Something weird happens when gardeners enter a garden center. We change. Suddenly, somehow, we’re overcome with this vague yet powerful, transcendental feeling of liberation, and we become aware of money we probably have and hopefully won’t otherwise need. It’s like, mentally, we become much richer people. And there, embraced by racks and racks filled to the gills with beautiful and amazing plants, entranced by nooks and crannies crammed with globes and gizmos, wowed by walls of tools, potions and pottery, we wallow in wonder. And we see visions, and dream dreams.
We see a new and better future of great beauty and comfort, good health, ecological abundance and balance. Admittedly we also might see ourselves at the center of fabulous garden parties—in our own damn garden!—with dozens of dazzled guests. So why would we, or even how could we, possibly resist a few impulse purchases?
Of course we can’t. And we can’t because within the wondrous confines of the garden center we also begin to see and understand even more. Although it’s true we want to buy things, it is truer still that we see that we must! The world needs us, desperately, to plant more trees. And shrubs. And perennials. And annuals. Grasses. Groundcovers. And it needs a bird bath too. And maybe a statue. As responsible, committed gardeners, we accept this mantle. For mankind.
Of course, this responsibility comes with a financial burden, but we take it on for the greater good. And we find ways to economize. For instance, to save money we grow our own vegetables. So seed packets go into the cart. Individually pretty cheap, but they add up, so more go into the cart to cover the cost. It’s a complex mathematical formula, but there is method to the madness.
Same as with this: a $20 one-gallon “must-have” perennial is in the cart, but then we see the same perennial in a quart size for $11. Two for just over the price of one! Are you kidding me? Win! But, aesthetically, we know it’s better to plant in odd numbers, so a third goes into the cart. Now spending $33 instead of $20, we confidently make the purchase knowing it’s justified because it’s a smart deal for the garden. And for the planet. And even for art, too! Again, a complex algorithm, but airtight.
But sometimes that “justified” part can be a little rough. Sometimes, on our drive home, instead of reveling in the great choices we made and the verdant ecosystem of plants filling our car—which is what we should be doing—we find ourselves stressed out and writing little speeches in our heads. Speeches we’ll struggle to remember as we’re forced to explain why we just blew up the family finances. Under such tense circumstances, it is always difficult to adequately communicate everything we saw and felt at the garden center.
If only our spouses could see the big picture like we do, they’d know we had no other choice. The solution is clear—bring the spouse along next time.
Illustration by Tom Beuerlein
