Monday, September 29, 2008

Root Down: Sprizzouts in da Hizzouse

"I am Fennel."

Two weeks after planting a plethora of seeds in the newly revitalized raised beds of old, my little homies are coming up strong.

Looking North towards Hancock Golf Course

Phase Two of this Fall's garden is in full swing. Thinning. It's one of the saddest times in an early garden's life. I think I must have had like 100% sprouting success. You sow a few seeds in each hole, and rarely do they all come up, but this year it seems like that was the case. Now I have to thin out, transplant or discard my newly sprouted damies.

Lacinato kale and turnips were the first and hardest hit. I transplanted a few of the kale sprouts to less populated areas of the garden, as well as my hearty looking radishes.

Dirty little Radishes.

Phase Three is imminent -- starting lettuce indoors. Half of the Southern plot is fallow and waiting for some tenants. Thankfully, I have six varieties of lettuce to relocate there.

Helping to remember the fallen.

These Purple Ivy plants were transplanted here about four years ago. They are right under the faucet next to my garden. I have a plan to propagate their existence around the house, yard, and garden. My Mother took these from my G-ma's house in Houston in the Eighties, and transplanted them at our house at the Lake. On a trip out there many years back, I uprooted several of them, and brought them back into town. These represent a tangible connection to my fleeting past; something that both reminds me of my Mother, and my recently sold homestead.

Stay tuned.

3 comments:

Laurie said...

"I am fennel."




A talking plant! Cool. Be sure to save the seeds.

TexasDeb said...

"I am fennel hear me roar - in numbers too large to ignore.." Feminist singing plants maybe?

Reading about your passalong plant from your former home that reminds you of your Mom and Gmom is touching.

We have irises from my husband's Dad's garden and altheas from my Dad's. Both men are long gone and those gardens/houses sold. It is good to have a tangible reminder with us.

I direct sowed my lettuce - at least when I thinned them I could eat the evidence. Not so sad that way.

Flapjacks said...

Lettuce is next.

Plants may be the best way to remember people. Far better than a picture.

Folks who Follow this Blog