"My green thumb came only as a result of the mistakes I made while learning to see things from the plant's point of view. " ~H. Fred Ale
I'm not much of a gardener. This will not come as a surprise to anyone who's read my blog for a while, but really, I do not possess a green thumb and have no great desire to develop one. I would much rather spend any free time I have reading or writing (or possibly drinking a good Merlot, but I digress...)
However, I'm happy to say that the vegetables we've started in containers on our front porch are actually growing. This is a feat in itself, as I'm always somewhat surprised to see seeds in dirt turn into green plants above the ground. Yesterday I was weeding (if you can believe it) and hubby came running across the driveway waving something in his hand. Thrilled, he produced two tiny green beans from one of our plants. Hooray! Actually, the lettuce is doing quite well too, and everything else seems to be growing and flowering. I'll take a picture and post it up here sometime.
The poor flowerbeds around the property aren't doing quite as well, though, mostly because it's been beastly hot and dry here, and also because most of the ground beneath us is slate and sand (a neighboring town is actually named "Slate Hill" - need I say more?). But they're doing OK. Except while I was weeding yesterday I found hoofprints in one bed. Yes, actual hoofprints, from the local deer. Yes, they're cute. Yes, I refuse to let hubby hunt them. Yes, I hate to see them hit along the side of the road. But they demolished my impatiens - demolished those and yet left the petunias completely alone.
Oh, well. Some things are still steadily growing, others are struggling, and others are thriving no matter what gets thrown at them (like the hostas...they're enormous...does anyone need any??)
Sort of like people, now that I think about it.