sitting here in the cool air of morning clacking away at the keyboard. sending out a missive into the world.
the birds delivered a geranium to my overgrown succulent pot. i wondered what it was, but yesterday i crushed an edge of the leaf between my fingers and sniffed. geranium!
corky, if you’re reading this…remember when you brought me the little zebra haworthia in a red pot? he’s grown!
the poor man’s orchids are resting their long stems across this neglected pot. sometime i should pull out all the oak leaves and spruce it up a bit. except.
i probably won’t. not today anyway.
i am a laissez faire gardener. plants fall and tumble where they choose. i just sit on the sidelines and watch them progress through winter spring summer fall.
yesterday i did take it upon myself to plant a copo de oro (solandra maxima) that i rooted from a cutting i got from lucy, sharron’s daughter, a couple of years ago. it came to me a scraggly stick and somehow it became robust and sprawling. when i pruned it last year i stuck one of the stems in water and forgot about it. after a couple of months it grew roots. after it sat neglected in the water for about 4 months i planted it in one of those throwaway nursery pots i had lying around. it sat in there for another 8 months or so. and yesterday i planted it.
i can’t wait to see how it takes to its new home. it’s next to the pergola in case it decides to sprawl.
while i was at it i pruned the peppermint scented geranium that’s responded well to my lack of attention. i put 4 stems in jars of water on the patio. i will start this elsewhere in the garden. this one came from a beach cottage in summerland i rented some years back. if i come for a visit you really should keep your eyes on me. i clip things.
while i’m at it…let me update my reading. i’m almost finished with this:
a sweet read. cute, but not earth shattering. everything doesn’t need to be though, does it?
i’ve started this and am enjoying rather a lot! from it, i found out about janet flanner who wrote for the new yorker magazine from paris for 50 years. yes, really. so now i’m terribly excited to dive more into her life when i’m finished. or, as things go with me, maybe before i’m done.
From the New Yorker
Her eye never became jaded, her ardor for what was new and alive never diminished, and her language remained restless. She was a stylist who devoted her style, bedazzling and heady in itself, to the subtle task of conveying the spirit of a subtle people…. She was an Indiana optimist perched in a small, cluttered room on the top floor of the Hôtel Continental in Paris, and when she looked down over her adored city she saw, even at the most unlikely moments, reason to hope.