Mulch ado about nothing

the gladiolas was another “room“ that had a spectacular vine with red trumpet flowers covering it.
    “That’s my only really big mistake,“ Miss Winstead said, having followed Jane.
    “How can it be a mistake? It’s beautiful! So lush and such a brilliant color.“
    “But it’s a thug,“ Miss Winstead said. “It spreads like wild, sort of like kudzu but prettier. I know people who have had it near their house and it’s put down roots that go under the house, and plants come in cracks in the basement. Cracks it apparently causes. It tears down fences, forcing itself between the slats and moving into other yards. This fall I’m taking it out if I can. I didn’t know enough about it before I planted it. It was a spur-of-the-moment purchase because I liked the flowers and the shape. It will probably take years of weed killer to totally eradicate it.“
    “That’s a pity.“
    “Yes, it is. But I can’t let a vandal take over the yard. Come see the pool.“
    “There’s a pool?”
    It was in the lowest spot and was fed by a stream falling over lovely round river rocks. A fountain that looked like a well-greened copper Neptune spouted water from his trident, and goldfish frolicked colorfully around the water lilies below. Black ones, orange ones, and a pair of huge gold ones that looked like they were truly armored in gold plate. “That pair are koi,“ Miss Winstead said. “I’m afraid I’m eventually going to have to find another home for them when they get so big that they eat everyone else. They can get absolutely huge.”
    A frog was startled by their approach and leaped into the pool like kids do cannonballs into a swimming pool. Most of the water lilies were lemon-sherbet yellow, and another plant had sprays of lacy flower heads dropping over the edge. “What are those?“ Jane asked.
    “Oh, just common papyrus,“ Miss Winstead said.
    “I’ve never seen papyrus growing for real,“ Jane said. “It doesn’t look common at all. Isn’t this a huge amount of work? The water is crystal-clear. No green goo at all.“
    “I just clean the filters about every five days. It’s a messy job, but with natural biological deterrents added, enzymes that starve algae, it keeps clean. And I have a pair of men who winterize it for me. It was they who put the pool in to start with and they know it well.“
    “Winterize?“
    “They net it in the fall to keep the oak leaves from the yard behind me from falling into the water—they would make the water acid and eventually rot and cause pollution. My men come back out when the leaves have all fallen and take the leaves and net away. Then they catch the fish and snails and frogs and put them in big buckets of water, drain and clean the pool, turn off the fountain, refill the pool with fresh dechlorinated water, and put a bubbler in to keep an area clear to get rid of the methane that would be trapped and kill the fish and plants. They’re the same young men who constructed the terraces and paths over the years as I found materials I liked.“
    “You go shopping for rocks? Where?”
    Miss Winstead looked at Jane somewhat pityingly and said, “At rock suppliers. The ones at most nurseries that even carry rocks have such artificial-looking junk.“
    “You’re so fortunate to have help with this,“ Jane said. “But I bet you do all the gardening yourself.”
    Miss Winstead looked surprised. “Of course I do. It’s all to my taste and who would know my taste except myself?“
    “How do you keep that moss alive in the bricks? I’ve always wanted a little moss garden in a bowl, and I kill moss faster than anyone can believe.“
    “Never water, only mist,“ Miss Winstead said. “And make sure it’s in a cool place with shade.“
    “I’m glad to know you can get around well when you want to,“ Shelley said, joining them at the side of the pool. “I’m going to remember this when you try to convince me you’re helpless. Miss Winstead, this is the most beautiful garden I’ve ever seen.”
    Miss Winstead allowed herself a moment of preening, then said, “A person who really wants something badly enough will do anything to have it. It’s a lot of work, but all enjoyable. If I lived in the South where I had to keep up with weeds and insects all year round, I’d have an apartment instead of gardening. And the only plants would be violets on the windowsills.“
    “Why is that?“ Shelley asked.
    “Because I love putting the garden to bed in