I have two wheelbarrows that have given up their primary purposes as weight-bearing haulers. Instead of sending them to the landfill, they are spending their retirement as planters for my flowers in the front yard.
With more dirt under my nails and more gardening experience under my belt, I choose the summer flowers with more confidence and knowledge of their previous performances.
One summer I was interested in changing things up, so I paired petunias with geraniums. Both plants handle heat and direct sun well. (They've been known to thrive even when I forget to water them between rain showers--a real bonus!) These wheelbarrow planters are bathed in sunshine all afternoon and evening.
I planted each of the small blossoms in both planters, and the petunias took off. They thrived in their new soil and grew so much the geraniums got lost in the petunias' expansion. I have a sentimental attachment to geraniums--my elderly next door neighbor had pot after pot of red geraniums around her front walk, and while geraniums don't have a beautiful fragrance, that smell takes me right back to my childhood.
The truth is I don't actually like petunias. But...I really like how their pops of color and thick growth are visible from the sidewalk and street, and that's what I'd hoped for when I filled my planters.
As I consider the changes that have come to every aspect of work in the past 12-18 months, my petunias come to mind. For most people, change is not their preference. It's comforting to know what to expect day in and day out, but that comfort can turn to complacency and even inefficiencies when it's not challenged. Nearly every function of my job has changed both from the remote work perspective related to the global pandemic as well as other staffing changes that came about.
If I'm honest, the shift to remote work presented an opportunity to be plucked out of the "this is how we've always done it" mode. I can think of no fewer than three daily processes I oversee that have been streamlined out of necessity while working from home. I will return to the office in a few weeks with improved processes and renewed energy tucked into my laptop bag.
These changes--improvements--are like the petunias in my wheelbarrow planters. I didn't expect that either would perform so well or that I could become fond of them--if not outright like them. But now that I've identified how they both function and improve my garden and work, there's no going back.
