Dear Diary,

The second reason I’m just not feeling it <first post here>, seems less important by comparison, but is another a day I never thought I’d see: The first plants I bought for my garden have all but died.

15 years ago I bought 4 Rudbeckia goldsturm (Black-eyed Susans) from a good nursery and at the time they seemed expensive.

But I most definitely got my money’s worth out of them. They produced and produced and produced.

For several years, I’d put extras in grocery bags in front of my house with a “free” sign. They were always taken.

Then, as friends got interested in gardening I gave them the extras. Which is the cool thing about gardening — every time you see what someone gave you, you are sending them a little blessing, a little namasté -1 to them. (And yes, I knew that word before my current Buddhist wannabe jag. I learned 10+ years ago when I started yoga.)

It seemed like they were endless! (Click on image to get the full effect and to see that Bubba has always been fat.)

And then a couple of years ago they started petering out:

And then last year they really petered out…

And now…one lonely little budlet on the way right side if you click and look closely:

I know, I know. You can save all the platitudes — I’ve thought of them already:

  • ‘You had them so many years!’
  • ‘Everything has a season’
  • ‘Nothing lasts forever’
  • ”Think how much joy you’ve given others’
  • ‘Change is good’
  • ‘But look at what you do have.’
  • blah blah blah…

I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be consoled about this. Daffodils aside, Rudebeckia are my favorite flowers. They make me smile every time I see them. Hell, my living and dining rooms are the same color! (Alarmingly, I just realized that and made the connection…)

Having just a few rusty-leaved little plants that don’t even bloom is just sad. I’ve called in a favor and gotten some back from my friend Ann, but there’s something else going on with the soil or something. Nada. Zippo. Zero. I hope to find some bare-root plants this fall. Farewell my friendly plants! You’ve made so many people smile over the years.



Okay, thanks for listening. I feel better now. I’ll try to get back to my normal (?) way of writing instead of “Dear Diary-ing” it so much.






1: Translated many ways, but I like “I honor the light in you.”