Garden 10: Foxglove and Weed Digger

We can't ignore the garage much longer. Or can we... 

Broken foxglove, ant, Shooting House

The realtor who sold us the house gave me a film canister of foxglove seed and a gardening manual when we closed the deal. It wasn't David Richardson, though he sends a poinsettia every November, and ensures we never run out of calendars or shopping list paper. His pitch involves inviting himself over for coffee. I avoid making coffee.

I knew it would take two years to produce flowers, but I didn't know the difference between foxglove seedlings and bachelor buttons. I yanked them out before they could bloom. These came from the neighbourhood and my mother's garden. They pop up each year in unexpected and inconvenient places. I don't like to discourage them.

The dandelion digger - one of the best Mother's Day gifts ever - at the ready. My friend's husband replaced the handle for my 50th birthday.

It's 50:50 whether the snow shovel and salt will find their way to the garage before they are needed again, but I always make sure to suitably store my weed digger in time for winter.

Garden 14:  Harvest
Garden 13: Abandoned Stuff, Things of Beauty
Garden 12: Death and Potential
Garden 11: Japanese Maple Tree and Sedum (?)
Garden 9: Veggies and Sweet Pea 
Garden 8: Gnomes and Slugs
Garden 7: The Lady Next Door
Garden 6: Euphorbia and Rusted, Metal Things
Garden 5: Cement Bench and Wallflower
Garden 4: Maryjane
Garden 3: Family Portrait
Garden 2: The Neighbours'
Garden 1: Lilac Bush and Abandoned Cans