The wildflower garden is getting there

For many years, I wanted a knee wall built at our parking area. My first husband refused, my one serious "boyfriend" refused, and the Lord of the Manor refused. I didn't ask because I wanted to see them work hard. I asked because they were physically stronger than me. Even Himself could have done it the first time I asked him almost thirty years ago.  

Back in 2020, I did it myself. It was very difficult to do. Rocks are heavy. I'm still angry that none of them cared enough to do it for me. 

Fast forward three years and the wildflower garden behind the knee wall is showing promise. I can visualize what it will be in a few years. I have an old-fashioned iris from my great-grandmother's garden, a row of Stella d-Oro daylilies, Siberian iris, a red peony, and two seed packs of wildflowers that the seeds have sprouted and are growing. The row of blue wildflowers along the back are lovely. I just wish I knew what they were!

I'm hopeful that next year even more seeds will sprout on their own. I want it to be wild and free to grow in whatever direction it takes. This will certainly annoy the Lord of the Manor, but he had his chance to issue input and now he doesn't get a say. 

Is that petty of me? I don't care. Building that wall myself was an attitude adjustment I'm sure he's sorry he forced upon me. I have my wall. I have a jumble of wildflowers. 

Empowerment comes when we least expect it, and in ways we can't foresee. Be open to it.

The Lady of The Hideaway

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, wildflowers, knee wall, empowerment, rural living, country lifestyle, a writer's life, gardening, stacked stone wall, 

Wildflowers and Iris

Two years ago I built a dry-stack knee wall. I had a little help from the John Deere 1023, but I lifted and stacked the stones. That little wall was something I wanted for a very long time, and I'm just pleased as punch with it! There's a backstory to the building of this tiny wall in that it took decades to be accomplished, and it turned out to be quite the life lesson. 

My original plan, way back in the 1980s, was for that to be a spot where a pickup could be backed up and the tailgate lowered to drive a mower into the bed. Time marched on without the wall and priorities changed. Instead of being a handy built-in ramp, it is a spot for a wildflower garden.

Isn't it strange how things turn out? 

Last spring, I scattered a pack of wildflower seeds and by the end of the summer, there was a pretty little garden blooming. I like the look of cottage gardens but have always found them difficult to maintain. The knee wall garden is small enough to easily pull weeds, although at this point in the season I don't yet know what are weeds and what are young wildflowers. It's a dilemma. 

The spousal unit, who could not be bothered in twenty-six years to build the wall for me, requested I plant a clump of Siberian iris for him. I should not have honored his request, all things considered, but I did. I also added a start of a very old-fashioned yellow/brown iris the start of which came from my great-grandmother's garden. 

Sometimes in life, original plans don't work out but what we end up with is ten times better. So it is with my little wildflower garden. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

Holly Tree Manor, The Hideaway, cottage gardens, knee wall, John Deere 1023, doing it yourself, simple country pleasures, a writer's life, rural living, wildflowers, disappointments, original plans, life lessons

A "what is it" wildflower

Last year I sowed a pack of wildflower seeds above the little knee wall I built. It produced some pretty flowers and I loved the cottage garden feel of it. I knew then I'd sow seeds there again this year regardless of what may have self-seeded. 

This little orange bloomer lived over our winter. I had no clue what it is and so I turned to Google for a bit of help. Google found an image of a Siberian Wildflower that's a match. Okay... something from Siberia wouldn't find our winters daunting. 

I'm not sure the name of the flower matters all that much. It's a pretty little thing and I'm happy to have four of them blooming, even if one is out in front of the wall and will be in danger of being decimated by the weed-whacker. 

This year's seeds have been sown and now I'm keeping an eye on the soil for signs of sprouting. Sometimes it really is the simple country pleasures that brighten our days. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor (The Hideaway)

A bit of autumn bloom

Earlier this year I accomplished something I long wanted - a knee wall at a problematic bank. Many, many years ago, the bank was created when we leveled the ground to form a parking area. Over time, rocks got tossed there and it became a problem area. There was no way to mow so the area needed to be weed-whacked. It wasn't a fun chore.

I asked my first husband to build a dry-stacked stone wall. He didn't.

I asked the next live-in to build a dry-stacked stone wall. He didn't.

I asked the current spousal unit to build a dry-stacked stone wall. He didn't.

 
And so I finally built it myself. 

I've always been capable of doing it, but that's not the point. The point is, and what I'll never forget or forgive, is how much easier it would have been if one of those men had deigned to use their male strength to lift and stack the stones. 

What I'll never forget or forgive is how none of those men would give me something I asked for and wanted badly enough to actually ask them to do it for me. I'll never understand why they never said they wouldn't do it, they just never did. Lazy, perhaps? Controlling me? I think so. 

That resentment is something I need to let go of. I did it myself. Maybe it was the universe driving home the point I can't depend on any man. 

But the universe has rewarded me with some autumn flowers. After the wall was built, I hopped on the John Deere 1023 and backfilled with some good composted soil, and scattered the contents of a few cheap seed packets on the fresh dirt. The results were slow to develop, but here at the end of 2020, I have zinnias and cosmos blooming. It's a pleasing sight to come home to. 

Next spring, I'll scatter seeds again and see what happens. And woe to the man who makes any comment, even to say I was right and the flowers on top of the wall are nice to see. 

The Lady of Holly Tree Manor