
There is some gardening with ME that you can do in bed. I’m not joking. I do my best thinking about the garden whilst resting in bed. Over winter, I spent time reflecting on the past year, thinking about what had done well (in one case, too well!), and what not so well.

If happy, some plants will self-seed. And gosh, was the Verbena bonariensis happy. From just two plants the previous year, its tiny seeds, carried by the wind, made new plants that successfully filled the long front border with purple flowers over several months. This is a short-lived perennial, and will die back after three or so seasons, but its self-seeding habit means if happy, it will never be in short supply. It’s also a plant with shallow roots, meaning that it’s easier to remove the seedlings you don’t want.

It was good that the Verbena was so happy, as another plant in the same border, was distinctly unhappy. I had planned for the long front border to be a Sarcococca (winter box) border, an evergreen which has the most beautiful scent in the middle of winter. Sadly, many of the plants did not survive. I’d grown it very successfully in the clay soil of Sheffield, but it did not like the even heavier clay of South Wales. After further research, I discovered it was also getting just too much sun. The few hours of direct sun a day in my shadier Sheffield garden, was nothing compared to the 10+ hours a day it was now getting.

I realised I had to give up my idea of a fragrant winter border and have a rethink. I’ve decided to trial a couple of young Cornus sanguinea ‘Midwinter Fire’ (dogwood) plants. With it’s gorgeous reddish-pink stems that light up any cold winter day, they feel like a good option to replace the Sarcococca. I’ve checked on them a few times and they seem to be doing well with the sun and clay conditions, but I’ll wait and see how they cope next season. If these do survive well, then I’ll switch from making it a fragrant winter border to a colourful one.

In the back garden I also had a self-seeding success, only it was rather unexpected. You can plan and research, but sometimes you aren’t given all the information. Festuca amethystina is a lovely evergreen grass. It has purple flower spikes that fade to yellow as the summer progresses. I was looking forward to enjoying this growing through other perennials for years to come. Then in early autumn, I started noticing a lot of grass seedlings in the borders and growing between paving stones. What?!
It took me a while to realise what it was, as nowhere I had read prior to purchasing the plant, did it mention that it would self-seed. A LOT. It was only when I did further research that I found out that in the US, from where this plant derives, it’s well known for self-seeding. This information was not listed on UK based sites I viewed. Sigh. Well, it’s going to have to come out, because it’s creating too much work. Pulling up copious seedlings from between paving stones requires too many spoons.

Not all plans (plants) went awry. I picked up a couple of scruffy Silene coronaria (rose campion) the previous year, picked an ideal spot and planted them. And gosh, they put on a show. I had vivid magenta flowers for a good 8-weeks, and they were gorgeous. This is short-lived perennial (c. 2-3 years) that needs lots of sun, and it’s loved by bees and butterflies too. When I reviewed my photos of the garden in summer recently, I thought about how much I enjoyed these flowers, and I’ve decided to see if next summer I can collect some seed (sadly, it doesn’t easily self-seed) so I can continue to grow this Silene in future years.

Growing plants is a bit like having ME. Despite your best efforts, some things just don’t go as you hoped. Other times, things come together better than you expected. It can be a bit boom and bust, and reflecting on our experiences helps us manage better. Reflection is a useful skill in any gardener, and it’s something people with ME can do in spades.
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Published previously in ME Essential:
My garden fed my soul in the worst early years of ME and gardens often reflect the boom and bust like this thieving illness with great and lesser successes . But to go with the flow brings out the best .
I know what you mean. Giving up gardening would be like giving up on life. I hope you are able to enjoy gardening more now.