Friday, February 26, 2010


MAYBE SOME DECORATIVE GOURDS


Each year at around this time I start experiencing fantasies that have to do with vegetables - no not like that, get your mind out of there - more like maybe I'll grow some yellow crooknecks this year and order some wax bean seeds, put in some zucchini, some acorn squash and of course a few butternuts, some corn too yes a couple rows of corn, to say nothing of tomatoes and cucumbers and what would really be good would be some of those wait a minute Bob you're getting vegedelerious, get a grip, how many fingers am I holding up, let's not get carried away here you don't have the entire mountainside to plant, it's just a few dozen square meters you got out there, with already spinach and chard in the ground, onions and garlic, turnips as well, and Japanese veggies, get hold of yourself put down that catalog, those catalogs too, and those-- Walk around don't run, take some deep breaths and don't forget there are bugs and monkeys you're supporting out there and -- I don't know who's doing the talking, some inner therapist who's always hanging around trying to keep me on some ridiculously rational path and sure enough, the commonly agreed reality slowly creeps back into my seed-filled brain, I shake my head it seems to rattle like a decorative gourd, I rub my eyes to clear my vision; I look at the calendar and sure enough it's right about the same time as it was last year when this happened, same point every time, just on the cusp of Spring, same sort of thing used to happen when I was a kid, I'd get kind of a groggy fever of unspecified desire that would clarify in those younger, suitably objectiveless years into marbles or yoyos, and since I was regularly fed by others I could care less about things like seeds and planting and growing stuff you could buy right now but instead wait MONTHS for, are you kidding me, and flowers? no way, what would the guys think, you crazy? That was how it was back then, but Spring ever has that effect on the mind and this year now that I'm at the promontory of life with these delightfully chronic views I'll settle for my usual garden stuff plus a little something new, though in addition I think I'll maybe I'll plant some of these and these... sorry can't chat anymore gotta order some seeds now where did I put all those catalogs...

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Here in London the rules are simple - only grow it if you will eat it - and can protect it from the squirrels (nearly as evil as monkeys!)

Wembley

Tabor said...

Those catalogs get us every time! I am the flower person and keep trying to see how the plant actually looks without that macro lens they use.

Kalei's Best Friend said...

There is something about growing a plant from seed... Call me crazy but its like being pregnant....am I right? going thru the process, waiting daily, feeling and seeing the changes..

Anonymous said...

The Burpee Seed Catalog arrived three weeks ago. Everything went on hold.

Plastic soda bottles saved all winter are now being cut in half, holes punched in the bottoms for drainage, caps left on the tops, soon to be mini greenhouses for seeds. Parsley is in flats in bathroom # 2, in the full bath which is no longer avail for long soaks. Bag of potting soil bought at the end of last season dragged off the - now snow covered - front porch.....

We have four inches of new snow since last eve, and it continues.

And soooo... you reminded me I had gourds I dried three years ago, it takes a year so technically they are only two years waiting... Dremel, found it. Soon I will have new little mini hanging planters for the southern mansion style porch... to hang in the snow...

Joni

Mage said...

Here my black thumbs mourn the loss of their greenness. Oh, do plant zucchini and acorn squash just so we can read about them. Thank you.

Mary Lou said...

I spent all afternoon with those catalogs, and CNN! You need to post pictures of your monkeys. And your garden!

bob said...

I can relate. Lucky for me the Burpee folks don't send out their catalog until it's already too late to start tomatoes and peppers.

However, I must confess that the expensive, hot and enormous indoor lighting system used last year to baby an insanely large number of plumeria toddlers has this year been put into full force focusing on a mere 36 tomato seeds mostly saved from last year. Which is about 18 more plants than I'll have room for.