My Aunt Jeanne was a tireless gardener, and during the summers, she was always showing up at our house in her muddy flip-flops with a pass-along plant (or two). I could almost hear my mom’s silent groan (one more chore), but I loved the camaraderie of the plants and the connection they gave me to my family. Even in Memphis, I have balloon flowers from Uncle Bobby’s garden in Maryland, and he has yellow woodland poppies from me.
These days, I grow lots of native plants, and natives make babies, so every spring and fall I dig up a new crop of pass-alongs. Typically, I take them to my friend Victoria, because I know she actually will plant them.
Here’s Victoria in her backyard, and she’s just planted my spiderwort, woodland poppies, columbine, wild geraniums, and sunflowers in what she fondly calls her Zen garden. “Half the time, I end up planting on top of other plants,” she explains. “But it all works out.”
I’m thinking Victoria’s cat Leo has something to do with the garden’s success. He especially likes to hang out on this table, near a fragrant spread of peppermint.
That's one sweet garden Victoria has, but I'd keep my eye on that cat.
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