Dahlia

One of the true joys of being a grown-up and having a little bit of dirt to call my own is that I can plant whatever I want in it.

I do, on occasion, run my ideas by My Beloved, of course.

But then again, sometimes I don't. And that's how my dahlia garden came to be.

I wanted one. Badly. I adore dahlias, but up until this year I didn't have enough room for them in any of the existing beds in our little yard. The untimely death of a newly planted Eastern Redbud tree last season left me with a nice little round patch of sodless yard that I immediately claimed for a dahlia bed.

In my head, of course. Quietly. Stealthily.

I simply announced one day that that's what it was going to become. Left very little room for discussion and ignored the grumbling (My Beloved hates obstacles around which he has to mow).

And planted.

The dahlia's are just starting to poke up from the ground and it'll be weeks before I see any colour, but they're there. I have my dahlia garden.

May 20, 2009


And while I'm waiting, a yarny dahlia bloom.