The Garden Bug

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My father was, in his own way, a master gardener. No matter where the Army moved us, whether to the deep south or overseas, my father managed to make a beautiful garden. It was when we lived in Atlanta that I began shadowing him and learning how to care for azaleas, how to weed a flower bed, and operate the riding lawn mower. At only 13 years old, I thought being with my dad was worth all the grime, sweat and energy spent in the humidity.

Fast forward a decade and I was married, moving into our first house in North Georgia and already devising a plan for my very own backyard garden. It took several years to literally weed out the kinks, but by the fourth growing season, I'd raised all my own vegetables, started a successful vine that grew over the arbor on the back patio, and even had our young sons tooling around among the pepper plants.

And then we moved to the Panhandle. And then I caught garden fright. How did anything grow here? How am I supposed to shovel all this parched dirt? And just why is it so windy anyway?

Spending a morning at the Wardlaw's house ( See What Grows) erased all my fears. Trial and error notwithstanding, Andi and Sandy have spend more than a decade creating the most beautiful oasis in their front and back yards, and after hearing their story, I have the gardening bug once again. Daydreaming about the good 'ole days in the land of easy-going gardening are gone and now I hope to create my own oasis here.

Perhaps I'll start by going back to Uncommon Twists (location of this month's Dress Code) and seeing what little jewels need to come home with me and be planted in my new garden.

by Jennie Treadway-Miller

Jennie was a columnist for the Chattanooga Times Free Press for eight years prior to moving to Amarillo in 2008. She is an avid reader, runner and writer.