XVIII- When you finally understand why you’ve never grown flowers

I’ve been slowly settling into the new house and new area. North Carolina weather is absolutely lovely compared to Florida. North Carolina infrastructure, on the other hand…well, let’s just say getting everyone in the household set up with a driver’s license was far more of a pain than it needed to be. But things have been nice, overall.

Haven’t gotten my wheel and kiln yet, but we’re in position to do it, and I’ll be placing the order in a couple days. I’m kinda nervous about that. Weird about making big purchases and all. I’m looking forward to finally having my own wheel to practice on, though.

Sleep Token’s Even In Arcadia is finally out…but I’m trying very hard not to be insufferable, so I’ll keep my heaps of praise to myself for now.

(It’s a damn good album, though it might take a few listens to really breathe. Do not expect a lot of metal, but expect that metal to hit hard when it’s used. Go listen to it.)

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The title of this post is actually a lie. I have, in fact, grown flowers in the various gardens I’ve cultivated across two houses and a decade. I will probably start a garden here at some point. Next year, once I’ve had a season to observe the weather, the bugs, how much light the backyard gets, etc. I joked to my husband that I can finally garden “properly,” because nearly all common gardening advice is geared toward regions that get, ya know, actual seasons.

No more tomatoes in December. Oh well. The hubby can’t eat tomatoes anymore, anyway.

In the past, I would grow almost primarily vegetables. Which is maybe a bit weird since I don’t eat most of them. Green beans grow marvelously for me (I joke because they know I won’t eat them), as do tomatoes. Lettuce I’ve had mixed success with, as Florida is so hot and humid that even if you do get a successful plant (assuming the bugs don’t demolish it), it’s likely to bolt before you can pick much of it. Spinach is right out; it’s just too hot. Carrots have been a failure; I’ll get maybe one edible root if I’m lucky. I’ve never successfully harvested a zucchini, despite having grown a few big ass zucchini plants, despite zucchinis supposedly being the easiest vegetable to grow. The bugs would always kill the plant before it could fruit. Cucumbers, same deal. Garlic, onions, and potatoes all just take too long and are killed by the heat. I’ve really not had much success with vegetable gardens overall, mostly because Florida’s climate sucks, partially because I inevitably stop going outside to water the plants because it’s so HOT and GROSS outside, and partially because I get tired of fighting the nonstop bugs that eat 80% of anything I plant no matter what I do. But I enjoy the planning and planting so much that I keep trying.

Fruits I’ve had even less success with. I’ve tried strawberries several times, and the plants always make a bunch of flowers and then wither away. I got a single watermelon off a vine one time, and it wasn’t even that good. I don’t even know what a mature cantaloupe vine looks like; the bugs always eat mine before they get more than five or so leaves. Bought a blackberry bush, which never grew. Left the banana plant at the FL house, so I’ll never know if it fruits or not. (It was still alive when I left, which I guess is a win.) I’ve never tried to cultivate a tree, because they’re expensive to buy and my track record is bad. (I don’t count the mango trees at the last house; they were already there).

Herbs seem to like me. Basil, especially. I planted some Thai basil at the last house that self-seeded, popped up everywhere, and kept coming back for at least three years. I’ve grown plenty of thyme, rosemary, dill, and oregano, both from seed and from established plants. I planted one lemongrass bush that turned into a monster and spawned five or six other bushes. Mint did okay once it got going, and I actually had volunteer mint pop up in the front planter. I was never able to get lavender to sprout in FL—too dang hot—but I’m hoping to try again here. Chamomile, same deal, heat always killed it. Bugs would always get to my catnip seedlings, but established plants did okay. I tried growing some more medicinal herbs once, but most of those need a cold period to sprout, and the fridge just doesn’t seem to cut it.

I always relied on companion planting and natural remedies for pests, which, honestly, is probably why I always had problems. Once late March rolls around in FL, short of dousing your entire property in RoundUp, you simply cannot keep the wave after wave of insects away. Caterpillars can demolish a huge healthy plant practically overnight. Forget seedlings at that stage. FL bugs would even eat the herbs and companion plants I grew to deter them, which all conventional wisdom says they won’t touch. My noxious garlic pepper spray did very little. And once late May rolls around, it’s too miserable to go outside and deal with it all.

Many companion plants are flowers…so yeah, I’ve grown flowers. I’ve had marigolds, nasturtiums, and calendula with varying levels of success. Borage was delightful. I would often let my herbs flower; heck, I let my lettuce flower (I wanted the seeds).

Do you see a pattern yet? I only ever planted flowers that were useful. If I was going to have a garden, it needed to be useful. I needed to be doing a useful thing with my time, or what’s the point?

I’ve been brainstorming, on and off, what sort of garden I want to grow here at the new house. The frugal side of me thinks I should try to use up the collection of seeds I already have. I’d like to plant a fruit tree or two, as our backyard is quite bare. An apple tree, maybe, since we have the weather for it, or a pomegranite. But…I kinda don’t want to do just food again. I could plant a huge, wild herb garden; I use herbs all the time, they tend to be hardier plants, they smell good, and…plenty of reasons.

Never once did it occur to me to plant flowers.

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The last owner of this house sowed wildflowers in the front yard, right next to the driveway. That spot went from bare to bursting in the space of a few weeks. It’s the first thing you see from the road as you’re approaching the house.

From the driveway

From the road

They’re lovely. I love that they’re there. I will probably plant more when these die.

I don’t dislike flowers, although someone who doesn’t know me could easily come to the conclusion that I do. I only plant ones that serve a purpose other than just looking pretty. I feel trite when I include them in my art. I find them boring in other people’s art. When I pick them, I tend to keep them until they dry out, and often use them in some other project.

The reason, I’m realizing, ties into some deep inner fear I have of being useless.

I feel awkward and embarrassed being waited on. I can’t sit still when people do chores around me. I get paralyzed by guilt on days when I can’t get anything done. I feel like a blob on the couch when I’d rather spend the day reading or Sleep forbid, playing a game. Because if I’m not writing stories (that I can sell; fanfic doesn’t count), if I’m not keeping the house clean, if I’m not doing art (that I can sell; fanart doesn’t count), if I’m not keeping on top of paperwork and dishes and laundry, if I’m not unpacking and organizing, if I’m not growing stuff that will benefit the entire household…then what good am I?

What’s the point of me?

Roses, to me, symbolize the ultimate useless flower. (Botanically, I know they’re not, but my brain is not taking any sort of logical stance here.). They’re pretty. They smell good. They’re fussy as hell to cultivate, and for what? Cut roses last for maybe a week, if you water them? They sit on the counter to be glanced at as you walk by, maybe sniffed from time to time, and then they die. What’s the point?

It’s no wonder I don’t want to be anyone’s rose.

Never the rose as a name is a double-edged sword. Its purpose is to remind me that there is worth to be had in the ordinary, that you don’t have to be a rose to be something. But I think it also expresses a deep contempt for anything in this world I perceive to be frivolous, temporary, pretty, shallow…in other words, useless.

It’s no wonder I never think to plant flowers. What else have I sacrificed on my mission to not feel like a couch blob? Kindness towards myself, definitely, because boy do I struggle to justify doing things just because I love it. (I’ll spend several delightfully focused days working on a fanfic or piece of fanart, and then feel hella guilty that I wasn’t working on my art or my writing; you know, worthwhile pursuits. ) Low spoon days are a failure, because again, if I’m not keeping up with things, what’s the point of me? I feel selfish buying things only for myself. I have trouble giving people a list of things I want for Christmas or birthdays, even when I know exactly what I want and I know they’ll be happy to get it for me. Ask me how I’m doing and I’m likely to answer with “we’re doing fine,” as in, everyone in the house.

You don’t have to pamper me. You don’t have to go out of your way for me. I’m not fussy. I’m low maintenance. I’ll adapt. I’m fine. Don’t fret over me. Don’t spend money on me.

I’m not your fucking ROSE.

Because roses get discarded in the end.

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Curse my current obsession for making me do shadow work. “I am the rose you relinquished again,” and me sitting there thinking, “Hell, I was never even a rose to begin with,” and then asking myself why I’m so down on myself when literally nobody else in my life is?

I think, perhaps, I need to plant a flower garden.