It’s June 2nd, 2025 and we are nearly half way through our gap year. This is the year we are supposed to decide our next steps.
I’ve been thinking about it for a while and it’s time to just do it. I mean, I’ve created the perfect writing space in my garden so I may as well just go ahead and write some blogs.
As I’m writing, it’s 4 pm, the sun is low and preparing for it’s deep dive towards the horizon. The birds are singing, they’re calm, relaxed…just calling out to friends. A rooster crows across the street and no, they don’t seem to care what time it is when they crow; they just do it whenever the mood strikes.
I’m gazing at the petunia that I planted from seed that now is now bursting with deep fuchsia blooms. I beam like the proud plant parent that I am. I did that. I tended to her, I told her how proud I was of her and she’s blossomed. Across the patio is another shy, but beautiful petunia, blazing in all of her glory with her single red bloom. I literally told her one day that she was falling behind and that she could do better….and the next day she bloomed!
Coincidence? Eh maybe…but I’m still very proud of this one too.
Mom and I have a constant…constant disagreement about whether plants should be in pots or in the ground. I think one should consider what is best for the plant. Mom, on the other hand, insists that everything needs to be in the ground and needs water…water and more water!
I’ve made it so that she has certain plots that she is responsible for…and I steer her clear of my precious petunias. I’ve explained to her that some plants do better with a bit less water, but she thinks I am absolutely crazy and that I shouldn’t listen to those internet people.
Her refrain is often “be sure to put some water on it, give it a good soak”
(I am dreading the coming water bill…I rather turned her loose on watering detail for a couple of days this past month. It kept her busy.)
The other day she forgot that I was standing there when she looked at my flower pots and said “I’ll just have Paul (the handyman) dig a hole and put these in the ground”
I was aghast! I couldn’t help it …my blood pressure shot straight up!
I took a deep deep breath and said…as calmly as I could…
“Please don’t do that. I’ve raised these plants from seed”
She looked up, seemingly surprised that I had heard her. She gave her patented “mom shrug” and a grunt. I took this for acquiescence.
I made a mental note to text Paul and ask him not to transplant anything in pots.
