Something that comes in beautiful worth much more

Got this unique ring from Cerasus today that comes together with the box and dry flowers in it. 'Cerasus' is the accessory line for ladies wear 'Vlas Blomme'. A brand that is very unique and really putted lots of effect on every piece of design. Not only on the product itself but also for the total package. From materials to craftmanship, from designs to package, everything makes the pieces worth a thousand more.

They also appreciate other designers a lot. Where they do collabrations with a lot of other designers together to exchange ideas and to creat more interesting pieces that are more like art than just a product. Like this wreath that I got was a collabration with a garden designer and also a plant coordinator called 'Green Fingers'. So beautifully made that will surely be a piece that I will like to put up every christmas♪

Horticulturally challenged

The wasteland that is my backyard taught me three important lessons about gardening.
1) Knowing is not the same as doing.
2) Trying to do too much will lead to not doing.
3) I am not a gardener.

Too much too soon

I come from a family of scholars. Naturally, I think the best way to learn about something is to read. Better yet, learn from a master. So when we bought a house with a beautiful yard over three years ago, I took a gardening class at City College, read a gazillion books on gardening, got the feed from the hip gardening blog You Grow Girl, and even subscribed to Fine Gardening magazine. At one point, I was growing strawberries, snow peas, lettuce, blueberries, potatoes, and a variety of herbs.

The crash

Now the garden is in utter disarray. Weeds are overgrown. All the new plants are dead. Even some of the original ones—the jasmine flowers, the reeds—have died. I can't even bear to look at the garden without being filled with remorse, guilt and shame.

What did I do to arrive at this disaster? Nothing. I did nothing. I got tired; I got impatient; I lost interest. I'm just not passionate about gardening enough to want to dedicate all my free time to it. I want to make films, to draw, to do yoga, to read, to do so many other things! When my bubble of initial excitement burst, I crashed so fast and so hard that I simply stepped away. I had no exit strategy. I just stopped doing anything. Not even watering the plants.

What next?

But the garden is still there. In the backyard. Looking more miserable day by day. I guess I have to do something. Maybe just a couple of hours every weekend. Nothing big—just weeding, watering, and clearing the dead stuff. That's it. This time, I'm going to start small. Do a little. And then let's see how that goes.