Sometimes You Need Your Own Garden ..

I bought my house 5 years ago predominantly because I struggled not having a garden of my own. I used to rent a little unit in a really great area that I just managed to afford because it was run down and had no outdoor space of its own. The woman across the hall had a pot plant in the entrance just outside my door, so I figured that a few little pot plants must be ok and would probably keep me happy.

I bought a gardenia, a patio rose and a couple of other plants and put them outside right up against the walls of my unit. It looked nice, so I bought a few more. Then I saw some azaleas on sale and I had to get a plant stand. I hung a bird-seed bell from a banksia outside my window and the parrots loved it.

I also put some window-boxes of pansies on the window sills outside the bedrooms. The pansies were deliriously happy where they were and flowered prolifically. A blue fairy wren and his girlfriend moved into the boxes, tweeting and fluttering about in the windows collecting insects. I wrote in to Burke’s Backyard magazine about them and my letter was printed, which for me was the bees knees!

One afternoon when my neighbour had an open inspection to sell her unit, the real estate agent caught me as I was bringing in some groceries. He was thrilled at my flowers. He said they brightened up the place, making it look like people cared and enjoyed living here which improved the response to the unit (and of course his commission). I felt most pleased with myself and my efforts.

A short time later, I received a letter in my mailbox from the Body Corporate of the unit complex asking me to immediately remove my plants, including window boxes, as they were on communal property. A copy of this letter was also forwarded to my landlord. I was mortified that I had become the “Mad Plant Woman” of the complex whose eccentricities everyone secretly whispered about. I mentioned this to my neighbour, who thought the whole thing was outrageous and told me that there was one person on the committee who didn’t get out much and generally pushed a draconian adherence to policy. At this point I started to get angry. Sure, I had probably gone a little overboard – I had completely stopped counting plants at that point – but they weren’t near any walkways or in anyone’s way (particularly not on my window sills!) and there was always something in flower looking pretty. Asking me to get rid of *all* of them seemed a bit extreme.

I composed my own letter in response. I was very apologetic at causing anyone any disturbance and said that I had just been trying to make the area pretty for everyone. Of course I would remove them immediately if people didn’t like them but begged to be allowed to keep one or two of my favourite plants. I sent this back to the Body Corporate’s agent, cc’d a copy to my landlord and also put a copy in the letterbox of everyone in the complex. It had the desired effect. I had neighbours I’d never spoken to knocking on my door and approaching me in the car park saying that they thought my plants were lovely and that this was blatantly ridiculous. A number of the other renters had also raised it with their landlords. Whoever had raised the issue in the first place faced an uproar at the next meeting and I was told that I’d be able to keep my plants, though asked if I could please limit the number. Fair enough, I thought, I’d won the day. I moved most of them to my boyfriend’s house, where I had regular visiting hours and kept about half a dozen favourites at home.

Though I was satisfied at prevailing over the complex busybody, I missed having them all there and being able to see them grown and change daily. I realised that what I really needed was some space of my own to play with. I moved out not long after to a house owned by some friends that were going away and wanted something done with their garden – perfect, right? As much as I enjoyed it and was able to play to my heart’s content, I still had someone else’s rules to follow and it could never really be mine. 

My mother saw my frustration and helped me buy my first house about a year later – an investment property for her and a home for me. I bought her out a couple of years ago. I am eternally grateful for her help – buying a house is something I could never have done by myself and to be honest I don’t understand how young couples do it now as the market is SO expensive. For the first time I felt truly free and I feel incredibly lucky to have had that. I have been able to try out lots of crazy ideas, found out what has worked, what hasn’t and sometimes it ended up as a big mess but that’s completely fine because it was *my* mess. I’ve overhauled and re-overhauled my garden, with every planting holding a story and meaning for me, and I never tire of it. (Well, sometimes my body does – often my head has plans that my body has difficulty with but it really just has to get with the program!) I know that one day we’ll have to move to a bigger house, but many of my plants will just have to face the relocation with me, as they have times previous.

I still have that gardenia.