I've not yet started to garden this year, though I'm getting the hankering.
My Mom was a great gardener, Libby McGeary, who owned a nursury Mint Hill Gardens on Roanoke Ave. in the West Hills in the 80's and 90's. Some of you may even know about her; she was known as the 'herb lady,' but what she really accomplished was learning how to garden in Central Oregon. She taught many a gardener how to harden plants, to grow perennials, and near the end of her life, grow native plants.
I always think of her in the spring, because I know she would've loved the more or less blank slate I've been given in my back yard; a third of an acre lot, half wild with Juniper and lava rock, the other half soon to be a yard and garden.
Alas, while I've inherited the urge, I haven't quite inherited the work eithic. I remember her gardening from sunrise to sundown. Propogating plants in the downstairs, bottling herb vinegar, and driving to the valley once a week to pick up plants. As I grew up, our large lawn became an English garden, with a micro climate. I'd walk down the steps on a hot summer day, and the temperature would drop 10 degrees and moisture would fill the air, and you felt as though you'd entered an impressionistic painting.
It was her passion, and she had a talent, and most importantly, she shared with other gardeners. There are gardeners all through Bend who have 'Libby' plants in their garden. I'm hoping to create a garden she would've been proud of.
3 hours ago