I don’t really have a favorite season. I love spring for the new growth, fall for the feeling of preparation and “setting by” for later, summer for the heat and big changes in my landscape that I’ve been working toward all year, and winter for being able to relax. But August is probably my favorite month, where I slow down and putts, for lack of a better word. I’m still getting things done outside, but it’s tweaking, sort of like a line edit, where you just nibble at things you’ve been working on all year. Filling in here, a splash of color there. The ground is already prepped, so it’s easy. This weekend was full of puttsing around, and I totally enjoyed it.
Kicking off my Sunday of puttsing was a trip to my favorite home improvement store where I got a trunk full of “promise plants,” as in “I know I’m ugly, but I promise I’ll grow.” These are the heat-scorched uglies that forgot to be watered or the excess from too vigorous buying practices. The remainders, perhaps. (Why am I seeing everything relating to writing this morning?) Nasty, but cheap at 75% off. I could indulge in a little free-flow buying myself. I have enough orchids, but how can I turn down the little darling when he was 75 cents? Daises for a buck? I’ll take five.
Actually, most of my plantings the last month have been from the sale cart. I don’t mind if they’ve flowered already, and I plan to go back next week for the purple cone flowers that they have at full price right now. If they’re on sale, I’ll get some. If not, then that’s okay, too. It’s the hunt, not the kill, where the satisfaction is.