Weeds vs. Wildflowers

By Sally Franz

When it comes to gardening let’s be real here. Planting is the smallest part of the job. But even with that said I am an avid perennial gardener (those plants that come back year after year). The reason is I really only like digging one hole per plant, ever. The only exception is if I have to yank out a dying plant and then I recycle the hole with a handful of bone meal and peat moss and use the cavity for something else. I occasionally break this rule when August comes and there is nothing at all of color left in the garden. Then I have been known to stick a marigold or snapdragon in the ground. Or better yet, I just get a hanging plant, take the hangers off and set it on a tile in the garden.

The problem with thinking the real work is in planting is you may get overzealous, as I have, and dig in hundreds of plants. I have extended border gardens around the entire house and added gardens on the whole property perimeter as well. And don’t forget the accent beds around a patio. Working on the theory of once in always in, I just keep adding plants.

But beware, oh amateur gardener. This is a trap. The real work is of course in watering and weeding. If you are lucky, watering can be handled with a series of driplines and/or sprinklers. Although you might want to access the cost of your summer water bill. It can double with a garden. You might decide it is worth the joy of fresh produce and cut flowers for the table.

But unless you have trained moles that only dig between plants, you are in for a rude awakening. Ground cloth can take care of some large areas, but at the end of the day, usually all day and into the night, there will be weeds to pluck out. Grass and clover is fond of straying into flower beds like frat boys trying to break into a girls’ dorm (if they even have those anymore). Then there are the actual weeds such as dandelions, ragweed, vetch, kudzu vine, nettles, wild blackberry, poison ivy and oak. Gird yourself with leather gloves, garden tools and attack. These interlopers are never good and must come out pronto.

The real conundrum is that grey area of wildflowers. Some are so exotic that you pay extra for them. But then you think twice. I put into this category plants that look super-duper in a cow pasture but will inundate your garden by year two. I know because every year I get a new version of this. I decide to let it stay because the dang thing flowers. But, like a colorful relative sleeping on the couch, eventually their stuff is scattered throughout the house. Here is my list of “guests” I let stay so long they thought they owned the place, creating huge knots of roots choking out all the aforementioned intentional perennials. The offenders include: yarrow, daisies, morning glories, buttercups, forget-me-knots, and ivy. About to be kicked out is the foxglove, which I love but is elbowing my peonies and stifling my roses.

But the number one enemy of the garden — I mean after aphids, slugs and deer — is, well, me. I get into a pulling frenzy. It’s like popping bubble wrap. I will go way past my endurance four or five hours. That is when I decide to move a plant without a shovel and use just a trowel and/or my fingers. I snapped off the top of a red hot poker yesterday and inadvertently eviscerated an iris. I grab dandelions and bring out primrose leaves with them. I have whacked blooms, bulbs, and bushes. I am a danger when I start the first weeding of spring. And always two-thirds into the yard I collapse screaming “UNCLE!” to all the couch- surfing wildflowers. That is how some quasi-wildflower that takes up a wee bit of space this year ends up owning the place next year. I wonder if wild-meadow can become the new gardening craze, cause I rock that look.

Sally Franz and her third husband live on the Olympic Peninsula. She has two daughters, a stepson, and three grandchildren. Sally is the author of several humor books including Scrambled Leggs: A Snarky Tale of Hospital Hooey and The Baby Boomer’s Guide to Menopause. She hosts a local radio humor segment, “Baby Boomer Humor with Sassy Sally”.