By Ellen Andersen

I love to garden. I REALLY love to garden—flowers, mostly. I have several friends who do too. We enjoy seeing each other’s creations for the year and often share plants with each other. We talk about what worked and what didn’t, and the surprises we may have had.

The other day one of my friends came over and oohed and aahed over this year’s garden. I’d invited her to take some of my coreopsis since she didn’t have any. Because I hadn’t had time to dig them up for her yet, I showed her what I had and I’ll give them to her later this week.

One of my pots had volunteer balsam in it and she mentioned she liked it. “Take it with you” I said. “They grow like crazy. I had too much and I just threw out several the other day after I planted all I could in these gardens” I said. “Are you sure?” she asked. “Absolutely!” She was doing me a favor, since I had nowhere else to put them and she had lots of room in her garden.

I know she’ll enjoy them the rest of the summer and will probably have many more in the years to come if her luck is anything like mine.