Garden fatigue

It's confession time, folks. I'm tired of my garden this year! I came across this picture of my garden from years ago and laughed.

There's a lush grouping of pole beans on the back left, stout silver-green broccoli plants in front of that, tall tomatoes on the right, and zinnias in a colorful pompon border between the wooden garden box and the row of large rocks.

Here's that zinnia border:

And a look inside the box, with kids to show the scale of the plants (perhaps that's why she's holding a stick?):

A drip line? Holy cow! I'd forgotten my garden ever had that.


Look at my garden today:

Granted, this shot is September and the others are July, but come on! My garden path has turned to garden apathy. The pole bean frame is bare because so few seeds below it sprouted this summer that I didn't bother attaching strings for them to climb. Overgrown, woody sage plants have all but obscured the large rock border, which once was distinct from the lawn it abuts (if we can call it a lawn anymore!). The light green hose -- the only source of water here --  is never put away. Weeds are everywhere. Even the fence looks defeated.

The first picture is from 2006, the first year we had a garden at this home. We cleared the area and made the boxes that spring. Clearly, I tended the garden better then! I think I laugh at the comparison because really, I am confused. I don't get it. I was in the throes of raising little kids then. They are older and more self-sufficient now, which should leave me with MORE time for gardening, not less. Right? I don't get it.

There's a season for everything, they say. If memory serves, the mom/gardener of 2006 felt a bit frazzled, too, but I laugh with new assurance that I don't need to knock myself out on the gardening front. Bedraggled September gardens still yield rewards.

But not too much, because that would be crazy.