The Gardeners
I’ve been racking my brains trying to think of the best way to introduce us – my Mum and I.
It’s my Mum (let’s call her Jenny) (and Dad’s) garden but we both work in it. It is generally a cordial relationship, occasionally argumentative, once we stopped speaking to each other (a stone wall and ownership of rocks was involved) but things are generally settled with a glass of wine at the end of the day.
Jenny is all about the plants. She buys plants and then figures out where they can go in the garden. Her knowledge is awe inspiring. If they are rare, all the better. When she finds a new plant she wants, she’s like a terrier on the trail. It’s even worse since she discovered the internet. I’m constantly amazed at the things she finds. And how she manages to find places for them all in the garden.
Her attitude is all or nothing. She wants things done yesterday or not at all. This has resulted in two outcomes – one, a daughter who is a doer, and two, some interesting developments in the garden, mostly when I am not there. Luckily, she gets over things quickly too. Except her love of cherubs and fairies. There are a lot of cherubs and fairies dotted around the garden. I try to curb the numbers but she glues them down with epoxy glue so they’re pretty stuck, I find it’s easier to resign myself to live with them instead. Plus they make her happy so who am I to judge?
I (Holly) on the other hand tend to be more about art and design. I love plants but I also love the way they work together to create an effect. Colours, textures, shapes – that’s my thing. I am also the only one who sits in the garden. Mum is always on the move, rushing through. I like to sit and contemplate. This may be construed as laziness but what’s the point of a garden if you don’t sometimes stop and just be in it? Especially with a cup of tea or glass of wine.
Having said that, I am constantly roped into things by my Mum. I’ve built stone walls, cut my hands to pieces smashing bottles, fallen through glass windows, nearly broken my back pulling out cemented in poles, climbed into, over and under a variety of holes, constructions and bushes – all directed by my wonderful mother. To be honest though, I wouldn’t have it any other way…