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March
Mar. 3rd, 2006 | 09:26 am
I was a Spring baby, so this morning I have a Spring baby report.
It's finally warm enough to walk out onto my terrace and not get a chill in the morning.
That means its near time to begin this year's new fauna arrangements, throughout winter I never touch or water or prune or anything.
Cherry tree has bloomed one bud, is lovely in her single flowered woody nakedness, while her other buds ripen. She's asking me to haul two huge bags of new dirt up the elevator and to lift her current half sea level.
A small choir of three rose bushes purchased for 3.19 euro /piece from the supermarket want dirt too- and vases, and for me to decide where I'll place them, which is difficult, and not made easier, in a run on sentence, in a blog entry, because according to their tags, one's orange, one's red and one's yellow and red.
The buddy Jasmine twins have less dead wood to prune than usual, last year I had to give them both several drastic haircuts and now, it seems, they have learned to calm down. Ms. Papyrus took up the need for pruning slack and wants a bob.
Hat off and ribbons of courage to Strawberries and Parsley who disobediantly to the book, survived the winter. I'm thrilled that my terrace alots some sort of mysterious microclimate permitting them...maybe the Universe told'em- Whacko terrace gardener lives there-do your thing, whatever it is.
Signora Mint is also reincarnating her greenery- but she is one of my most accountable plants that way. She's been slumbering and reviving for over eight annual seasons now.
Fuchsia is whispering with her thin remaining voice that she desperately wants the sun to warm her, and the avocado sisters agree. But unless I get glow lights there's nothing I can do for them besides ask for a bit more patience.
Almost all of my plants were yelling because this winter's fiercest enemy was powerful wind. I remind them that if it had been heavy freeze instead they wouldn't be any happier and might not be infact, still living. The yuccas can't stand up in their bins anymore, Laurel can and does but all of these tallish trees should really be given to a new outdoor home with a yard. I don't believe Gillian could part with our tuwee year Twismas twee, even though HE
should probably also find a more appropriate fowest.
It's finally warm enough to walk out onto my terrace and not get a chill in the morning.
That means its near time to begin this year's new fauna arrangements, throughout winter I never touch or water or prune or anything.
Cherry tree has bloomed one bud, is lovely in her single flowered woody nakedness, while her other buds ripen. She's asking me to haul two huge bags of new dirt up the elevator and to lift her current half sea level.
A small choir of three rose bushes purchased for 3.19 euro /piece from the supermarket want dirt too- and vases, and for me to decide where I'll place them, which is difficult, and not made easier, in a run on sentence, in a blog entry, because according to their tags, one's orange, one's red and one's yellow and red.
The buddy Jasmine twins have less dead wood to prune than usual, last year I had to give them both several drastic haircuts and now, it seems, they have learned to calm down. Ms. Papyrus took up the need for pruning slack and wants a bob.
Hat off and ribbons of courage to Strawberries and Parsley who disobediantly to the book, survived the winter. I'm thrilled that my terrace alots some sort of mysterious microclimate permitting them...maybe the Universe told'em- Whacko terrace gardener lives there-do your thing, whatever it is.
Signora Mint is also reincarnating her greenery- but she is one of my most accountable plants that way. She's been slumbering and reviving for over eight annual seasons now.
Fuchsia is whispering with her thin remaining voice that she desperately wants the sun to warm her, and the avocado sisters agree. But unless I get glow lights there's nothing I can do for them besides ask for a bit more patience.
Almost all of my plants were yelling because this winter's fiercest enemy was powerful wind. I remind them that if it had been heavy freeze instead they wouldn't be any happier and might not be infact, still living. The yuccas can't stand up in their bins anymore, Laurel can and does but all of these tallish trees should really be given to a new outdoor home with a yard. I don't believe Gillian could part with our tuwee year Twismas twee, even though HE
should probably also find a more appropriate fowest.