So while my previous post about my successful garden transformation--in one year!--was truthful, I cannot hide the other, uglier truth. Which is that a lot of those beautiful plants fell victim to my inexperience.
Undeterred, however, I replaced the dearly departed with new little friends and hoped for the best. Wonder of wonders: the more I planted, the better my survival rate became. And so by my final spring in my townhouse (2006), things looked like this--and all these guys were survivors.
|Garden assistant posing behind the crape myrtle.|
|This also marks the beginning of my rock fetish.|
|How about that little brick border?|
In fact, I became so successful that I ran out of room and was forced to branch out into the median to fuel my new gardening obession.