Grow Something Wacky
"Imitation is suicide." —Ralph Waldo Emerson
The other night, someone reminded me of an old acquaintance. This acquaintance—let’s call him Dudley—was a character. He spent 20 years writing a spy novel, owned three cars and one battery that he rotated among them, and sometimes got around a girls’ pink bike. A friend of mine loved him for his quirkiness.
Some people love plants for their quirkiness. The green rose, the old striped roses, the new brown roses, the double purple coneflowers, and sunflowers the size of dinner plates all command attention.
I’m not the drama queen that Dudley is, but I like being a little different, too. I like living in a yellow house—I find it a sumptuous color, and there aren’t many yellow houses in Denver—and growing plants others have never heard of. But the plants can’t just be uncommon, they must perform. One is a white climbing rose that doesn’t die back in the winter: ‘Ilse Krohn Superior’. Another is a purple rose, ‘Veilchenblau’, that grows happily in the shade. As for vegetables, the ‘Mortgage Lifter’ tomatoes have a taste as good as their name.
It’s more fun than limiting myself to ‘Peace’, petunias, and lawn. Did I mention I don’t have a front lawn? I got tired of mowing it; now the front yard is full of flowers and bushes that get watered once a week. Even last Halloween, when most of the plants were dormant, a few trick-or-treaters said they liked the yard. There is a rose called ‘Halloween’ (my favorite holiday), but there are enough orange flowers in my front yard.
There’s nothing wrong with growing the tried and true, of course. It can save you some of the trouble of growing things that don’t work out. But the tried and true will only get you so far.
The other night, someone reminded me of an old acquaintance. This acquaintance—let’s call him Dudley—was a character. He spent 20 years writing a spy novel, owned three cars and one battery that he rotated among them, and sometimes got around a girls’ pink bike. A friend of mine loved him for his quirkiness.
Some people love plants for their quirkiness. The green rose, the old striped roses, the new brown roses, the double purple coneflowers, and sunflowers the size of dinner plates all command attention.
I’m not the drama queen that Dudley is, but I like being a little different, too. I like living in a yellow house—I find it a sumptuous color, and there aren’t many yellow houses in Denver—and growing plants others have never heard of. But the plants can’t just be uncommon, they must perform. One is a white climbing rose that doesn’t die back in the winter: ‘Ilse Krohn Superior’. Another is a purple rose, ‘Veilchenblau’, that grows happily in the shade. As for vegetables, the ‘Mortgage Lifter’ tomatoes have a taste as good as their name.
It’s more fun than limiting myself to ‘Peace’, petunias, and lawn. Did I mention I don’t have a front lawn? I got tired of mowing it; now the front yard is full of flowers and bushes that get watered once a week. Even last Halloween, when most of the plants were dormant, a few trick-or-treaters said they liked the yard. There is a rose called ‘Halloween’ (my favorite holiday), but there are enough orange flowers in my front yard.
There’s nothing wrong with growing the tried and true, of course. It can save you some of the trouble of growing things that don’t work out. But the tried and true will only get you so far.
posted by Lori Miller at 7:26 PM
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