Pansy impulse control? Forget about it.

Amen, Bob! I’m glad you folded. One can never have too many pansies, or pansies too soon. My failure to resist comes with their more diminutive cousins, the violas. I love how they’ll winter over. And Johnny-jump-ups, and even wild field pansies (crazy little spreaders that they are). Just the sweetest, all of them. Enjoy yours. (How many did you get?)

You are not alone Bob. Spring is still at least a month away here. Currently, I have a greenhouse full of pansies, primulas and hellebores and it’s snowing and -12C (10 F) outside. Gardeners are all a little desperate for colour at this time of year.

Never yet have seen a pansy or viola that I didn’t want to buy, and one might say I didn’t stop myself or exercise any self-control this spring when I went to the local greenhouse… They are all planted!

Check with my wife

Has gardening corrupted my soul? Yes.

I felt mean and hypocritical for not sending you prayers. Often my prayers are like a chyron moving through my heart. I pray for all manner of things much of the time. Most of my prayers are for pure and good things,

I have thoughts and prayers for long passed perennials innocent in the cause of their demise; I have prayers for trees long ago celebrated and mourned as they journeyed into earthly decomposition; and I, when I’m not annoyed, I send hopes for a better life to the somewhat inconsiderate neighbors and their barking-like-clockwork-at 6:30 a.m. dog. I pray that they have a better life someplace else; and I pray in a fervent manner for our fellow Americans living in shock from the cruelty of being a fired government worker; and, for those who lives with hurt and pain of injustice. And, I mutter weather prayers on an as needed basis.

So, why did I feel a darkness in my soul when I denied your request for prayers? After all, it was a simple ask.

When I assess my garden accomplishments I find myself guilty of all manner of wrongheadedness. I’m guilty of mismanagement of self and environment: overspending, ignorance of the elements, de-hydrating, poor planning, etc.

1990-2025 The Ghosts of Garden Past and Garden Present:
“We tell you every year not to overcommit yourself. You overdid it again! You’re so exhausted you can hardly walk a straight line to the bathroom or doctor’s office. Do you recall at the end of every August as bewildering tears fall down your dirty face you avow to how much you really, really hate gardening? You’re drunk with exhaustion. Do you remember how you grumped at the little neighbor girls skipping their way home and calling out that they love you and your smelly flowers? Once again you raged and swore that you would never shop at _____ again because they aren’t even trying to use local growers. Does your long-time therapist know any of this about you? Who else have you denied prayers to? For shame that we should even have to ask.”

The 1990-2025 Me:
“So, who the heck prayed for me when I overbought annuals and had to buy more containers or else donate them to someone who wouldn’t know what to do with them? Who answered my pain-filled lament arising out of every muscle in my body asking is there any strength in this 73 y.o. body so I can get everything dug in, potted up, fed, divided, donated, shared, watered, recycled, pruned , bedded down, doused with love without killing myself? Who prayed for me when I admitted that I used the other credit card for “a vintage sea green Italian terra cotta container so beautiful it makes your eyes glisten just to behold it?” Did I ask for prayers? No. I was too busy being filled with joy and wonder and thrilled that I love to garden. Or, I was too exhausted from doing it to ask for a prayer or two.”

“BTW, if you allow for inflation I’m sinning about the same amount as the last four years. Year over year as the analysts like to put it. And, I’m probably down from 20 years ago when I sustained bigger losses.”

My guess is that whenever the Big Judgement Day comes I’ll lack of some of the preferred qualities that living a more prayerful life would have given. I won’t read too much into it but your recent Rant implies that there are a few things that we have in common: plants and prayer power. I admire that you were out there enough to ask for prayers.

Like a good gardener I’ve learned how important planning is and I try to tend for the future. In between weed identifications I’ve been thinking that once I leave this beautiful blue orb my destination is likely purgatory’s environs and inhabitants. I’ll fare better in the company of gardeners and book lovers. With an eye to my future I need to populate it with people like myself.

For selfish reasons I will not send you prayers. I supposed it all boils down to misery will love company. So, spend away at B.J. McCoy’s. If you spend any time at all in purgatory and I hope your stay is very short, you’ll recognize me. I’ll be the one with all the extra viola flats that you wisely chose not to buy.

Sending you my best earthly regards and no prayers,
Gardener gardening in Marblehead MA

I am controlling myself because we are adding on to the garage (stupid truck) and I will have to move lots of plants and have no room for new. Sniff.