Your very First Garden

[Biggles]

Looking through some old photographs I came across this one which was my very first garden.
Just thought other members may have photographs of their very first garden--



It would be interesting to see them-
This is a photograph of part of my present garden--

[Shrubrose]

What a lovely splash of colour in the foreground myacer. What's that silvery green tallish plant on the left about half way up the piccie? Looks interesting.

Cant see details in the first photo too well but I love the little flower in the middle of the lawn

[Biggles]

shrubrose said:

What a lovely splash of colour in the foreground myacer. What's that silvery green tallish plant on the left about half way up the piccie? Looks interesting.

Cant see details in the first photo too well but I love the little flower in the middle of the lawn

That is another Apple Tree!!
I know the details in the Blk/wht photograph are not very sharp--taken with one of those first Brownie Cameras--(I am ancient you know!!)-but still nice to look back after all these years.
The borders were mainly Lupins and Annual seeds scattered around--
That little flower in the middle of the lawn--which looks like a meadow-(the lawn I mean) has turned into one of my lovely caring daughters--The seed was planted about 45 years ago and with our loving care is now that age. The oldest of four being 54 years old and that little flower the youngest.

[Shrubrose]

I remember Brownie cameras too you know. My first was a brownie-type kodak and boy was I proud of that. It cost me about £11 in the sixties. I think I still have it somewhere.

Well you have been prolific - and not just in the garden Hope they take good care of their mum.

Well, I would never have thought that was an apple tree. But when I look at it now I can actually see the apples.

The garden that I class as MY first garden was when I started living alone, following a divorce. It was designed from scratch and of a simple design. My father helped me (hard landscaping) with it and it was planted with freebies, finds and the odd purchase (money was tight). That was 17 years ago and I have been back once to see it and it looked lovely. Fully established and the bones of it remained although the planting had developed considerably. I do have photos but will need to scan these (OH will have to help with that methinks). Heaven help me but I planted leylandii along the rear fence so that I wouldn't be overlooked. Dont remember whether that was still there!

[Biggles]

I look forward to your photographs--I wonder if any other members have any old photographs of their first garden but perhaps most of them are having the pleasure of designing and starting afresh-- I just have a very small 'patch' for my vegetables near the greenhouse--wish I had more space but it would mean taking some of the borders out!! It is just right for us now there are only two to feed--and not a family with growing appetites.
The start of gardening for you would have been very therapeutic and would help you with the stress of your situation. Hope things are fine for you now--

[4pygmies]

My first "patch" was a bit of my parents garden when I was about 7 which I planted with Petunias. I can still remember how proud I was when my beloved Grandad said they were the best he'd ever seen, better than his..sob...still miss him, he died when I was 11. The first proper garden I had was when I was a student, we lived in a terraced house in Loughborough which backed onto the Grand Union canal. I grew (tried to grow...) all sorts of vegetables and fruit and I began my love affair with herbs then. It was very early on I learnt the difference between stinking Mayweed and Chamomile - one makes lovely tea, the other doesn't . My parents used to send me packets of seeds.....ah, happy memories....

[Tig]

Not our first garden, that was a concrete back yard! But this was the second - after we moved in 1962 - my dear Dad trying to mow an overgrown patch of grass! What a mower, definately rotary ;D



Tig

[Shrubrose]

oh yes myacer, it was very therapeutic. I threw myself into it. And it is why it was so special. It helped me 'move on'.

4P, Grandads are special. They take great delight in us and our doings dont they? We cant repay them for time is against us. Needless to say, their delight is taken in their time, not ours. We live with the memories.

BTW, I do not know the difference between stinking mayweed and chamomile. Although the terminology might give me a clue. ;D

[4pygmies]

One sip of my stinking Mayweed tea would have told you everything you needed to know....bleah...... ;D

[JennyWrenn]

Oh what a shame I havent a photo as I loved my little garden - I was about 10 when my parents "allowed" me a patch

I always grew seeds that came in a Variety Mix packet plus virginia stock and candytuft
Ah what happy memories what a nice Thread

[Deleted]

my first garden is the one i have now.
we had gardens as a kid but i had no interest in what was growing in it .
i loved making mud pies and that was about it.
then i moved i out of home and straight into a flat and i longed for a garden.
finally nine years later i got one and i still have it now.
i caught the bug very quickly and i have changed it from a plain green square into what i have today.i love it because i know that i have done it all(with mother natures help of course)
xxxxxxx

[Biggles]

jennywrenn said:

Oh what a shame I havent a photo as I loved my little garden - I was about 10 when my parents "allowed" me a patch

I always grew seeds that came in a Variety Mix packet plus virginia stock and candytuft
Ah what happy memories what a nice Thread

Come on members lets hear of your very first garden--or allotment and how you are progressing with it! Tigridia has shown her/his garden with dad mowing the front garden--Have you moved or are you still living there with Dad doing all the hard work? ;D
RBJ-- Your garden sounds great and you have worked hard-- Good for you! Keep going--
Nice to read the replies up till now,
Can you remember how you first got the 'Gardening Bug'?
4pygmies has told us of how his Grandad encouraged him-(Bless him and he would be very proud of you now) so I am sure others have similar memories too of disasters or successes. ;D

[Jardack]

My current garden is the first one I have had that I have really wanted to work on myself - and I am learning as I go.

But as a child I used to love helping my gramps in his garden (mainly eating the strawberries) so have upload a couple of pics of his garden. He loved his garden and his plants and would have loved helping me in my garden (instead I get my nan when she can!) The first is an early shot of him in the garden before the new greenhouse went in - the old one in the back stayed there.


The second is a somewhat dodgy one of me after he'd done a bit of planting...



The greenhouse was always full of tomatoes, beans etc and there was a HUGE strawberry patch ;D

[Cheerypeabrain]

what a lovely thread!

The first garden I can remember had very few plants in it...but it DID have a telescope on a plinth in the centre of the lawn!

Yes...our family were the street wierdos

[owdboggy]

Afraid to say that cameras were not invented when I made my first garden! Well perhaps only just invented. No one thought to take pictures of gardens in those days. I can tell you the story though ,if you are interested.
Bet not many people got into garden construction because of travel sickness though.
Long piece, will post it in sections. Stop me if you are bored.
Grandad's Sweet peas.
Uncle Joe had bought an old car and rebuilt it. During the summer he had offered to take my parents and me out for trips. It was supposed to be a treat for me as my sister Mary had gone away on holiday for a week with one of her friends.
The first and only journey that we made turned into a disaster. The weather was fine, warm and sunny, but not too hot. The car ran perfectly. The place we went to was beautiful. The disaster was me. I was travel sick. Not straight away, then we could have come home. No, I started when it was too late for that. I was no mildly ill either, but violently and frequently. Uncle Joe shook his head and said that he had never seen anyone dredging up his boots like that before, or ever wanted to again. While the car moved I was sick, when it stopped, I stopped. In stop and start fashion we finally arrived at our destination.
This was one of those large public gardens, I cannot remember its name or even in which town it was. There were swings and roundabouts, even an Ice Cream Kiosk. However it was not those entertainments that saved the day for me. In any case I was feeling far too delicate to go up and down and as for round and round, just the though made me shudder. Even a promised ice-cream was turned down and as for the picnic lunch, I turned green. Joe said that it was the first time that he had ever seen me not eating never mind turning down one of Mum's cakes.
What made the day for me were the flower beds. The houses at the top end of our road had small areas at the front. They were about three feet wide and as long as the house. Hordes of children playing in them stopped anything from growing except the tough old privet hedges that everyone had. Our local park was really just grass and non-flowering evergreen shrubs. The town was too poor after the war to go in for fancy bedding out. So, I had never seen anything like those flowers.
Roses, petunias, snapdragons, pansies and hundreds more, hid the soil. There was even a clock made out of plants. I exhausted my adults dragging them over every inch of the place, demanding to know the name of every plant, determined not to miss one display." I don't know" became my mother's constant cry. Fortunately, a friendly gardener was able to name the delights for me.
It was only the memory of those flowers which kept me alive during the even more horrific journey home and the three days afterwards which it took me to recover from the motion sickness.
From then on, until a good hiding stopped me, I pestered my parents to move to a house with a garden. They tried to explain that they could not afford that kind of place and even if they could, the houses were just not available. There was a National Housing Shortage. The smacking drove my obsession underground, so to speak. I began to read every book on gardening and flowers in the Public Library. I took to cycling round the better-class areas looking at the gardens, until winter robbed them of interest. I dreamt of getting an allotment, but there was a hugely long waiting list.
To make matters worse my mother's sister and her husband moved into a new council house with a garden, front and rear. I heard Uncle Frank boasting that he was going to grow prize winning Sweet peas like his father used to do before the War. That did it, but hook or by crook I had to have a garden.

[Spruance]

That's very interesting OB.

Roll on part two!

[owainglyndwr]

My little patch is my 1st garden. With no memories of past generations being gardeners Apart from my Grand-dad who grew Dahlias many many many many moons ago

Looking at the advice and pictures on here is so beneficial to us novices. I can cut a tree down in seconds but growing one is a totally different ball - game

[Shrubrose]

Methinks owd boggy you got your garden. Do tell us how. I for one would love to hear.

[owdboggy]

Our house had a long back yard, surface with tiles. These had been laid on a bed of foundry ash. Many of them were loose and fairly easily lifted. My father had just completed, with my help (getting in the way, he said) changing the old wash-house into a large kitchen. One of the things that we put in was a long picture window. That and the loose tile gave me an idea. I now knew exactly where I was going to put my garden. I measured the new kitchen wall. There was enough room to make a bed 12 feet long and 3 feet wide. Only 36 square feet, but it was the best I was going to get.
Somehow I had to prove that nobody would miss that part of the yard and that Mum could still hang out her washing. First of all I filled the area with my go-cart (wooden box, plank and pram wheels), bits of bicycle and lots of other things. None of it was quite rubbish, that would have been given to the binmen. The soil was another problem all together.
One Saturday morning at the beginning of March, Stew, my best friend, came into the yard.
"The Sycamore Avenue gang have challenged us to a game of Ruby on the Rec. field, are you fit?" He asked.
I was always ready to play Rugby, except at school. "When?"
"This afternoon," said Stew. "Simon's gone to call for everyone else."
"We need more than seven, there's at least twenty of them." I said.
"I know," replied Stew. "You and me have got to go and ask the Foster St. mob if they want to play."
"OK! Mum, I'm off out." After my sledding troubles I had to keep her informed of my whereabouts.
She came to the back door, "Where to?"
"Down Foster Street to make up a Rugby team. Can I play this afternoon on the Rec field?" I was hopeful. I had been good....ish.
She nodded, "Be careful."
OK, Mum. See you later."
It did not take long to round up six bodies from Foster Street and after lunch we met the Sycamore Rd. Gang on the Recreation ground. This was an area of Rugby and Football pitches owned by the Council. They did not stop us using the pitches on Weekdays as long as we kept well away from the Cricket square and any mid week proper games, which we did. It was not far from home.
Simon said. "I'll be captain."
"No, you won't" said Noddy. "It's my ball so I'm captain."
Simon muttered but had to agree.
Noddy tossed up and won which was no surprise as he used his special coin. The game began. It lasted all of five minutes. While all the players stood in a circle arguing about the rules a man came out of one of the gardens of the houses that backed onto the field. He was pushing a wheelbarrow full of garden rubbish. This he tipped onto a mound of soil at the edge of the field. Obviously seeing and hearing the argument he left the barrow and came over to us.
"Now then!" He said. "What's going on here?"
The position was explained to him.
"Right," he said. "Give me five minutes and I' ll referee for you."
As promised, five minutes later he was back. He was wearing boots and had a whistle. The game began again. It was a grand afternoon. Not only did he control the game, but he also seemed to know everything about Rugby. He turned the game into an immensely enjoyable coaching session. We lost the game by a couple of points, but it did not seem to matter. We had enjoyed ourselves far too much to complain. I had not played that well though my mind was elsewhere, on a mound of soil to be exact.
The man said, "Thank-you for an enjoyable afternoon." We were so surprised at him thanking us we almost forgot to thank him.
Before he reached his garden I caught up with him.
"Er. Mister."
"Yes, son?"
Thanks for refereeing, it was great."
"My pleasure!" He smiled.
"Er," I was a bit uncertain how to ask and the words came out in a rush. "Does this mound of soil belong to anyone?"
"Not really, that I know of, its mainly garden rubbish that won't go on the compost heap. It's been thrown here for years. Probably good soil by now. Why?
I answered with another question. "If someone came and took some of it away would anyone be,er,angry?"
"I doubt it, why?"
He looked like the kind of bloke you could trust. I told him. He did not laugh or tell me not to be silly instead he asked me a few questions about my plans and gave me some advice. He suggested standing the tiles upright around the garden to increase the depth of soil and to save a bit of digging.
Finally he said. "I'll not let anyone stop you from having some of that soil." He stopped and looked at me for a moment. "If you go ahead with this come and see me at Easter and I'll let you have some Sweet Pea plants."
I could not thank him enough, but he just said, "You'd better hurry or your mates will go without you."
I went.
"What was all that about?" Bob asked.
"Oh nothing, nothing, I was just saying thank-you."
I was not ready to tell the gang just yet. They were going to help me move the soil. The offer of plant would help me in persuading my parents. I had to have a garden now, so as not to let this man down.
When I got home I got changed and had a wash. Before tea I went into the yard and began tidying up my 'rubbish'. It did not take long to have the area clean.
At tea that evening, when we were all round the table, I said, "I've been thinking."
Dad said," I'll get the thermometer, he must be ill."
Mary sniggered. I ignored the insults and pressed on. "That stuff of mine in the yard was not in your way was it Mum?
"I didn't fall over it," she said. "But it was dreadfully untidy. Why?"
"If I took up the tiles where that rubbish was, there would be enough room to make a little garden." I said.
"You and your stupid gardening again," sneered Mary. "You can't make a garden in the yard it would be in Mum's way."
I bit my tongue. I was determined not to get into a row with her, that would only make my parents annoyed. I looked across at my Dad. You could tell he was thinking because his forehead was wrinkled. He said nothing though. He usually waited for Mum to decide anything.
"It would be nice to have a bit of colour in the yard." Mum said slowly. "But Mary's right, the yard is too small."
"But you just said that all that stuff of mine wasn't in your way. It will only take up the same amount of room." I was sweating a bit.
Mum and Dad exchanged glances. They did not seem to need to speak to know what the other was thinking, Funny that. "What about soil? It's only cinders under there and even I know nowt'll grow in that." Dad asked.
I was ready for that one. I explained about the soil on the Rec. Field and about the man. I finished with, "He promised me some Sweet Pea plants, so I can't let him down can I?"
No,I suppose not," said Mum with a smile.
I was winning.
Mary said, "I think it's a daft idea."
Nobody asked for your opinion," said Dad, "You can go and wash the dishes while we talk about it."
Mary went off in a huff. I did not let even the merest glimmer of a smirk cross my face. That would have been fatal. My parents wanted to know everything about 'the man' and whether the soil really was free to take. I really was sweating when Mum finally said, Aright, your Dad will check if it is OK. to take the soil. If it is you can do it."
I beamed.
"But!" she went on, "You'll have to look after it when it is finished."
"I will, I will, I promise!" I was so excited I flung my arms round her.
"Get off, you daft clot. You'll spill my tea." she said, but I could see she was pleased.
"I've got one question," said Dad. "Why Sweet peas?"
"Uncle Frank" I began.
"'Nuff said," smiled Dad.

[owdboggy]

The week went by agonisingly slowly until Dad came in from work on Friday evening. "I've been talking to you soil man. Did you not know who he is?" he asked.
"No! Why?" I was puzzled, What did it matter who he was?
"You are very lucky, his name is Joe Pickering," he went on.
I was still puzzled.
"He was one of the best Rugby referees I ever seen. He retired a couple of seasons back," finished Dad.
"What about the soil?" That's all I wanted to know about.
"He says it is OK. You can take as much as you want as long as you leave the field tidy." said Dad with an even bigger grin on his face.
I cheered.
Mary sniffed. "I still think it's a daft idea. And he'll get fed up with it by next week. And someone else will have to clean up the mess. And I was going to keep my things there."
Before I could say anything Dad gave her a hard look that sent her scurrying quickly upstairs.
Next morning I was up at the crack of dawn, well half past eight. The tiles were easy to lift and I stacked them carefully out of the way. Then I began to dig out the cinders. We had no wheel barrow so I loaded them into a bucket lashed onto my go-cart.
Opposite our house was an open space that we called Andy's Bank. It was about 50 yards square and already covered in cinders. All the children in the roads used it as a playground. Over the years it had been used as a sand pit by many generations of children. My cinders were just right for filling in the holes.
Bob came to see what I was doing.Since there was nothing else to do, and he liked grubbing around in the dirt, he joined in. Next Grubby turned up with his go-cart. Noddy and Stew brought spades. Finally Peter and Simon arrived. The whole gang were happily filling buckets and tipping the spoil on the bank.
I was very clever not one of them was asked to help. They all volunteered. Nor did I tell them why we were digging the trench. I gave them the impression that I was doing a job for my father.
When I went in for a drink, Mum was in the front room looking out of the window. From there she had a good view of Andy's Bank. She was laughing.
"What's tickling you?" I asked.
"Just look at that," she gasped.
I looked at her a bit worried. I had never heard her laughing like that before. Then I looked out of the Window. Stew, Grubby, Noddy and Bob appeared to be doing some sort of dance on the bank. They had their arms linked and they were shuffling round in a circle stamping their feet every now and then. They looked like something out of Zorba the Greek. I had to admit they did look funny.
"Don't let them see you,Mum or they'll stop." I warned her.
"What on earth are they doing?" she asked between giggles.
I told her," They are flattening out the cinders from the back yard."
"I see, Ah well, I suppose I'd better get on." She took a deep breath and went off upstairs.
With all of us working it did not take long to dig out the dirt to about 18 inches deep. The next step was to fetch the soil. I wanted the gang to help with that as well, but I did not think they would do it just as a favour for me. I did have a plan.
"Did you hear what one of the Sycamore Avenue Gang found on the edge of the Rec. field?" I asked when we were all sat in our yard, drinking some of Noddy's Mums home made Ginger Beer.
They all shook their heads. "What?" asked Stew.
"A real Roman coin." I said.
"Rubbish!" Grubby snorted.
"Honest!" I protested, with fingers crossed. "It was in a mound of soil at the top end. I'll bet there's more there."
Noddy looked interested, "We could go and have a look."
"We could be rich," said Simon.
"Come on lets go now," said Peter, jumping up.
"Hang on a bit," I said, "we don't want anyone knowing what we're doing.They'll only want a share. We should bring the soil back here, sieve it and then no-one but us will know when we find the treasure."
"What do we sieve it through?" Bob asked.
"Oh, that's no problem." I said airily, "Look at this." I went to the coal shed and brought out a garden riddle which I had borrowed from Uncle Frank
"Great!" said Simon
"Er, What are we going to do with the soil afterwards?" Asked Noddy.
"Oh, I hadn't though of that," says I, looking around as if for inspiration. I managed a big grin. "I know, we'll put it in the trench."
"Won't your Dad shout?" asked Bob.
"Not when he sees all the gold coins we'll find." I said.
That settled it. Go carts were rounded up, mother's buckets lashed to the seats, a variety of digging implements acquired, with or without owner's consent and the Rec. Field Grand Treasure Hunt got under way.

[owdboggy]

On the field I showed the gang the mound of soil. They started digging while I took a message from my mother to Mr. Pickering.
"I've come for the soil," I told him.
Do you need any help?" he asked.
"The gang have offered to move it," I said, "but don't say anything to them or they might get embarrassed and go home."
His eyes twinkled. "What yarn have you spun them?" He asked.
He was too nice to lie to so I told him about the treasure. He laughed and laughed. "You'd better make sure they find something, or they'll tear you to pieces." He could hardly speak.
"I'll think of something, I'll have to." My plan making had not got that far.
Still choking he said, "Let me know when you are on to the next to the last load and I'll see what I can do. Now buzz off before I laugh myself sick."
I buzzed off.
We worked hard until darkness, digging, wheeling and sieving. The small amount of stones, roots and other rubbish I took back myself. The soil went in to the trench. We found no Roman coins, but Simon found a penny so the day was not entirely wasted. When it was time to stop the trench was full.
Next morning I used the tiles to build a wall round the garden. Mum was very nice, mainly because I had very carefully cleaned up the yard and had a bath without groaning. She said, "For once you can miss Church, you'll want to get that finished while the weather's nice."
The gang were all Catholics and went to early Mass. They turned up still full of enthusiasm for the Hunt. By lunch time though, with no treasure they were beginning to get fed up. I reckoned one more load would do it.
I nipped into Mr. Pickering's garden and told him."We'll be back for one more lot."
"Righto," he said. "Just make sure you dig in the same place next time."
Mystified I nodded. The last trip was the most successful. It was Bob who caused it. Digging away half-heartedly with his mother's coal shovel he suddenly gave a yell and started scrabbling with his hands. Seconds later he was on his feet dancing around clutching something. When we finally caught up with him he displayed a beautiful golden coin. That did it. Every one started digging feverishly, filling the buckets until the carts creaked. Except me, I was not as gold struck as the others. My eyes kept straying to Mr Pickering's hedge where I could hear rustling.
Back at home the soil was sieved and a further thirteen coins uncovered. Six very excited and one worried boys gathered round to share out the spoils. While they had been frantically sieving I had taken a look at the coins. It struck me as odd that Roman coins should have the head of Queen Elizabeth II on them. Even I knew she was not that old.
It was Grubby who discovered that the outer gold covering came off, revealing, not more gold, but chocolate. "It's a swizz!" He shouted "A dirty con trick"
"Don't look at me!" I protested. "I didn't put them there." That was true.
They were all annoyed.
"Well I'm sorry" I said. "Oh heck!" I looked grim."How am I going to explain filling up the trench to me Dad?"
They began to collect up their spades and things.
"I'll bet me Dad makes us take it back." I went on.
They began to back out of the yard.
"Aw come on lads you wouldn't leave me to do it all on my own, would you?" I begged.
"Oh yes we will," said Simon.
"You miserable lot!" I shouted.
That brought my mother out. "What's going on here then, who's fighting?"
That was enough for the gang the left in a hurry.
"Whats up with them then?" She asked.
"Nothing!" I was all innocence.
You got you soil then, I see. Any bother?"
"No!" I said grinning" Easy as ...............eating chocolate." There's only this one load of rubbish to take back."
"Brush up the yard when you come back and dinner will be ready." She said as she went in.
I was happy to do it.
At Easter my Dad gave me the choice of Easter eggs or money. I took the money and bought three rose bushes, some seeds and canes for the Sweet peas. Grandad Acock gave me a trowel and Granny Jones a bag of fertiliser. On the first day of the Easter holiday I went to see Mr. Pickering.
"Come for your plants? "he smiled.
"Yes please if that is all right with you?"
"It is a pleasure," he said. "I haven't laughed so much for years. Are your mates speaking to you yet?"
"Yeah, they saw the funny side of it in the end, and they did get some chocolate." I said.
In his garden frame was a box of Sweet Pea plants. They were even labelled with my name I could only say "Thank-you" in a very small voice.
Planting was easy and then it was only a question of waiting. Those plants were the most cared for, cosseted, loved plants ever. They grew and they flowered, huge sweet smelling blooms on long straight stems. The crowning glory came when Uncle Frank did as he had boasted and won first prize at the local flower show with his Sweet Peas. He offered Grandad Jones a bunch for Granny Jones. Grandad looked at them and said, "No thanks our Billy's are better than those."

This is a true story, only the facts have been changed to hide the identity of the innocent.
Names changed and perhaps a little hyperbole, but that is how I made my first ever garden!

[jean]

Brilliant story Owdboggy ;D bet you can give us all some tips on sweetpea growing

[chickadeedeedee]

Wonderful thread and fantastic stories!

This is like a Genesis for me. My first garden is where I am now. We live in the home my parents purchased one month before I was born 49 years ago. The home was newly constructed and had a small cluster of flowering crabapples in the back garden and two flowering crabs on the front. That's it.

Everything else on the property was planted by someone in the family over the decades. And so I became a gardener very early in life. I suppose the honest, really honest answer would be at the age of two weeks. I could not be awakened. When I was 2 weeks old I became comatose and remained so for 4 weeks. When I rejoined the land of the living my right arm and left leg were paralyzed.

I had been stricken with both polio and enceplalitis concurrently. The use of the right arm returned within a short amount of time, the left leg was not so lucky. Then began the physical therapy, surgeries, and everything else but mostly the teasing from school children. My classmates and many adults with their stares and pointing and comments either meant for me to hear or overheard by my young ears.

I started gardening with my Mother to hide...to hide from the reality outside the fenced in yard. In my yard I could plant pansies and tomatos or watch the tadpoles in the little pond. The marigold flowers were happy that I gave them a drink of water. They didn't care that I had a full leg brace on or "walked funny". I could go about and see that I could do things that other kids couldn't. ME! Who would have thought?

I could take a stem that the dog broke from a flowering plant and turn it into a rooted cutting and a new plant! And it would flower too!! I couldn't run, never did, so I don't know what that is like. Don't really care about it either.

But I could graft a tree! I bet no one else in my grade school could do that. I could hand raise a baby bunny or baby sparrow rescued from the family cat too. Still can't run but I can still hand raise those babies.

Gardening showed me that even I could do things and everyone has different abilities. The leg brace is gone loooong ago but the love and security of the garden remains. Now it isn't so much to hide, though the garden is still a safe place. Now the garden is to share with family and keep old friends and make new friends.

Ohhhh I dunno where there would be an ancient C3D gardening photograph but here's a hunk of our garden:



This is the corner of our back yard that is nearest the lair of the Toxic Neighbour ... ewwww.... just over our chain link fence! The Russian Olive was planted by my father in 1960. Next to it is an equally old lilac and Silk Tree. In the foreground is wild senna, Cardinal Flowers, hosta and beneath that mess is our wildlife pond.

C with 3Ds

[Jardack]

thats a lovely story owdboggy Do you still grow sweetpeas?

Jardack

[owdboggy]

Answered this before, but it seems to have gonned. Pollen beetles defeated us a few years ago, so no we dont'

[nightowl]

Lovely tale Owdboggy, and very well told.

Are you still in touch with any of the boys who helped you? Wonder if any of them got the gardening bug, or if you put 'em off for life! ;D

[Shrubrose]

The first garden I remember was when I was about 4 years old. And I remember doing 'something' in one of the beds with Mum. Little bro at my side. He was very much an infant/toddler at the time and I can vividly recall him holding a fat worm between his finger and thumb and plunging it into his mouth.

[Biggles]

Yes Shrubrose
I can remember my 2 year old son- doing exactly the same thing--swallowed it before I could get to him!!
Remembering my very first Garden and now going to create my very last garden-- (A smal Postage Stamp size)
Sad, but oh what lovely memories.

[Shrubrose]

Biggles, your last garden. I hope you make it beautiful with all that you love. And I hope you share every stage of it's development with us. I, for one, want to see the pleasure it gives you.

[Biggles]

Must thank everyone for their replies- It has been very interesting reading. And a special thank you to Shrub for your kind wishes-- I will take photographs-- soon