My garden just turned 6 years old. For years and years, I kept buying new plants to fill in the gaps — even after I had no gaps left. It got to the point where if I was near a nursery while running errands, I'd poke my head in and nab a few things — especially in late summer and during the fall sale season. Then when I got home, I'd sneak my purchases into the garden, nestle them in among mature plants and hope my wife never noticed. Actually, I knew she wouldn't care, but maybe deep down I cared. My addiction was costing me money, but it didn't have to.