Sometimes we end up in the wrong place.
A place where we do not fit.
A place that won’t allow us to grow.
When this happens, it’s best to realize it earlier rather than later.
Sometimes this “place” is a job or a town or a relationship.
Others see that your circumstances are not a good fit, but you stick it out.
Until the obvious cannot be ignored.
Do you know this tomato?
I know that everyone pulls these off their tomato plants and kills them.
I know they munch on the tomato leaves and poop on the plant.
That’s how I find them.
There is something that might make you pause before you murder one.
These big Tobacco Hornworm caterpillars (Manduca quinquemaculata)
turn into large Carolina Sphinx moths.
These moths come at sunset to my Four-o’clock flowers.
They are spectacular and magical. They are worth every leaf they eat.
Sometimes eggs of a parasitic wasp are laid on them. Ouch!
So be a good host to these giant, green munchers,
later you will be rewarded by flyers that look a lot like fairies.
I have told myself that I must keep going.
But I was wrong.
Going is not the problem.
I can still cook, weed and do laundry.
I can still clean and shop.
I can do anything I want to.
But I don’t want to.
This is not depression. I know it well.
This is despair.
My heart is not broken, it’s missing.
I am afraid of this non-feeling mode.
I do things, but I don’t feel things.
So now, instead of telling myself I must keep going
I am urging myself to keep caring.
I usually care too much.
Now I am numb.
Of all my posts about all my plants, who knew Climbing Okra would be the biggest hit?
Maybe it is that I offered seeds to my readers. (No more requests please.)
I am two years behind on my list for Luffa acutangula seeds.
Last year’s pods were feasted on by a tiny mouse.
I found it with its bottom sticking out of my largest pod.
I had to start two different sets of seeds this spring.
I planted the seedlings in three different locations.
I finally have a few pods big enough to eat.
No worries John P, Kevin K , Alley and Susan E , these first fruits will be saved for seed.
(You four can email your address to firstname.lastname@example.org. Nobody else please.)
I will let these pods get about a foot long, take them in to dry, then separate the seeds.
I will mail these out in October. No swaps or payments needed. I like to share.
All these gorgeous flowers in my garden and my most sought after plant is a luffa!
( I may post about the ants later. I must do more research first.)
I found this unusual, little plant at our favorite local greenhouse.
It looked like a potato but the tag said Ground Cherry ‘Goldie’.
I put it in a big pot near the entrance to keep an eye on it.
What a perfect spot for the source of my favorite snack.
This plant is a Physalis relative of Chinese Lanterns/Jack-o-LGround antern plant.
Its little yellow pods contain a juicy sweet berry.
The taste is like pineapple.
It has been dropping dozens of yummy fruits each day for weeks.
I read that it may reseed.
I hope so.
I purchased pairs of plastic chairs for my parents and in-laws.
Now that folks have to visit outside, they needed more seating for guests.
I kept two in my own carport. I call mine the “Spy Chair.”
I do not usually do much sitting around during gardening season.
Since my father’s sickness and death, it seems all I do is sit.
I look at all the things that need doing without feeling the need to interfere. (Sorry Moss)
I call out to my neighbors from behind the vines.
I drink my coffee in it each morning. I sip sangria while spying in the evenings.
I do not get involved in what goes on.
I only spy and sometimes cry.
I look out at my little world with detachment.
I do not know when I will rejoin the action.
For now, I will quietly spy as the world goes on by
without me… and without my daddy.
It is all I can do.
I found a surprise while watering my potted plants yesterday.
I had not noticed the bud on my Epiphyllum oxypetalum before.
I usually notice every change in my garden.
Right now I am too busy. My precious father is dying.
I go to the hospital alone to take the first shift. Only one visitor at a time due to Covid.
So I am very blessed to happen to notice the bud ready to bloom.
I set my alarm clock to wake me near midnight.
I slipped outside with my flashlight to sit alone with my flower.
This was its first bloom after many years of growth.
I was amazed at its complexity.
Its pistil had a shaggy end.
Its anthers glowed in the light.
It was the whitest white I have ever seen.
I sat there in silence thinking that if an angel were a flower, it would look just like this.
It would come to me in the still, cool darkness and give my heart a moment of peace.
This flower may be named “Queen of The Night”, but it was my angel.
An orange Glad with purple pollen.
Am I dreaming?