Here is a scenario familiar to every gardener:

I tense with eager anticipation whenever I walk into my favorite nursery, or any nursery. I'm a kid in a toy store with free rein to buy anything I want! My gaze darts from plant to plant, looking for my old favorites and for new varieties.

Suddenly there before me I see a daring new color variety or species beckoning to me. My Holy Grail! My entire world shrinks to this one gem of a plant.

And then I start thinking:

What can I move in my garden so I can squeeze in this plant?

In my mind I shift established perennials to new spots and dig out marigolds I'm tired of. They're annuals! I can plant them again next year.

I smile with confidence knowing my new love will light up my garden like a prison spotlight.

But then the guilt sets in.

It's a beautiful plant, but do I really need it? My marigolds bloom faithfully every year. The perennials are content in their plots of soil.

They depend on me!

Do I really want this jewel of a plant, this tempting beauty, breaking up my happy garden?

Can I live without my new love?

No! Why should I have to live without this beauty? I'm the gardener! I decide what is planted and what isn't!

I set the new plant in my basket, shove my guilt down deep inside, and stride determinedly to the checkout counter.

I happily wallow in guilt-free denial while waiting in line. My new plant is in good hands.

But maybe I can grow it with the marigolds? I could give it a shot. They might get along. Marigolds are tolerant souls.

Yes! Decision made. My marigolds are about to meet a new friend. I am no longer a horrible person for considering dumping my little buddies.

I am the gardener, a proud caretaker of the earth! My guilt slithers off to haunt me during my next nursery visit.

We gardeners have a deep relationship with our plants, each and every one.

But we always manage to find room for one more.


About the Author
Jenny Harker is an avid gardener and writer offering free PDF e-books on gardening and the gardening life at mygardensoul.com