Some of you have mentioned that you would like to stroll through my garden. Your admiration thrills me to the core but there can be no strolling in a garden that is a mere 400 square feet unless you take a little eyes-only promenade from the oh-so-remote distance of the adjacent window (same goes for the front yard minus about 200 square feet). The fact that 350 of those 400 square feet is cement, most of it pretty consistently pee’d and poo’d upon by the resident “bad-girl” princess-dog who is, as I write, sleeping off a particularly strenuous night of deeeeeep slumber, makes for an even shorter ramble.
However, we were so very lucky as to purchase our little cottage over three years ago, prompting me to plant many of my roses in the tiny squares of available dirt as well as to invest in (gasp!) perennials. Since I have long been an “annuals” (cheap, plentiful, frost-vulnerable, “I want it now”, floozies-of-the-garden blooms that give you instant results--sort of like “blue ruin” whiskey, but without the capacity to make you drunk) kind of gal, rather than a “perennials” (the more expensive flowers and plants one buys for the long run—responsible work horses of the garden that take time to develop and mature) lover, the pay-off of this trade-off (perennials for annuals, for those of you whom I confused) has been a very happy surprise.
To illustrate this point, I present a photo of my trellised arch as of August 2008.
In short, if you want to save on money in the garden as well as on fresh flowers to admire from within your four walls, perennials are the way to go, a lesson this floozy-lover took way too long to learn.