bloom & [hopefully] grow

May 12, 2009

After spending the beginnings of this planting season longing for all variety of gardening delights, this morning was a strange gift. I should perhaps first explain that I have had 2 particular leanings: one being perennials. Not trusting my gardening prowess, I have loved the thought of not counting on one summer alone for the plants to overcome any damages I could have inflicted during the first season. The second leaning has been towards vegetables; or, possibly more to the point, towards anything I can put to practical use, be it herbal of vegetable in nature. Mind you, I am also inclined to find a bouquet of fresh flowers to be sometimes just as “practical” as more obviously useful greens . . . but I digress. Back to the story at hand, I finally broke down last week and purchased a single Basil plant. This was about all I could fathom splurging on, seeing as how I imagined my black thumb to be destined to doom anything it had touched. Shortly thereafter, a good friend bequeathed 2 of her tomato plants to me. I was immensely proud of my paltry little garden, especially since a good number of bulbs managed to bloom from last year as well.
But this morning I was visiting a neighbor and commented on how lovely her yard looked, with its proliferation of vibrant, fuschia poppies. She explained that she had planted a few last year and that they had just taken root, and taken over since then. I replied that, “one could do worse than be overrun by perfectly purple poppies.” She laughed and then pointed to the wheelbarrow filled with uprooted blooms, begging me to take some. I obliged, and promptly lined my deck with a row of these hopefully brilliant lovelies.
Shortly thereafter, I was planting again . . .
Passing by another neighbor’s house, I was stopped, called over by an unknown voice. She hesitated a moment and then asked if, perchance, I would be interested in some tomato plants. Would I? I gasped at the question. Of course I would! It turns out that she runs a mail-order nursery from her home, This year she had planted more tomatoes than usual, from seed, anticipating high sales. But no one seemed to want these, so rows of perfect little plants, of all varieties, were doomed to the dumpster! I warned her of my own bad history with gardening but we decided that they were better off with a not-quite-certain death by black thumb than they would have been with a certain dumpster death.
So in one single day–my “Sabbath” as it were, the day in which I long for solitary work after the happy but tiring nature of worship-leading and church responsibilities–I have been graced with all manner of garden-ly gifts . . . with a boon of blooms :-)

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