“Happy Hour*”

(March 22, 2018)


all bar-bellied-up

one-hour water-hose duty

plants say to me cheers!


  • (Mostly container-ized, with a possible frost-zone watch if not actual warning, I decided to go check the repotted and awaiting potting vegetables and herbs now enjoying full Spring sun. We had just had two days of ?rain? so I thought – until I looked at the eaves-catchers rain barrels and buckets – there well might be sufficient moisture on my precious comistibles-in-waiting. Drat! Dry.  Drooping herbs and collards – and I did not even need the first-knuckle finger test to know I had a problem, Houston. Or, rather, my plants so did.  The hose was by the buckets and barrels and, yup, they were unimproved by the scant rain of two days which delivered deluges on both sides of town but not to me.  I drowned those buckets and smaller pre-replanting containers and went to the last surviving big rosemary – which came though a three-quarter size die-off two years ago to regain in many ways its former three-foot height and five-foot circumference.  I should report with new well-worm-pooped soil, but that is fall’s chore, so I drown rose and mary regularly and have a portable screening set-up to discourage squirrels from bathing or digging and planting their own acorns inside.  Sunday I think it will be time to tackle the dead – and dying – side-leaves of the former Lemon Grass hedge, now deforested by give-aways to friends and neighbors: but I have replacements in readiness.  The dry and brown leaves will go into voluntary composting process, the better to host more nightcrawlers, along with coffee grounds begged from others – I drink maybe three cups of the stuff a year – eggshells and banana peels amongst the usual kitchen detritus. But I still keep a weather eye peeled for an Easter Surprise frost or freeze.  April, not March, is my cruel month.

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