Pruning gone wild!

This morning I was out the door at 7 am with pruning shears in hand, whacking away at the unruly day lilies, cutting all the spent flower stems and seed pods. Lilies are a lot of work to keep them neat. They bloom profusely, then their old soldiers hang around forever. So I cut off their stems and wait for more blooms to form.

My old neighbor, Tish, used to make much of my pruning, saying all plants should be left to do their natural thing. I think pruning adds more life and energy, plus I just like the looks of order, not stiffness, but relaxed order. (A stiff garden is one than can't move with a breeze at all.)

A new neighbor stopped by as I was pruning. She asked questions about my petunias (the white ones taking over the front step pots) I've pruned them several times and they keep asking for more. She has lived in the corner farm house for many years. This is the second time we've talked. I think we could become friends.

Looking back from the vantage of the sun-drenched front porch, I think my neat mounds of feathery grasses with the occasional yellow lilly look trim and well-coifed, ready to work at growing some more.

I think pruners are very useful and I just may take them on vacation. I may just find my calling on some unsuspecting vine.

So pruning encourages friendships. Any kind of gardening chore invites questions, conversation--will the morning glories bloom this year? How bout those tomatoes? My interaction with Kris at work was solely about his garden and cooking. Will the black walnuts kill his tomatoes?

Gardening is chance and patience rolled into one. You have to be prepared for disappointment