I’m writing to you from the small room where I have been locked up.
As you can see I still have laptop access so you might conclude that my guard is not very professional but really he does pretty well for a dog.
Like so many, I am innocent.
It was a case of seed catalogs becoming what is sometimes called an attractive nuisance. Still, just like in the song (“Was I drunk? Was he handsome? Did momma give me hell?”)–
I don’t regret a thing.
As I sift through the pile of envelopes from Territorial Seed I remember a lot of vegetable visions which were in my mind as I looked through the paper catalog and I do wonder if there wasn’t something, maybe in the ink…
WHAT WAS I THINKING?
I see I ordered special cucumbers to pickle–while I’ve never made pickles before in my life. And here’s something called Double Purple Orach. (What could that be?) And then there is a packet of quinoa. I do remember that one–pretty flowers and then seeds to eat. I met up with quinoa in a rice mix I bought once. (I wonder if I ordered rice seeds too…)
Isn’t this fun? And don’t I wish I had a crew of maybe seven gardeners on staff to help me?
Plus today the flower seeds also arrived from Mail Land, but FYI there are hardly any compared to the vegetable onslaught. They do include a packet of Verbena bonariensis, something I grew once before then removed due to the voices of plant fearmongers who insisted it would be rampantly invasive. Since then I’ve heard nothing but sweet praises for this tall purple verbena, which I see is also known by the cheerful name of Purple Top Vervain. (Note: I already grow regular ancient vervain, and it has kept my garden vampire-free for ages.)
In the interest of total clarity, which I sometimes sort of care about, I will add that I even ordered some fancy red organic seed potatoes to plant, which will arrive in early spring.
Now, if you are the type of gardener who still thinks it’s all about birdsong and sunshine and big baskets of lush vegetables well this might be a good time for you to go take your medication because potato growing is not like that– potato growing is one of those things that sounds cinchy and fun but is quite a lot more like complicated and hopeless.
Undaunted, this year I have committed (which is different than having been committed) to one more effort toward growing potatoes that are findable. (Note: UN-findable potatoes are what you get when NO potatoes are produced by the ungrateful wretched spiteful mean potato plants.)
Now, I do happen to accidentally know that potatoes will grow nicely in a compost heap.
You may ask, “How does she know this?”
While I am not willing to indulge this arguably perverse inclination among potatoes and I am most particularly not willing to give over my compost pile to Potato Fun for months on end, it has also come to my attention that potatoes are somewhat unquestioning sorts and, eyes or not, can be tricked with relative ease.
Their gullibility has suggested a solution, together with the fact that there exists, in my life, an alarming accumulation of enormous empty pots, formerly the homes of various of Mr O’s fruit trees. I envision the hugest of the pots filled with compost to become the new potato condo! (But don’t think I’m done with this. There is a whole bury-them-as-they-grow thing with potatoes and I’m not facing it without you.)
REALLY TREMENDOUS SELF-DISCIPLINE
As you likely know, I have a will of steel. Or maybe cashmere. In any case I resisted buying any of the mushroom growing kits when I ordered vegetable seeds. If you have had a fabulous experience with mushroom kits please let me know right away so I can email one more order before the funds get squandered on something boring like the power bill.
PS: If all your mushrooms died I don’t need to know.