When I started this blog a few months ago, I wanted to share the good and the bad, the wins and the flops. Yes, it’s wonderful to see amazing photos of people’s beautiful, lush plants and gardens for inspiration. But that’s not usually the whole picture. Real gardening is sometimes disappointing!

So, here are a few things from my native plant project that cause me to make a face like this familiar meme puppy.

Maybe this post will help someone out there who is also feeling like an inadequate gardener today. Because I’m pretty sure we all have days like this, whether we tell the world or not.

The saddest Redbud you’ll ever see
I’m starting with the most embarrassing example. The sad twig in the photo below is a Western Redbud (Cercis occidentalis). This “tree” is on its second spring in the ground and working towards its third summer and fall. I think it should be lush and flowering by now, like the ones in the neighbor’s yard three houses up. But no, this little guy is about four inches high, has two teeny leaves (in the green circle) and no flowers. The poor thing is so ridiculously small, I crouch down in front of it daily to encourage it and beg it to hang on. Out loud. (Thinking about what that must look like to people passing by actually makes me giggle.)

Now, I did cut this guy way back in the fall to spur big growth this year. But it’s obviously not thriving. It grew little stems and leaves eventually last year, but it must be unhappy, right? Is it in the wrong spot? Is it getting too much shade? Maybe the soil is terrible after being stifled for 30 years under layers of plastic weed barrier. Maybe the ornamental rose bushes the previous resident had growing everywhere sucked every last nutrient out of the dirt. I just don’t know. But this little guy is one of the first plants I see when I come home, and each time I see him, it feels like I failed him.

Penstemon promise is falling a little flat
I was so excited when the penstemon below developed lots of little coral flower buds. I couldn’t wait until those buds opened up in an explosion of red trumpets. Well, a few of them opened yesterday, and the fanfare sort of fizzled out. The whole thing looks spindly and scraggly, doesn’t it? I also noticed that some of the leaves at the base of the plant are curling and turning brown.

We’ve had so much rain in the last week that it can’t possibly be due to lack of water. Hopefully some kind butterfly or hummingbird will take pity on it and visit its flowers despite its sad state.

The current state of the currant
Last fall, I purchased a Red Flowering Currant (Ribes sanguineum; photo below) from my local chapter of the California Native Plant Society (CNPS). I put it under the big oak tree in the front yard because Red Flowering Currants are supposed to be happy under oaks.

She’s definitely grown a lot since I planted her. She has many more leaves. But a lot of those leaves are turning yellow and reddish brown – even some of the newer ones. And, Red Flowering Currants usually bloom in winter and spring. But this lady doesn’t have any buds or flowers yet.

I actually wasn’t feeling too badly about her until I saw the one below at the nursery, the same nursery where I purchased mine.

I started volunteering there a few weeks ago, which has generally been a wonderful experience (I have learned SO much!), but one day I came across this beauty with her cascading pink flowers, and my heart sank. Does my currant just need more time? More water? More verbal encouragement? A good talking-to?

And, finally, a mediocre monkeyflower
The photo below is an example of what seems to happen with a lot of the plants I put in the ground. They do okay, but not great. I mean, this Monkey flower doesn’t look terrible, but it’s a little scrawny, especially compared to the Monkey flower right next to it (not pictured). That one is bushy and has flower buds on it. So what the heck is wrong with this guy? I think it may be a year younger than its neighbor, but I have other, newer Monkey flowers elsewhere in the yard that are gorgeously happy. Of course, they are in partial shade. So maybe I need to move this one? Or should I wait?

I think not knowing what to do is the hardest part for me. I notice these issues with the plants, but I don’t know whether I’m just impatient, have unrealistic expectations, or if there is really something I should do to intervene.

But I try to remember that I’m learning from all of these experiences. I also mentally point out that, just yesterday, I was happy dancing because three more Baby Blue Eyes wildflowers (Nemophila menziesii) had bloomed, bringing the total to four so far (which is three more than bloomed last year!). There are always things to celebrate and things to ponder in the yard.

But I also don’t have to leave it up to the universe to determine my gardening mood. This afternoon before the rain started again, I went outside and scattered wildflower seeds in the spots I weeded yesterday. And, I popped a few young plants into the ground that I started from seed over a year ago. Maybe they’ll flourish or maybe they’ll struggle. But the very act of nurturing them and having my hands in the soil made me feel better.

–Kristen