Purple heart and mistflower (Eupatorium coelestinum)
I have a theory that the better your garden looks, the worse you look while working in it. Or perhaps it’s the other way around. Or maybe it’s just me. God knows I’m no Bree Van de Camp when I’m gardening. Bree: immaculately pressed, tucked, and powdered while tending her prize hydrangeas, her red hair neatly pigtailed. Me: dripping with sweat, red-faced, wild-haired, black clay under my broken nails, sporting a dirty T-shirt and muddy pants.
I ruminated today on the inverse relationship between garden beauty and personal beauty as I hacked and pulled at two half-dead coral honeysuckle vines on my fence. It was my 39th birthday today. The last year of my thirties was now ticking away. My back was aching. I was a mess. But, boy, aside from the anemic vines, the garden looked pretty darn good.
As I said, I’m no Bree, nor Susan, Lynette, or Gabrielle. Despite approaching 40, I’m not desperate yet. The 30s have been good to me. And from what I can tell, 40-something looks all right too.
Here are some pictures I took this morning, mostly in the back yard, before my attack on the vines.

‘Valentine’ roses

Some sort of muhly, I don’t know what kind, in bloom

A closeup of the muhly’s pinkish inflorescence

Butterfly vine’s lemon-yellow flowers

The “butterflies” on the vine are really its seedpods.

Salvia guaranitica

‘Marie Pavie’ rosebud

‘Marie Pavie’ rose

Bat-faced cuphea and Salvia guaranitica

Diagonal view of front garden

‘Belinda’s Dream’ rose is having a spectacular rebloom now that fall is here (officially, though it has not been reflected in our temperatures of late; today’s high was 92 degrees).

Belinda trio