Taking Root
In which: I attempt not to kill ten innocent plants
Last week I ordered ten hosta plants for the fall planting. They arrived two days later. They’ve been languishing in the dog shower ever since, because a) I was too busy to plant anything and b) there was no way I was going to dig holes in temperatures above 90F.
But this morning it is surprisingly, deliciously cool, the sun is shining, and I need to get the poor things into the ground before they’re dead. As I was opening the library window this morning, I looked down at the empty space tucked into the new walls, and saw my single, happy little hosta, which has been quietly delighting me for no particular reason I can identify. And suddenly, the plans I’d originally had for the ten guacamole hostas altered. I’m not putting those innocents down the hill to compete with the massive burdock plants that are attempting planet-wide conquest. These tender little beings belong outside my window in this quiet spot. I’m not sure there’s room for ten. Probably not. But there’s another space on the opposite side that will make a nice home for the others.
In an ideal world I’d figure out what variety the current occupant is and match it. But I have these ten homeless newcomers starving for soil and sun and rain. Matching is for handbags—and maybe not even for them—and anyway, my property is not particularly rule-bound.
Auggie has an appointment with the acupuncturist, which is helping him enormously. And I’ve promised myself to spend the afternoon writing, so my planting time is necessarily short. Best in the morning while it’s cool. There are a bunch of daylilies I’d like to move around, but I don’t have the mojo. Not today, anyway, even though I know that it’s best to do it while they’re blooming so I can see the colors and place them where they complement one another.
Maybe tomorrow. Today I need to think about a conversation during a portrait-sitting. Planting hostas should be good for that.
Happy Thursday!
”And all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”~Julian of Norwich
These posts are about finding the beauty in daily life, even amid the craziness, uncertainty, and anxiety. Reality is not going away, but these are the only days we get, so we have to relish their small beauties while we have them. If you are a paid subscriber, please know how deeply grateful I am for your support. The kindness and enthusiasm of your comments buoy me and keep me writing, but the paid subscriptions are an extra vote of confidence I truly appreciate. These posts will always be free, however, so if all you can do is share, that is helpful, too. Whatever you decide, I’m glad you’re here.
And now for your gratuitous dog photo:
Ah how i would to have your “mojo”. Between you and Joyce Vance with her chicken, dogs and cats I literally have a cathartic connection to the beauty you both describe. Living in the blast furnace called the SW. I’m struggling to keep my trees from being scorched by the ball of fire we call the sun. Trying to keep beautiful blooms alive during our scalding summers is as hard on this human as it is on my tender plants and trees. Alas I must enjoy them from afar.
Handsome Auggie! Happy to hear that the acupuncture is helping.