It’s taken close to two decades, but I now feel comfortable sharing the following sentiment:

I’m in a mutha f’n groove in my garden.

Yeah, you heard me. I’m oozing and dripping (gross, sorry) with confidence after reaping the rewards of failing miserably the last 18 years and 8 months and 6 days and 4 hours and 32 minutes and 37 seconds. The answers have always been there but I was too blind from the sweat and poison ivy to ever see them:

1. Stay patient and allow plants the time they need to establish themselves.
2. Don’t force plants into your garden that you know will not thrive there.
3. Stop the obsession of buying new plants; instead, divide what you already have. Those are free plants dummy.

I’ve dabbled in following these three garden tenets over the years but never fully dedicated myself to them until this year. And you know what? I’ve never enjoyed the garden more. I’m still working my ass off to the point of nearly passing out but I’m, get this, working SMARTER. Maybe it took reaching 50 years old to finally see the light. I’m well on my way to becoming a wise old sage.

Here’s the section of the garden that inspired today’s post.

I added the Carex and the Rudbeckia this spring/summer to finally fill in the front but, the greatest development, is the always increasing supply of Sneezeweed at the back.

I purchased three of these perennials (checks notes) back in 2011 and planted them in a spot where they never had a chance. Once in bloom, they easily toppled over.

Which in turn toppled me over.

Frustrated and pained, I dug them up and (checks notes) have no idea what I did next. I assume I transplanted one or two to where they are now, but honestly don’t recall doing it.

(Checks notes and old photos). OK, got something here. Back in 2014, I took this photo which is the spot where they all reside currently.

They’re about 50% of the height they are now and about 20% of the volume. The funny thing is I don’t remember seeing them much since then. They started to make their presence two years ago and I was giddy that they persevered. It took a lot of intestinal fortitude, but I left them alone.

There’s tenet #1. Patience.

Yay me.

And now they’re kicking ass, gaining the required support from the nearby grasses.

---

Let’s go back to the first photo on this post again as reference.

Remember tenet #2, grow what your conditions allow you to grow, or something like that? This vignette is loaded with plants that fit that mold. We’ve got the ubiquitous Joe Pye Weed, Miscanthus ‘Morning Light’ (back center), Pennisetum ‘Hameln’ in bloom (smack dab in the middle) and a bunch of yet to bloom Chelone ‘Hot Lips’ (middle right). All have thrived since the day they were first planted and I’ve continued to add them all in other spots in the garden.

For tenet #3, here are examples of plants I’ve divided and replanted with big time success.

Mountain Mint. It’s everywhere in my garden.

Bee balm. One division relocated soon becomes, like a lot as it spreads through rhizomes underground.

Lady’s Mantle. Last fall, I dug up 5 plants as they struggled in blazing full sun and moved them to this spot where they get some late afternoon relief. 5 became 12 and they’ve all grown in with vigor. I’d show you that vigor, but they’re a bit messy right now and my point won’t be proven so why would I do that?

And last but surely not least, we have Joseph Pye. While I’ve divided some, truthfully, it’s been more of an art of managing the reseeding. If it pops up where I like, it stays. If not, I move it to a location that makes it “look” like it naturally found its way there. Takes a little bit of babying initially, but once established, we good for years.

So there’s your lesson for the day.

You are so welcome.