A few years ago, the Alzheimer's society sold Forget-me-not seeds as a fundraiser. I planted them in a corner of my garden, and they flourished. I enjoyed the beautiful little blue flowers and lush green leaves.

When the plant matures, it turns brown and brittle, and I tend to pull it out. At this point, the seed develops a kind of prickly cover that clings to cloth, and they attach themselves to everything. Now, there are Forget-me-nots in every corner of my garden. I have to thin them out, or they would choke the more delicate plants.

Someone gave me sunflower seeds, also a fundraiser, in hopes that I would have a story about that organization. Sadly, not one of those seeds sprouted. I kept planting sunflowers, however, and one year I had a great crop of two different kinds. Birds were thrilled. They ate from the mature flowers and scattered some of the seeds. Now I have volunteer sunflowers around the garden.

Again, I have to thin them in some places. The big tall plant does not fit among the lilies, and they would shade the beans in the vegetable garden if they could. But scattered around the garden, they provide lovely flowers and September food for the birds.

At a funeral, a woman distributed little packets of purple poppy seeds in memory of the person who had died. These flourished when I planted them, and I let the seeds fall where they would. I had to watch the next spring when I was weeding that I did not pull out the fragile new plants. I have managed to keep them going in a couple places, but they require attention. Weeds sprout sooner and would crowd out the poppies. I get right down and sort carefully in the places where I expect them to grow. Red poppies seem hardier, and I have a hillside of them every spring.

Most years, I try an experiment in the garden with a new plant. One year I got ground cherry roots. These tiny fruit are very tasty, and we enjoyed them, but they were a challenge to pick at just the right time. When ripe, they fall to the ground at the slightest touch, so I did not buy more the next year. But I had missed some of the fruit, so they came back. I have a permanent patch of ground cherries.

While peas grow well in the vegetable garden, I had a hard time finding a place for sweet peas. I think the wall I tried to grow them on was too hot and dry. Eventually, I found a spot in the front yard and another beside the house that worked. One I planted with wild seeds I had collected beside the road, and there are purple flowers there every year. Another I planted with a pale blue flower. These came back blue for several years, then one year they were pure white. That also continued for a few years. Now there are as many purple as white, and I expect the white will slowly disappear. Purple will take over.

The wall where I tried to grow sweet peas now supports morning glory. They flourish in this spot so the wall is full of colour each morning in later August. I collect the seeds in the fall when they ripen and keep them to replant the next year. Last year, with the drought, the plants bloomed too late for the seeds to mature fully, and I had to buy more seed. This year again the plants have been slow growing, but this week's heat has finally spurred them on. I will watch for mature seeds to save.

On the north side of the house, Chinese Lanterns flourish, planted by the people who owned the house before us. They keep seeding themselves. Somewhere in the middle of the patch of green leaves and orange seed pods, there is a strong clematis root. This plant climbs up the spruce trees and puts out beautiful purple flowers. Sometimes I think I should move it to a place we could see it better, but in the mass of lantern plants, I can't find the root. I don't want to risk killing it by putting it in a spot it did not like. Each year, it finds its own way to flourish.

Cathy Hird is a farmer, minister, and writer living near Walters Falls.