Supplied photos
I do find it ironic that today’s tale about one of my BFF’s love of gardening is being written by a weed.
Me.
According to Google, Mustard is actually an "aggressive weed" at that!
The tale begins when my beautiful friend Pat Watts Stevens went on disability from a job she loved in November of 1998. The diagnosis: chronic migraine disease and fibromyalgia, which sadly still persists today.
Nevertheless, she has "trumped" (she’s going to hurt me for that) the disease as much as is humanly possible through her love of gardening.
Pat moved into her current gorgeous home in 1999, but it wasn’t nearly as gorgeous — inside or out — as it is now. The yard was pretty much bare (grass with some lovely old oak trees) which Pat saw as a much needed opportunity to divert her attention from the illness.
"I started working on the yard in 2000. This yard saved my soul and my mind. It became my passion. I did the front yard first and added a courtyard. In the beginning, I had so many plans and so much I wanted to do, but not enough time where I was well enough to do the work. So if I was feeling well at night, I would actually work in the yard with lights to help me. It was also cooler, heat does me in.
"The backyard was done in 2004, a gift from my mother."
This is one serious gardener.
"On my laptop I have photo files by year back to 2003. I have spreadsheets that keep track of when flowers bloom, what has died, and new ones added by year."
Very serious.
"Spring is my favourite season. I start planning what I’m going to do in the garden in April, well kind of all winter, actually. I make my lists of what I want to move or add to specific gardens in my yard. I have five areas I plan for. This front yard gave me, and gives me, so much joy.
"This unexpected combination of illnesses really knocked me for a loop. I had to put my focus somewhere."
I worked with Pat for a number of years; an executive, an absolute positive force in her workplace — highly successful — and this huge health challenge, that refused to go away, really caused her to redefine how she would achieve that professional level of satisfaction, and productivity, outside of the workplace.
Her yard, gardens and house are a testament to her ability to accept what is and make the absolute most of what she had, and has, to work with.
And because she REALLY hates weeds. I don’t feel safe around her.
Although this fibro/migraine affliction has kept her home since 1998, it has done nothing to dampen her creativity or work ethic, so it’s no surprise that her level of enthusiasm for her new "career" is not only at the passion level, but beyond. "I’ve become obsessed with plants, hydrangeas, peonies... so many more. I planted a wisteria vine five years ago, and it finally bloomed this year. Well worth the wait. Exciting!"
Oh, I hear ya. Anyone who restores old cars (as I do) totally understands the rewards of delayed gratification.
So, Pat, if I should perhaps get motivated to take up gardening based on the joy and respite you’ve received from this labour of love (which I won’t, but others might), are there any pitfalls I should be preparing myself to handle?
"Oh, there have been a couple of surprises along the way that left me a little disgusted," she said.
Such as?
"I thought that when you planted a perennial, it was there, for years to come. Not necessarily so. I’ve had many die over the years, including numerous clematis vines I never thought I’d be replacing. You just never know what spring will bring.
"This passion of mine is a lot of work, and it’s never done. Regardless, it’s been a lifesaver for me. I absolutely love it."
Pat is certainly not the only one benefiting from flower power.
From a column by Paddy Magrane in the Telegraph: "Thrive, a UK charity with projects across the country (thrive.org.uk) brings the healing power of gardening to the lives of thousands of vulnerable young people and adults every year, dramatically improving their health and well-being."
There you have it. Evidence-based.
As we wind up our chat and Pat heads to the kitchen to refill our cups, she calls back to me, "Hey, Mustard, can I put a little roundup in your coffee?"
Ok, fake news, she didn’t say that — but I wish she had. Then again, I shouldn’t be planting ideas like that in her weed-hating brain. I’ll have to be very careful next time I’m over for a visit.
Comments or feedback, love to hear from you!
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