Finally, I’ll Earn My Place in Paradise!

The landscaping of one’s property is almost always preceded by a period of intense negotiations, heightened emotions, tears, and dirty tricks… within the couple who own the property, that is. I imagine it’s even uglier if you bring in a professional landscaper: imagine the tension between three people—unless they’re a skilled mediator. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that disputes over landscaping have led many couples to the brink of divorce.

Imagine your partner, who is normally so understanding, suddenly expressing ideas about landscaping that are completely unacceptable to you: “We could paint the back fence sky blue and draw sunflowers and white clouds on it” (me) or “I can see a big turquoise in-ground pool that will cover the entire backyard” (my wife). No way! That’s impossible! Someone will have to give in!

Plan your strategy

That’s why I suggest that, before the conflict begins (unarmed, I hope), you plan your attack carefully. After all, whoever is prepared always has the advantage. So decide exactly what you want, write down the points on which you refuse to budge, and then learn them by heart. Then burn the sheet of paper: you definitely don’t want to leave any written evidence.

Finally, prepare another set of demands that, deep down, you don’t really care about seeing realized (the blue fence with clouds and sunflowers, for example), and on which you can therefore, in a burst of goodwill and almost unbelievable generosity, after much facial tension and cries of pain, finally give in, making the Other believe that they have just scored a point. While they feel like a winner, slip your true aspirations into the conversation… arguing that, since you have just given in on such a crucial issue, the other person might as well accept at least this little idea, while of course letting them believe that the idea came from them anyway.

If the other person starts to resist again, make another false demand, give in again, and then slip a few more of your real aspirations into the conversation. By giving in, demanding, giving in, demanding, you will eventually get all your points.

Choosing your concessions

However, there is always a pill that is harder to swallow… and you usually know which one it will be. To get it down, you have to be prepared to make a real concession on the most important point for the other person (but only one), preferably the one that is least harmful to your plans, so that when the other person looks at the final layout, even though it is 99.9999% your creation, they can see the object of their fantasy and feel satisfied.

In my case, the “hard pill” was a rooftop garden. I never understood why such a significant waste of space was allowed on our properties. When you fly over your city, you see almost nothing but barren land that serves no purpose whatsoever (except perhaps to prevent rain from watering our houseplants). What a disaster for the environment! A roof covered with vegetation would reduce water loss through runoff, cool the house, purify the air, block out highway noise, and so on. If I had to evangelize the Western world, this would be my only doctrine: encourage everyone to build green roofs.

Unfortunately, I am the over-the-top environmentalist type, while my wife is more of a down-to-earth traditionalist. A rooftop garden? The idea would have seemed far too wild to her: she would never have agreed to it.

Unless…

I knew she really wanted her big, space-consuming turquoise swimming pool. And I couldn’t give in on that point. But let’s suppose there was an alternative solution, less invasive, and just as good for her. A spa, for example? Personally, I have no attraction to spas: I hate hot water and burn after two seconds if I sit in my swimsuit in the sun. But a small spa, with hot water and massage jets, surrounded by a terrace, would surely make her happy… and since I need a terrace to house my countless houseplants that spend the summer outside. So if I present the idea according to the rules of the art…

And here we are, two years after installing the spa. My wife is delighted and spends hours in it every day, from April to October. I only used it four times the first summer and twice last summer to make it clear that it’s her spa. My wife actually thinks it was her idea… and doesn’t even remember that what she originally wanted was a big turquoise pool. And I even won to such an extent that the spa isn’t turquoise (what a relief!), but forest green…

My part

The rest is up to me: the raised bow-shaped terrace is completely surrounded by flower boxes for my plants and will one day appear to float in my water basin next to my waterfall in a garden designed entirely to my liking. What’s more, I’ll be able to admire it all from my rooftop garden. Yes, in exchange for giving in on a concept as radical as a spa, I got the right to do whatever I wanted with the land, including the garden, with a greenhouse, please, on the roof.

There’s just one catch: financing the spa means that I won’t be able to afford to build my water garden, waterfall, flower beds… let alone my rooftop garden, anytime soon. But I think I’ve found a solution. What if, while my wife is at work, I rent out her spa?

---

Larry Hodgson has published thousands of articles and 65 books during his career, in both French and English. His son, Mathieu, has made it his mission to make his father’s writings accessible to the public. This text was originally published in February 2002, in Fleurs, plantes et jardins.