“Darling, Sedum Autumn Joy,” you are a bit leggier this year than last, but no less lovely.”
Never chastise your sedums if they don’t have the shape you desire. Take full responsibility for not pinching them back earlier in the spring. After all, this is a cooperative arrangement. You pinch; they grow thicker and bushier.
On to a conversation with your Agastache. It’s such a flexible plant that you can pronounce its name any way you want. Here’s one variation. And another. That tall, withered plant before you is your Agastache “Tutti Frutti,” about to bite the dust despite its drought-tolerant abilities. Address it thus:
“Thank you for your short (one season) and somewhat beautiful life. Farewell, I must move on to Agastache “blue fortune.” It will withstand our New England winters better. No hard feelings, love.” Onward to my roses.
“Dear geriatric rose ‘New Dawn,’ what is it you crave?” A breakfast of Espoma Rose-Tone 4-3-2? Coming right up.”
See, there’s nothing to it. Don’t be shy. If Joe Pye weed swaying in the autumn breeze inspires you to sing, go for it. You sing off-key? Who cares? The singing will do you both good.
How do you talk to a plant? Lovingly. Tenderly. The same way you talk to family members, friends and strangers at the airport. We’re all in this together – every living thing.