Fiddling In The Garden & Remembering Donald Hodgson
Saturday, May 17, 2014
My North Vancouver friend Donald Hodgson (now
deceased) used to call me every May. We would discuss our mutual like for that
shade-tolerant perennial, the hosta. He would always say, “God, hostas look so
fresh and new when they emerge in May. When there are no slug holes. They are
pristine. There is nothing better.” And he was right.
The garden is looking pretty good right now
as Rosemary and I work on it. We are opening our garden, mid June for the
Vancouver Rose Society. All this work for one day seems almost laughable. But
it isn’t. At one time it was a lot worse.
I have psoriatic arthritis. A couple of
years ago after a day of heavy work I could not move in bed in the evening and I
would groan all night. Now with my heavy duty medicine Humira I can move in bed
but I still groan. There are things I used to take for granted like snipping
and pruning with my Felco secateurs or lopping thicker branches with the
lopper. Now I almost cannot do this.
After a few hours of snipping it somehow
affects my right elbow and the pain is intense to the point that I am unable to
switch on the ignition of our Malibu.
But I have to admit that if I pace myself (just a bit) I can somehow work in
the garden every day.
 |
| Hosta 'Blue Whirls' left & right Hosta 'Yellow River' , fern Onoclea sensibilis |
I miss Donald Hodgson right now. The hostas
are beautiful and as he would say, they are pristine. But in my now-decade-interest
in roses, these plants beckon, too. They have buds. One day there is a bud. The
next day, you just might miss that the bud is now open and the rose is
glorious.
But best of all is that most of the heavy
work is done and now I can fiddle in the garden. I can sit with Casi-Casi on
the bench. I can listen to the rustle of the leaves and smell the Rhododendron
luteum’s yellow flowers. I can water which is awfully relaxing. And sometimes,
if I am lucky, I can even persuade my Rosemary to relax and sit with me.
