The Sacrifices of Spring

When we bought this house (six years ago this month), I was thrilled with the huge flower box out front. It runs nearly the whole length of the walkway to the front door. I dreamily envisioned it burgeoning with ruffly Rununculus...



...Icelandic Poppies...



...little purple Pansies...



...and regal looking Digitalis...



...welcoming all visitors to our home.

I couldn't understand why the former owners had planted Heavenly Bamboo and Society Garlic in such prime floral real estate.



Not only were they an odd pair aesthetically, but the former was so tall that it partially blocked the windows and the latter has an unpleasant odor which shouldn't be the first aromatic impression upon entering a home.

Hmm, oh well, I thought, transplanting the "ousted" to more appropriate places. I was just happy to be the planter's new mommy.

Well, it wasn't long before I realized why the planter hadn't been better tended to. Apparently, Heavenly Bamboo and Society Garlic were the only things the former owners had found would grow there.

Nearly everything I planted there died...and quickly. Lovely plant after lovely plant was purchased and caringly tended to in its new home only to wither and die. I dumped bags and bags of mulch into the planter, taking care to mix it thoroughly. I made sure to thoroughly water any of the new "recruits". It didn't help.

Watching the sunlight situation, I saw that during the summer, the flower box was completely in the shade of a tree until about 11:00 am at which point all of the sun's radiant glory fell upon it like the wrath of God (I think being up against the house intensified it even more) until about 1:30 pm at which point the sun was blocked by the house, plunging the box into total shade again.

I'm not sure if the plants were fried or confused, but very few could handle living in the atmosphere into which I was thrusting them. My floral fantasies became sadly subdued. No longer did I long for a flower box worthy of a Better Homes and Garden cover. I just wanted something green instead of dry, brown and disintegrating.

Year after year, I have continued to experiment, suppressing the feelings of guilt I have over throwing perfectly healthy sacrifices into this apparent volcano. It's not my intention that they die...

This year is no different. Jeff and I went to Home Depot last weekend, looking for this year's agricultural guinea pigs.

He pointed out some flowers that he liked and I showed him that their tags said "partial sun".

"We need 'total sun' ," I stated, explaining the situation.

"What about 'hellfire'?" he asked.

I assured him that that would be perfect, but alas, we found none. Apparently, satan's gardeners don't frequent the Depot.

(We also looked at weed'n'feed products to help our grass. One promised to kill all weeds. We didn't buy that one, fearing it would take out our entire lawn.)

Finally, we settled on these:




Yes, they are very beautiful, but for how long? And will I be able to sleep knowing that I have the blood (uh...sap?) of these innocents on my hands?