In gray morning light, Jennifer and I loaded her truck and trailer and hit the road for gardening jobs. Loading talk is all business, but once we get in the truck, the conversation skeeters around like some of the tools in the trailer.
“Jenks, Should I get a new work truck? The tax guy always tells me to upgrade trucks.”
I sighed, “My tax guy, too, but I’m not gonna ‘cause the old Tundras are made for work. The new ones are for people who just want a truck as a status symbol.”
“Jenks, how did we go from the days when food, music, and bars were our conversation to tax talk now? Jenks, I also want a tennis car.” She says my name a lot to emphasize points.
She took a hard turn. Coffee slopped onto my overalls as she rounded a corner. I like that coffee and denim smell. I wasn’t really paying attention so I asked, “What’s that mean?”
“You know. I need a cute little SUV to drive to meet the other Moms for lunch or tennis. And to pick up the kids.”
Jennifer doesn’t get to do much of that these days. We’ve known each other for 30 years. We both have busy lives, so we don’t get enough time to catch up. Gardening and being in the truck together gives us that chance. She needed some help today, so here we are, four hours together to work for two of her clients and then catch up on personal stuff and trade some plant tips.
“You finally had some time to read my new book?” I asked but didn’t wait for her to answer, “When I was writing, I talked to a lot of our old friends. Jordan, Sergio, Mel, Jim. You know Jesse died a few weeks ago.”
“Jenks, you know I’m not a reader. But when I opened that book on the plane, I read straight through. But I don’t remember Jesse.”
We needed this. We had 30 minutes of truck talk before she pulled into the first client’s driveway. “What do you think? Should I park here and block their driveway? I’ll block it.”
Truck talk, pick-up bonding, tailgate philosophy, or whatever you want to call it, is the best. We got more in those 30 minutes than we’d get in an hour at happy hour.
Work Time Planting Lessons
Jen’s not only a creative garden designer but also understands her clients. They know this; they trust her to do it right, and they like her.
“This client, she’ll come out to chat. She’ll love you. She told me not to spend too much on the entry planting as the brick column has to be reworked. But you know how masons are. It might take 3 years. So, I decided to do more than what she said. Otherwise, what we do will look piddly, and they’ll be unhappy, and I’ll be unhappy.”
Jen pulled out her plant cart and started loading it up, “I stretched the budget a bit. I did a value job. But these Ligularia. Do you know what the retail price is for a damn one-gallon ligularia? 23 dollars! Can you believe that? But I have a creative value plan.”
“Jennifer, you’re boss. I’ll start putting out the organic amendment mix, raking in. You get the plants and layout.” I know how to anticipate work needs – the hardest part of gardening.
She points to a 45-pound bag brown paper bag with a tiny rectangular sticker. “Jenks. Go with the Purely Organics first. You know what you just did, that anticipation and action? Anticipating and then acting on the next step is the hardest thing to teach new gardeners. By the way, Mr. Young is in his late 80s, and he’s still making Purely Organics. He’s making 3,000 pounds this week. He still delivers to me. If you want some, call him. He can drop it with me. You should write about him, not me.”
I get to work thinking; Wow! I haven’t seen Mr. Young in 20 years. Back when Jennifer, a few years my junior, was a new gardener I was teaching her how to garden. And Jennifer, many years enlightened beyond me about people and personal happiness was teaching me to get out and meet a new crowd.
We were integral parts of each other’s growth.
Jennifer starts unloading plants, lays them out, then says, “So here’s the simple, pretty, tough and high-impact, low-cost plan. Ligularia, just ten to keep the overall price down. Baby Wings begonia. And a mass of asparagus ferns rounding the column, where it’s really dry.”
“Pretty. But the begonia will die out in winter.”
“Jenks. Baby Wings will live forever if only people would leave it alone. They think it's annual, but it’s completely perennial. Cut it back in November, plant some pansies over it, and next spring, it will push through the pansies. But I see piles of asparagus fern, too, pulled up and thrown out in the fall.”
“Wow. I didn’t know. I bought all these expensive ‘perennial begonias’ from Plant Delights” to test, and none of them made it through winter,” I griped.
She shook her head, “Wasted money. Baby Wings are cheap and perennial. So this ‘value’ border is all little pots of begonias and little pots of asparagus ferns, and it will be lovely by July and then last for years.”
I could make an entire list of tips from the professional; stick with cheap hoses, but splurge on great Japanese pruners, make damn sure the client’s housekeeper is happy, and plan every step of your gardening.
Here’s a short video of some of our work and a tip that Jennifer learned from another of the Garden Disruptors—the crew we were with when we were young and talked about music, food, and plants. (Click on the video to make it full-screen.)
Jennifer’s company, Fine Gardening, works mostly in Columbia, SC.
Read more about Jennifer Glass and the fun days of the -90s when we worked together on a crew breaking ground, planting, and enjoying lots of truck time. We were growing together on the construction site of Riverbanks Botanical Garden.
The Garden is almost 30 years old and hosts about one million folks a year. The book is:
I'm horrible about pruning but maybe this will make me braver! I always get great tips from your videos!
Why am I so mesmerized by everything you do? You & Jennifer make pruning look like a party.