Generation Gap

It's strange how some plants and flowers get labeled as "old fashioned" and fall out of popularity for a time, and that there are trends in the gardening world. But fashion, by its very nature is cyclical, and everything old and forgotten will eventually, given enough time, become the favorite new thing. There are, however, some flowers that seem to be trend proof. Old standbys that, due to some unique quality, seem to have always been and will always be. New gardeners make their own choices based on a lifetime of prejudices instilled by mothers, and neighbors and friends. Finding comfort in familiarity and excitement in the exotic.

When I was little girl I loved snapdragons (what kid doesn't) and moss roses. I begged my mother to plant big swaths of them in all their rainbow hues. As of today neither of us have them planted in our yards. Truthfully, I wouldn't even consider it. My mother's mother grew peonies and bearded irises. She had huge peony bushes, powdery pink and fuchsia, with their wonderful spicy sweet scent, always covered with bees and ants; and big clusters of purple iris lining her gravel driveway. I loved those flowers my grandmother grew. I thought the peonies magically ruffly and the iris were always so elegant; my mother hated them, at least hated them as much as anyone can hate a flower. In my case, ever since the first time I saw them, I have always hated geraniums and marigolds; thinking them  unattractive and  finding their scent repulsive. But now I know that there are reasons behind every planting decision, even geraniums and marigolds.

Now that I am  actually gardening, I get to make my own choices for what to plant. Initially I thought I would have an abundance of unfamiliar, special order flowers, but then realized that I don't have the water or the soil for such plants. So my garden seems to have sorted itself out into an amalgamation of the gardens of the women in my family before me: my paternal grandmother's hostas, my maternal grandmother's peonies, and my mom's hen and chicks, myrtle and coral bells. (Also the hopeless in southern Ohio, but oh-so alluring, tuberous begonia; my mother has never been able to resist them, and neither can I.)  But the other plants and flowers that I have read like a litany of traditional farm flowers, all with their unique qualities or purpose: geraniums and marigolds to repel insects, sunflowers for the birds, zinnias for cutting, lavender for the fragrance. All of these are classic farm flora, people have been growing these flowers in the Midwest for a hundred years, and I assume that they will continue to. They have all withstood the test of time and outlasted trends and fads because they each have something unique to contribute and somehow, they just make sense.