What’s on my mind? Berberis Buxifolia, which sounds like the catch of the day in a Portuguese restaurant, but isn’t.
I recently bought a Berberis Buxifolia to fill an empty spot in the garden. It was small, scrawny, and needed TLC. I am tall, brawny, with TLC to spare. I liked that the BB had tiny yellow flowers that would morph into edible berries. I liked that a lot.
Himself asked where he should plant it.
“There,” I said.
“What does the tag say?” he asked.
“There is no tag,” I said.
So I looked up “Berberis Buxifolia” on the Internet. “Height: 9 ft. Width: 8 ft.” I took it back to the garden center.
I bought another plant that did have a tag - which I didn’t read. “It’s gorgeous!” I said, loading it onto my shopping cart.
“Be sure to trim it back,” said the Garden Center Lady. “And contain it.”
“My husband likes stuff wild and free,” I said. “He won’t want to cut it.”
Her eyebrows shot up like firecrackers. “Your choice,” she said.
When I got around to reading the tag, I noticed it read “Bamboo.” I returned it to the garden center, too.
Gardening is like sex. We’ve done it before, but not for awhile.
I’ve written about the rabbits that hide behind every bush and peek over every flower in our garden. The Garden Center Lady said blood meal would deter them. I’ve written about the deer that nose through the tenderest of our plants before ripping them out with their teeth. The Garden Center Lady said a product called Bobbex would stop them, too.
When I mentioned this to an experienced gardener in my walking group, she said: “But deer love blood meal! And rabbits love Bobbex!” The deer and the rabbits are still dining out in our garden: They’ve just traded places at the banquet table.
© Nicole Parton, 2019
