Monday, 29 August 2011

Guest post: Frustration (by Leslie - @MissilePanda)

Its Not All a Bed of Roses

For many people gardening sums up old people pottering around a well tendered, mature garden or perhaps the idea of people having a “good life” moment and growing their own veg. For me gardening tends to fill me with rage, frustration and annoyance. ( I still love it- sort of)

When I moved into my current home my front garden was mainly chip stones and one flower bed and in the last year I have spent much time toiling over removing them and trying to replace them with plants. So far so good you might think-not so and this is where the frustration comes in. I am utterly impatient and I want things to grow to their full height and glory yesterday, I hate the waiting on things to grow. I planted some gladioli bulbs last year and only now in the second week of August have they flowered, every day since the spring I have watched the them grow taller and taller but with no sign of flowers, just the ultimate in teasing and frustration for me. JUST GROW ALREADY!!! *sigh* even the mere thought of these bloody flowers sends me into a rage and my blood pressure sky high.

The first signs of a green shoot poking through the dark earth is a sight of joy for many, the first signs of life, a sign of things to come. Whenever I see green shoots, dark clouds come over head and my mood changes, as usually it is a sign “The Enemy” has returned, the enemy in question being, nasty, spreading, vile super weed the field horsetail. This weed is the absolute bane of my life, weed killer doesn't touch it and digging it up doesn't help as it only returns to haunt me. Normal everyday weeds don't bother me quite so much, some of them even have pretty flowers or can be good for bees and other wildlife, the field horsetail has no such redeeming qualities, it is just and ugly horrible weed whose main purpose appears to be annoying me.

Another thing that winds me up about gardening is plants dying or just not thriving in general. Ever since I started thinking about having something slightly prettier in the garden other than chip stones I have wanted a parottia persica or the Persian Ironwood, its leaves turn all shades of pink, orange and red in the autumn. Perfect I thought for a nice bit of autumn colour, having ordered and received my lovely (if tiddly) tree a few months back and planted it in a nice sunny spot in the garden it has been less than happy to say the least. It's leaves are turning brown and it generally looks a bit sad and drab and I have no idea how to help it. It's just another irritating bit of stress I don't need.

If anything it just goes to show that gardening is not all about giant marrows, neatly trimmed lawns and pretty flowers and that sometimes it is just a pain in the backside and you wonder why you even bothered starting it in the first place. Anyway, all this talk of gardening has me all stressed, maybe  I will go into the garden to calm down, there again best not.


This is the third in a collection of guest posts about a true gardener's emotions. None of this Monty Don perfection nonsense. The full collection is over on The Guest Bed page, so to get Sophie (@tastebudgardens) take on Love and share in Linnie's Disappointment, click here and keep an eye out for the next installment...

Do also visit their blogs and webpages:

Sophie -
Linnie -
Leslie -

1 comment:

linniew said...

You mean the plants don't always grow just like the catalog or seed packet or advertisement shows? I hate that.

The Hapless Kitchen Gardener

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I only feel hapless because some people make it look easy to grow 10 ft marrows or a banquet of greens whereas my courgettes got nabbed by killer slugs and I only got one raspberry. So tips and stories from people less hapless than I are more than welcome. As a disclaimer though, none of my comments should be taken as expert advice on which you can rely! © Unless stated otherwise, and with the exception of guest content where that guest retains copyright, all photos and posts are the copyright of Tom Carpen and may not be used without permission.