I do not have a green thumb. When people give me plants as gifts, the plants weep. This is weird because farming is part of my DNA, ever since the first hunter/gatherers in my family line cleared the forests of ancient Europe all the way down to my father’s generation that grew up on a New England farm. However, my past attempts to grow anything have miserably failed.
A few days ago I discovered a neglected garlic bulb in my pantry. It had sprouted, much to my surprise, and I decided that it needed to be put in some soil. Any plant that can come to life in the darkness of my kitchen pantry deserves to live. So one thing led to another and I ended up getting out some garden pots and purchasing some potting soil. I also got some basil and tomato plants. I am going to see how well these do before I invest in any more seedlings. I do not have much sunny space in the backyard, so this is why the pots are gathered smack-square in the middle.
I am taking some encouragement from the abundant fruit on my orange and lemon trees, and I discovered some mint that had been planted decades ago is springing up between the trash bins and the water faucet. I’m just going to leave it alone.
I don’t intend for this to be a gardening blog. I just wanted to have a place to make some notes. Hopefully in a few weeks I can make a good report on some progress.
Note: The moon is a waxing gibbous, which, if I remember my herblore, is a good time for planting.