musings on the will to live

So, yes. Of the earlier seedlings planted, all the tomato seedlings came up, and got a little scrawny from the lack of light (they sprouted faster than I expected, and I didn't tell fishy to move them to the sunroom soon enough) but by all reports they are doing fine. The peppers are taking longer than I expected, but I am sure part of that is due to cold temperatures. More than one are up now, so that's good. The peppers I really want, because I will make jelly with them again.

And much to my surprise, all the asclepias sprouted! And fast, too. They were up as fast as the tomatoes, and got their first true leaves faster too. Who knew? I expected them to be too soggy, as I over-wet the seeding mix I had them in.

One of the things Abbie Zabar says that always gives me hope is that plants want to grow. So you can do a lot of terrible things to most plants, and they'll still try to grow through it. Seeds especially. This is part of my gardening strategy. I figure that the plants are going to try to grow anyways, so any help I give them is totally a bonus. If the plant doesn't have the will to live even with the help I give it, well, I tried. Generally, this works out quite well for me, and surprisingly well for most of my plants.

Incidentally, the latest Norfolk pine in the house is showing every sign of being a wuss. In my experience, most Norfolk pines are wusses. So is rosemary. And lobelia. And thunbergia. And morning glory. Asclepias, on the other hand, is a fighter.

/insert random hockey note (I promise not to do this very often)

It's a good thing the asclepias is a fighter, because the Ottawa Senators crushed me again this year, despite all the very loud yelling and cheering I did. If this year's Ottawa Senators were a plant, they would be the hostas in our front yard -- looking awesome at the beginning of the season, and wilting away to burnt-out husks by the end. Ah well. I am going to transplant those hostas to a more suitable location, where they will flourish. And Bryan Murray, sadly, going to be forced to do some uprooting of his own.

/end random hockey note (seriously, the season is over, I'm done)

Zabar, Abbie. The potted herb. Stewart, Tabori and Chang: 1988.

I am cheating a little by reviewing this book. I have had it for years. I think, to be honest, that it was the first gardening book I ever purchased for myself. I bought it as a hardcover. I don't usually buy hardcovers but this one is absolutely lovely as a hardcover specimen. Unfortunately, much to my dismay, a raindrop hit it once and the matting on the cover was discoloured in one place, which is frankly ridiculous. Shouldn't be that easy, especially for a garden book.

What attracted me in the first place were Zabar's pen drawings, which are whimsical and delightful and perfect for this whimsical, delightful little book. Frankly, the drawings are really much of the charm of the book itself. Zabar's style of writing is charming, but sometimes a little... well, I suppose patronizing might be the term, although it's not quite right. I can ignore those moments. Some of the data is also dated, including contact information for various suppliers. But that's also easily ignored.

What drives me a little crazy is how easy she makes everything sound. Growing rosemary is not that easy! I have tried it numerous times. I always, always kill it. The one time I didn't kill it, fishy did (although if we are honest with ourselves, I didn't kill it because I really hadn't had time yet). But I suppose one of the things about gardening books is that it gives me a standard to aspire to. So I will probably buy another pot of rosemary this spring and try again.

This book makes me want to do wonderful things with herbs in pots. But what I really love about it is the little bits of historical information and folklore that thread their way through the text. Herbs have a long, sometimes crazy history (the Greeks, for example, used to put curses on basil, and the Roman man who accepted a sprig of basil from his lover was destined to love her for life). I read this stuff and get all inspired, not just to garden in pots, but to plant a bay laurel tree to keep the lightning and flames from entering my house; and maybe even to write a short story or two about the beekeeper who rubs thyme on the hives to entice the bees.

i'm starting to feel like an adult

I may end up posting a whole bunch today. I wonder if I should hold off, so I've got some stuff to say next week too... but this is exciting. The new dining room table is here:

I think it looks great.

growing again

It is raining. Things are growing, or starting to. I would have taken pictures except that I have had bad experiences in the past with cameras in the rain.

The ground is extremely soggy today, and there are portions of the back yard, and the front boulevard, that are completely covered in a mat of leaves from last fall. We kept an eye on that, so I'm not sure how it happened -- but if the leaves in the front don't get dealt with, they are going to kill the grass completely. I guess I could plant sedum there, then.

I haven't really had a good look at the front yard, but I walked around the back yard in the rain this morning. The iris I planted are starting to come up, or some of them are. It looks like I planted them a little too shallowly in the fall, so I think I'll lay some thick compost mulch around them this spring. The fritillaria is shooting up, the daylilies are starting to grow (no word yet on whether or not the ones I planted, the ones I got instead of the salvia, are growing; I can't remember where I planted them). There are tulips and croci sprouting up everywhere, with apparent minimal damage from squirrels. I half wonder if it's because the squirrels are full of birdseed. Daffodils and hyacinths are up. I couldn't tell if the ferns and the single dog-tooth violet I got from Veseys have sprouted around the tree. Since I didn't get any photos today, here's a photo by fishy of the fritillaria in bloom from last year (it was quite spectacular):



The spring garlic is going like mad. And interestingly, one of the rhubarb plants, both of which I thought were quite dead, is alive. I don't exactly know what to do about that. I do want rhubarb in my garden, but my suspicion is that it is not going to do at all well where it is. I don't think rhubarb really likes to be moved, though. I don't really have time to do it today anyways, since if there is any garden work to be done it will be to move the hostas out of the front yard and into the back somewhere, and then maybe even move the grass to the front.

The shallots I planted last year and didn't manage to harvest are all up this year, which kind of blows my mind a bit. I will have to take them out, but I don't know if I can do anything with them (like divide them and let them grow, and harvest them?) or not. Will have to do some reading.

Will have photos of the sprouted plants in the sunroom, and of my efforts to plant strawberries later on.

happy bird times!

Spring birds are definitely back. I have to say, to my chagrin, the phoebes are back in earnest -- I saw one singing like mad from the top of a tree as I walked back from the cafeteria with my coffee. I could hear him once I was back in the library too. The windows here are hardly sealed tight.

Scaups and ring-necked ducks are on the river, and I saw a black duck dabbling in the driving range/lake across the road from work here. Song sparrows, swamp sparrows and tree sparrows are all singing, robins wake me up in the morning, and the grackles are really actually quite gorgeous.

I've also figured out that my summer schedule will allow for a four-day trip to Pelee, and a four-day trip to Tobermory later on. Hooray!