For the first time in my life, this year, I realize there is not enough time.
Not enough time to grow everything I want to grow.
Not enough time to garden. If I’m lucky, healthwise, I’ll live and garden into my 80s, but that’s only twenty years away. There’s also a strange phenomenon that as you grow older, time moves faster, so twenty years to a thirty-year-old is completely different than to a 60-year-old.
I turn 61 in September.
Not enough time to fix everything that is broken.
After the wildfire in March, I spent a lot of my garden time simply trying to fix what was broken and burned. Fortunately, it happened early enough that the perennials in the gardens were barely up.
‘Millenium’ alliums, for example, had burned tips, but they grew out of it.
Unfortunately, I lost two Japanese maples and some shrubs, and a lot of things had to be cut back to the ground, like the ‘Carefree Beauty’ rose bush I started from a cutting years ago, along with my spicebush. The good news is they have returned with vigor. I’m still working on my ‘Peggy Martin’ rose, devastated by the ice storm of 2020 and last winter’s extremely cold winter. Peggy doesn’t love the cold.
Neither do I.
Our drip irrigation burned up in many places throughout the garden because embers fell on it, but we replaced it and also got some help fixing it. We also had insurance, a really good policy we’d paid on for years, so we were able to replace a bunch of fencing.
I spent a lot of spring doing garden triage.
I think I was in shock for much of spring, although I just kept putting one foot in front of the other.
You see, I feel like a steward of my 7.5 acres, and some of it is really ugly right now, like the burned-up trees across the street. I know it will grow back, but I also know we’re going to have to bulldoze those trees. They are a silent reminder of the fear and chaos of that day.
I’m not whining, either. I realize how fortunate we are.
We didn’t lose our home, but our neighborhood is so quiet now. About half the people who once lived here still do. Many are now in travel trailers and mobile homes because that’s what they can afford. My once-established neighborhood feels transient, much like time.
Not enough time for hot weather, but time for Growing Floret.
It was hot this week, so I had time to watch season two of Growing Floret on Discovery Plus. You can also watch it on Magnolia and Max. The theme of season two is all about legacy.
A rabbit hole about not enough time.
It was a true rabbit hole for me. I bet I’m one of the few who binged the entire season in two afternoons. Although Erin Benzakein and her husband Chris are in their 40s, they feel the clock ticking too, and Erin is making plans for many things to keep her farm going while sharing knowledge with others.
I found myself tearing up at the first episode, where she took on her friend Anne Belovich’s rambling roses. Erin wrote about her rose experience in parts I, visiting Anne’s home and taking cuttings; II, propagating old roses; III, specialty rose nurseries in the U.S.; and IV, an interview with Anne Belovich, on the Floret blog. It’s worth wading through.
And, if you think you don’t have enough time to learn to garden, note that Anne Belovich didn’t come to roses until she was 60. In her 90s, she wrote six books, five of which were about roses.
By the way, I grow a lot of my roses on their own roots, which is why I was able to save ‘Carefree Beauty’ by cutting her to the ground. ‘Carefree Beauty’ is not an old garden rose. She was hybridized by Dr. Griffith Buck and introduced in 1977. She is also known by the found name, ‘Katy Road Pink,’ and she’s been in my garden for 35 years.
In the deepest part of my soul, I understood the urgency of saving Anne’s roses and getting them out into commerce. In the same episode, Erin then met Gregg Lowery, who has championed old roses for years through his nursery and then nonprofit, The Friends of Vintage Roses. Lowery is in his 70s.
People are growing older. Pollinators are endangered. So are birds. Some plants and seeds are also in danger of disappearing. Gardening and flower farming are always tenuous too.
There’s never enough time. I feel a sense of urgency to share what I know about gardening more than ever.
That’s why I do so many different things, from making videos on Instagram–even though I wish I were thinner, younger, prettier—, to garden coaching to speaking, to writing, to co-hosting a garden podcast, to answering questions at our open garden once or twice in spring and fall, etc., etc.
I don’t give a fig about being an Instagram influencer.
I work with brands I like and trust, so I can continue this blog and the podcast. It costs money for hosting and the platforms to make good content, especially if your blog is 17 years old and full of photos. The back end of blogging isn’t as simple as it once was either, so I need help to keep it healthy.
I know I reach people on Instagram because they send me questions and comments, and I try my best to answer every single one. When I don’t know the answer I say that too.
I see your joy, sorrow, and frustration. Growing living things takes time and worthy effort.
Because you’re dealing with living plants and seeds, there is always the possibility, nay probability, of failure. Right now, my tomatoes have been through the wringer this spring. They’ve had blossom end rot from all of the rain we’ve had. So. Much. Rain. Today it was suddenly 100 degrees, and all of the blossoms dried up on the stems. Because I’ve gardened forever, I still had a good harvest, but everything in the garden is feeling the heat, including me.
However, this morning dawned orchid pink, and while I still feel there is never enough time, I will keep doing what I do. I want to help you have the garden of your dreams, whatever that may be.
If I can help, please let me know.
Three thoughts on this reflective post: 1.) Yer Right to fear Rosette. My garden was “introduced” to it from a Knock-out Rose from a box store. Ironic, no? Because it certainly knocked out every rose I had. And, unfortunately, the host of the vector, Rosa multiflora is rampant here in Cherokee County. I’m genociding everyone of them I can, but: You can call me Don Quixioti or label my efforts as life-long job security, as this invasive rose from China will be here long after I’ve moved on. In a silver lining kind of thing, perhaps the blazes of Spring might give y’all a chance to get ahead of this pretty Typhoid Mary?? 2.) Yeah, we’re all getting older, but it still beats the alternative!! I’ve also had to re-think my gardens and goals.. and NO, we cannot grow it all. I”ve had to re-evaluate and re-prioritize my interests and collections. But, as a result, I’m slowly becoming better at the fewer specimens I am focusing upon. “It’s NOT called hoarding if’n it’s plants,” Right?? And, in another shade of silver (lining) I find I’m slowly becoming more appreciative of those I still nurture. Olde friends are worth their weight in gold….Nay, they be Priceless!! 3.) I still remember shocking everyone at a grower’s conference one year when someone else posted a slide of a plant, and I innocently exclaimed: “Oh, I’ve killed that one a few times!!” The looks of shock and guilt were split half and half amongst the small crowd, but, slowly, a few of the wisest there began grinning or nodding their heads. You’ve said it yerself. We are dealing with living spirits, and one of the dozen or so qualifications for defining IF a thing is living or not, is that it has an end. It dies. (Basic Bio-chemistry 101.) Therefore, to assume that nothing in our collections or lives will ever die, is not just arrogant, but foolish. Further, I pay attention to those of us who do kill plants. I’ve learned SO much from them, as well as from my own dramas. I am to the point in my career and life that the only thing which still vexes me about endings are the ones in which I haven’t a clue as to WHY. Especially the ones where I’ve done everything to the textbook correctness, and still have dead wood. Perhaps the sages are right. Our gardens and experiences therein are a sliver of life in general, and there’s still much mystery about? And, as well, there are still factors which are well outside of our “control.”
I told my husband that I wanted to plant a Bracken’s Brown Magnolia in our side yard, and he said, “Won’t that get too big?” And I said, “By that time, we won’t be here!” Yes, your mindset changes when you hit 60, but mine is much improved since I will be retiring at the end of this year and will have more time to devote to the things that I enjoy but are a lot of work (gardening, reading, crafting) instead of sitting behind a desk 40 hours a week.
Hey Melissa, congratulations on your retirement! It will be like a breath of fresh air I’m sure. Your mindset does change, but you will get a second wind with retirement. Time just goes by so quickly for me these days. I just realize I have an expiration date. Ha!
I enjoy your posts, podcasts, blogs, all of it. You’ve been an amazing resource for me as I wrestle with the Texas climate, saving me from some mistakes/missteps, and answering questions about specific situations in my own garden. You’ve eloquently hit on what I’ve been dwelling on, not enough time for all of the things.
Thanks for being real and blessings for this day!
Gretchen
Hi Gretchen, thank you so much for those kind words. Sometimes, I feel like i am writing in a vacuum. That’s probably why I still post to Instagram. It’s wonderful to get some feedback, and I guess this post touched many people the way Growing Floret did me. Which part of Texas do you live in? Do you follow GardeningwithCharla on Instagram? She lives in Texas. I find her information helpful too. Many blessings to you too!~~Dee
You are one of my favorite gardeners to follow on Instagram and Facebook Dee. You are so giving. You’ve taught me a lot.
I think you look fantastic. Healthy, bright eyed, chipper, quick witted. Your love of your land and gardening shines through.
I feel age sneaking into my thoughts more these days too, but I think we are meant to sit with those thoughts and feelings for a while. September will come and I hope you have a fantastic birthday!
Hi Linda, thank you so much for those affirming thoughts! I just want people to know they can be successful gardeners even when it’s difficult. I love my birthday actually. So many of my friends didn’t get the opportunity to grow older, and I miss them and hope to see them again one day. Many hugs my friend!~~Dee
I’m in my 40s, and having the same thoughts about there “not being enough time”, as we prepare to replace hundreds of trees burned in the fire. There won’t be enough time for me to see them truly grow up!
Hey Anita, my heart goes out to you. I feel the same about our trees. So far, we’ve been sitting with it and thinking about it. I bet you will see them grow up. You’ve got a good 40 years left my friend and neighbor. I figure every tree I plant is just one more beautiful gift Bill and I give to the world. Look into Arizona cypress to replace some of your evergreens. It likes our sandy soil. Oh, and hang in there. Only now do I realize how traumatizing the fire was. ~~Dee
Lovely, thoughtful post for all of us longtime gardeners. I haven’t had anything like your issues and yet feel overwhelmed these days. Heat, drought, Canada smoke and an aging garden that needs more attention and work than I anticipated. You get your garden to the vision you dreamed of but don’t realize it doesn’t stop growing and changing.
Hi Linda, one of the things that surprised me was I didn’t realize some of my plants would grow old and die too. Also, I was in that Canada smoke last week while we were in Milwaukee. It was horrendous and made me sick. I also didn’t realize I would slow down some. I just keep staying strong and I do get some help a few times a year. Here’s hoping the smoke clears, and you have a beautiful fall.~~Dee
Dee, I was very touched by your post. I guess we all get to that point sometime in this phase of our life where you realize time is running out. I’m 65 in September and looking forward to Medicare! Who would have thought! Age never bothered me before 60. I have felt a lot of the same things you’re saying, but never dealt with a fire like yours. I tell myself, I don’t know what the future holds, just keep trying to do what you want to do. Even if I can’t do all that I used to be able to do! Keep on gardening and rejuvenating your soul, Dee. I enjoy your posts and podcasts so much. They always leave me feeling so positive and happy. Who knows what you will accomplish! Thank you for all you do for me and others. June
Hi June, I guess I just realized I have an expiration date. LOL. I just don’t know when it is. Thank you for your beautiful words. I really do feel compelled to share about gardening. I know it beautifies the world, and I’m so grateful for people like Erin who are also giving back. She has a much bigger audience, but she still has doubts and agonizes over many of the same things I do. In her heart of hearts, she is a gardener, and that makes us kin. ~~Dee
Darling friend, a beautiful post, thank you for inspiring. I, too, feel the years. What a gift you have given us all for years. Love–
You too Rosebud, you too. I love your writing. I love you. Thank you for being my friend all these years.~~Dee
So true, Dee. And yet, Anne B. is an example of all you can still accomplish. You are such a great garden communicator, and so many folks are learning so much from you. Plus, there’s the simple joy of sharing your garden hopes and dreams. 🙂
Hi Beth, I think that’s what it finally comes down to, the simple joy that all of us share. We want that for others. Can’t wait to visit more in September in Philly. Much love.~~Dee
Thoughts about not having enough time enter my head often these days. I guess we just make the best of it and remember how lucky we are to be able to still be on this earth and healthy. We are truly blessed. So, garden on my friend!
Dana, we are blessed to be growing older. So many do not. ~~Dee
You’re the best, Dee. It’s very kind of you to share your struggles too. And, NO, there is never enough time to do all that desire. So 61 in September. How are we going to celebrate you?!
Much love, Jennie
Hey Jennie, we should all go out and celebrate! How blessed we are to be 61 and still have things we love to do. I keep thinking about Bruce Willis and how he is slowly losing his mind. He was one of my heartthrobs, and I grieve his illness as though I actually know him partly because his lovely wife shares their struggles. I think it’s important to share our struggles too. Otherwise, it isn’t real, is it?~~Dee
Well said, Dee. Lots of introspection here and things we are all thinking about. I’ll be 65 in January (and everyone who sells Medicare insurance is calling me these days!) and realize I can’t grow it all either! I need to watch season 2 of Floret!
Carol, …and they will call you every fall from then on. gail
Gail, ha, lucky us!~~Dee