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I have land, more than enough land, but very little money and less time. My Beloved laughs when I say I'm a lazy gardener. It's true that I'm out there before the sun gets up and he has to drag me indoors when it's dark, but I don't plant my carrots in rows or deadhead my dahlias and I never turn the soil. I hardly ever water. Only the babies in my beds are coddled.
I follow only one rule. The gorgeous sweep of colour, the upthrust, trailing shapes, the accidental pairings that make me laugh or weep with their unlikely beauty — they exist to please. These gardens don't cost the earth, though they are, in their small way, part of its salvation.
I am resourceful and devoted, self-centered and irreverent, enthusiastic to the point of ecstasy about my plants. I live in a cultivated world alive with sensual delight, a world I shape with my own hands.
I am a frugalista gardener.
— Merilyn Simonds