really liked are composted. So are a few that I really did like, because they were so tangled up with the mediocre plants that they came of their own accord. Things get rearranged, and I almost leave enough room for them all - and then they spend the next few weeks suffering from transplant shock. So much for picture-perfect in August!
And then it is fall and time to wind up gardening for the season. Another year bites the dust - and another dream of a picture perfect garden.
But now it's spring again (or will be if it ever stops snowing!) - and hope is springing as eternally as usual, even though by now I ought to know better. I have ordered no new plants (so far); I have a firm mental resolve to get rid of a few more unpaying passengers. I have an even firmer resolve to pay attention to spacing this year and to try to be patient and just let things grow up.
So why do I have this sneaky suspicion that next year at this time I could rerun this article as if I had never learned a thing from my past mistakes?
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