Yesterday I made my seasonal pilgrimage to the nursery to buy annuals for spring planting. Every year I seem more reluctant to spend money on plants that only bloom once. Is it creeping stinginess or am I finally coming to my senses?

I think the latter. After all, the plants that look so glorious on a brilliant, blue-sky May morning can shrivel and droop as early as late June. Better to make do with what I have, to plant the zinnia seeds (soon!) and be patient for color in the garden.

And then there are the deer that skulk around looking for their next meal. They’d like nothing more than to tuck into some succulent new plants.

Gardening in the suburbs: It’s not for the faint-of-heart.