Meanwhile we surround a huge black Chinese jar with the blue Oxypetalum and the blue plumbago all through the summer, and drop a pot full of morning glory, Heavenly Blue, into the Chinese jar, to pour downwards into a symphony of different blues.
A Joy of Gardening; 1958
I missed writing a post last week because I was tirelessly working on my second book. It’s almost finished but I just need to “paint” a few more layers to make it solid. Sometimes I think I should start a writing process blog so I can vent my troubles to the world instead of my incredibly patient husband. I ask him, “Did I run into this kind of trouble on my last book? Did I want to give up and throw it in the garbage?” “Yes,” he replies. “Keep at it, you’ll eventually find what you’re looking for.” Like some magical oracle he says this and I believe him because he seems to be always right. So for a week I toiled and mulled over the hole I was almost falling in until I found a little bridge to take me across. The story is so much better now. All I needed to do was spend a little more time with the characters (I’m going on a year with this one) and they eventually showed me the way.
Much like the garden and the flowers we have planted. The more time you spend with them the more you get to know them. Take for instance the morning glory as it is our subject this week. How excited I was to buy these seeds, the seeds of the Heavenly Blue which Vita talks about endlessly. I believe she called it the perfect shade of blue. I have written a post on morning glory called From Muddy Waters to Finding the Perfect Shade of Blue, but I wrote that post before I spent any time with the flower. I will say now that I would have planted them elsewhere.
What I didn’t realize was these vines, once they get going, won’t stop. Surely they will take over your other plants if not put in a place all their own where they can’t reap havoc. Their little arms reach out grabbing for whatever they can and they pull, twist and coax everything into their leafy embrace. They uprooted one of my large zinnias and shielded my beloved rose bushes from the sun. They are wild. As a result, I am currently treating all my roses for black spot.
So the other day on a surprisingly warm October afternoon, I looked at my garden and I got angry. Once coveted and prized for their beautiful blue flowers I now gazed at them with loathing. They had turned out to be completely impolite and gluttonous with the space they were given. I realized I had made a grave mistake. Planting the morning glory in my garden was like bringing a wild animal into my house. Once it grew to four inches it went wild all over the place, too quickly for me to stop it. I was finished with this little shop of horrors menace so I got a little rough and I pushed all the vines to one side of the fence and I took my shears and freed my rose bushes and zinnias from their grasp.
They are beautiful, yes, and I would highly recommend them if you have the room. But choose a space that will be entirely theirs, keep them away from all other plants. If you do you’ll be happy and you’ll enjoy them thoroughly. They are very beautiful and deserve full attention away from the garden where the “domestic” plants live.