I love getting my hands into the dirt and working with God to make beauty come out of small seeds and transplants. I share the experiences of an ordinary gardener with photos and words.
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Saturday, April 29, 2006
Securing My Borders
All I was going to do today was plant one Easter lily, and water. I planted the lily quite easily in a few minutes and pulled all new weeds I could find in that bed by the pumphouse wall. And then I thought I'd better mark the borders of the spot of land on the slope where I'm planting a wildflower / herb garden. And, of course, I wanted to pull any new weeds appearing in that bit of ground. Marking the borders is important because my weed abatement man, John, will probably spray again after the rain stops for a few days. You wouldn't believe how high the old crop of thorns is growing, and now the rains have started another bunch of seedlings. John thinks that herbs and wildflowers are weeds. So I decided to put a rock border around anything out in the open he might be tempted to spray, since anything green is fair game to him.
Among today's discoveries were one sprouted borage seed I'd about given up on, some unfriendly looking worms I threw a long distance from what I was planting, and a few insects in pupa form whose identities I don't know, but I flung them away as well. I decided to let a few weeds be flowers, since their small purple blooms are attractive, the leaves are frilly, and the plants keep the soil from eroding while they crowd out other weeds. The help cover the ground while I'm waiting for seeds to sprout and grow up.
I started my work in the garden about 3PM, intending to stay long enough for my half-hour's exercise. But one thing led to another. My neighbor came out and wanted to talk, and she couldn't follow me around because she was only wearing socks. One weed pulled seemed to reveal more to pull. And I couldn't stop. I also decided to expand the border I had orginally planned to mark. Then, of course, I had to collect the rocks, which are quite plentiful, and use them to mark the bed's border. Between all the digging, weeding and rock hunting I got a bit tired. But while I was hunting rocks I came across a hearty-looking poppy plant way outside the boundaries among the thorns and mustard plants. It looked lonely and it seemed a shame to leave it there for John to spray, so I dug it up and planted it within the boundaries I had marked. What surprised me was the root. I've never much noticed poppy roots before, but this one was entirely smooth -- no little hair-like roots were shooting out of it as they do from a carrot. It was more like a golf tee. I'm hoping the poppy will live, but maybe they only can stay where originally planted. I thought I'd try because I saw poppies at the nursery in six-packs and deduced they must be transplantable. I'll find out soon. The weather was perfect for transplanting -- overcast and rather cold. I finally finished my work, watered everything in, and put away the tools. When I went in I couldn't believe it was already after six.
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