I grew up among flora and fauna. The place where my mother and aunts grew up (one uncle died as a teen, and the older boys finished growing up there) was my wonderful wonderland. I started growing up at that very same place, but my family bought a house on a lot down and across the alley, while retaining the former house, and then the old house burned down. I absolutely loved playing in "the old yard"; it was my refuge and a place of escape and escapades.
The old cement slab which was the front porch remained intact, and there I would pretend I was a singer, dancer, whatever I wanted to be that day, I became it on that old cement slab. I sat on that slab and watched the multitude of animals playing. For awhile, the cellar of the old house was still intact, and so my brothers and I would jump down into the cellar and climb back out using the rocks that formerly lined the cellar walls. I'd have little pic-nic tea-parties with my best friend, Jill. Many times I'd walk arm and arm with my beloved Grandmother; she'd talk to me about the old days and show me what my grandfather planted. He planted quite a lot, and obviously had a very green thumb, considering that he died at a young age of 44, and most of the things he planted were still around (some things are still there -- so a part of him remains). I can't begin to say the amount of days we played up in that old yard, but the times spent in that yard were the best times of my childhood.
My grandmother showed me a beautiful white rose and told me how, when my grandfather planted the rose bush that I so greatly admired, the roses were a deep red. We walked to the apple trees that my siblings and I so loved to climb; she told me how he not only planted the trees, but grafted in other types of apples onto the tree. I swear to you, there are no trees on this planet that even compare to the apples that I eagerly ate from that tree whilst growing up.
My grandmother was no slouch when it came to having a green thumb -- she could plant a garden and weed it like nobody's business. It's my understanding that she planted the numerous daffodils that emerged beautifully from the ground with bursts of gold to signal the beginning of spring every year.
My mother inherited that green thumb -- and I bet my aunts did, too. Every year we'd plant a garden. It was an amazing experience as Dad would get out the big old rotor-tiller; the raging sound was almost deafening to our ears, but we stayed to watch the dirt fly here and there. Then Mom would push the hand plow -- it had a huge metal wheel on the front, and closer to the back was the small till which dug the dirt into the rows into which we'd plant the seeds -- it was an antique, but was faithfully used every year until we stopped growing a garden together. We had house plants galore, and we spent much more time outside than we did inside. Anyone who knows me knows that my family had more than its share of problems, but looking at the times we spent growing things, it really could have been worse.
When we got this house, I was sure I would have that green thumb, too. I told my friend Marie yesterday while her sweet son was riding bikes with some of the children that I seriously think I have a brown thumb. Who knows, maybe I have a light khaki thumb. I've planted tulip and other bulbs -- the moles think they're candy. So, I basically keep planting daffodil bulbs, as the moles hate those. I planted blueberry bushes -- my husband thought they were weeds and cut them down, along with the white grapes I planted, the strawberries and some evergreen trees. My eldest boy killed my rose bush with a lawn mower and decided to hack away at my concord grapes because the vines got in his way. I think our first dog thought I was playing a demented form of "fetch, because, she'd watch me plant stuff just to dig it up. The next door neighbor wanted to thank us for doing his lawn while he was moving in, and so mistakenly weed-whacked some of my plants out front; we still love him because he and his wife are great people. I told him he officially belongs to my family now, because EVERYBODY loves to kill my plants!
This year, I decided to contact Michigan Bulb. I ordered all kinds of stuff to plant out front. You see, it was part of a deal that my husband struck up with me. Last year, a different neighbor moved in down the street and proceeded to yank out all kinds of wonderful plant-life -- in the middle of July. I asked both my husband and the new neighbor if I could try to rescue them. They both didn't care. Here's the deal -- I didn't realize that most plant-life will not survive transplanting if the roots of those plants have been sitting out in the hot end-of-July sun. Our front yard looked like something that "The Addams Family" would have treasured beyond belief. I'm sure everyone in the neighborhood had a hearty laugh at the lady faithfully watering the brownest bushes in the county. My husband begged me to allow him to yank them out. Then he said, "Honey -- if you allow me to yank them out, I'll let you order whatever you want from Michigan Bulb." That sealed the deal -- I yanked out every huge, dead bush that "adorned" the front yard, myself.
So in the spring I ordered a vast amount of plant life. I checked the front porch every day for my package, like a child awaiting a much anticipated Christmas gift. Eureka -- they arrived! They were awesome and delivered beautifully; I planted the items right away -- at least right after showing my cool neighbor lady with the solid green thumb. I KID YOU NOT -- only TWO days after this, a huge storm hit our area -- complete with high winds -- and blew one of my plants away. Michigan Bulb replaced it. A serious lack of rain hit the area. Michigan Bulb said they'll replace the rose bushes that up and died. Rabbits have attacked the bushes that survived the rain and the dry weather. Michigan Bulb has said just let them know which ones don't survive, and they'll help me.
The only thing which keeps driving me onward toward my elusive "green thumb status" is that most of the apple trees I've planted have not keeled over and died. However, just the other day, Michigan Bulb sent me a check to cover for some different items I bought because they don't have any more in stock -- hopefully they haven't given up on my green thumb dreams!
The old cement slab which was the front porch remained intact, and there I would pretend I was a singer, dancer, whatever I wanted to be that day, I became it on that old cement slab. I sat on that slab and watched the multitude of animals playing. For awhile, the cellar of the old house was still intact, and so my brothers and I would jump down into the cellar and climb back out using the rocks that formerly lined the cellar walls. I'd have little pic-nic tea-parties with my best friend, Jill. Many times I'd walk arm and arm with my beloved Grandmother; she'd talk to me about the old days and show me what my grandfather planted. He planted quite a lot, and obviously had a very green thumb, considering that he died at a young age of 44, and most of the things he planted were still around (some things are still there -- so a part of him remains). I can't begin to say the amount of days we played up in that old yard, but the times spent in that yard were the best times of my childhood.
My grandmother showed me a beautiful white rose and told me how, when my grandfather planted the rose bush that I so greatly admired, the roses were a deep red. We walked to the apple trees that my siblings and I so loved to climb; she told me how he not only planted the trees, but grafted in other types of apples onto the tree. I swear to you, there are no trees on this planet that even compare to the apples that I eagerly ate from that tree whilst growing up.
My grandmother was no slouch when it came to having a green thumb -- she could plant a garden and weed it like nobody's business. It's my understanding that she planted the numerous daffodils that emerged beautifully from the ground with bursts of gold to signal the beginning of spring every year.
My mother inherited that green thumb -- and I bet my aunts did, too. Every year we'd plant a garden. It was an amazing experience as Dad would get out the big old rotor-tiller; the raging sound was almost deafening to our ears, but we stayed to watch the dirt fly here and there. Then Mom would push the hand plow -- it had a huge metal wheel on the front, and closer to the back was the small till which dug the dirt into the rows into which we'd plant the seeds -- it was an antique, but was faithfully used every year until we stopped growing a garden together. We had house plants galore, and we spent much more time outside than we did inside. Anyone who knows me knows that my family had more than its share of problems, but looking at the times we spent growing things, it really could have been worse.
When we got this house, I was sure I would have that green thumb, too. I told my friend Marie yesterday while her sweet son was riding bikes with some of the children that I seriously think I have a brown thumb. Who knows, maybe I have a light khaki thumb. I've planted tulip and other bulbs -- the moles think they're candy. So, I basically keep planting daffodil bulbs, as the moles hate those. I planted blueberry bushes -- my husband thought they were weeds and cut them down, along with the white grapes I planted, the strawberries and some evergreen trees. My eldest boy killed my rose bush with a lawn mower and decided to hack away at my concord grapes because the vines got in his way. I think our first dog thought I was playing a demented form of "fetch, because, she'd watch me plant stuff just to dig it up. The next door neighbor wanted to thank us for doing his lawn while he was moving in, and so mistakenly weed-whacked some of my plants out front; we still love him because he and his wife are great people. I told him he officially belongs to my family now, because EVERYBODY loves to kill my plants!
This year, I decided to contact Michigan Bulb. I ordered all kinds of stuff to plant out front. You see, it was part of a deal that my husband struck up with me. Last year, a different neighbor moved in down the street and proceeded to yank out all kinds of wonderful plant-life -- in the middle of July. I asked both my husband and the new neighbor if I could try to rescue them. They both didn't care. Here's the deal -- I didn't realize that most plant-life will not survive transplanting if the roots of those plants have been sitting out in the hot end-of-July sun. Our front yard looked like something that "The Addams Family" would have treasured beyond belief. I'm sure everyone in the neighborhood had a hearty laugh at the lady faithfully watering the brownest bushes in the county. My husband begged me to allow him to yank them out. Then he said, "Honey -- if you allow me to yank them out, I'll let you order whatever you want from Michigan Bulb." That sealed the deal -- I yanked out every huge, dead bush that "adorned" the front yard, myself.
So in the spring I ordered a vast amount of plant life. I checked the front porch every day for my package, like a child awaiting a much anticipated Christmas gift. Eureka -- they arrived! They were awesome and delivered beautifully; I planted the items right away -- at least right after showing my cool neighbor lady with the solid green thumb. I KID YOU NOT -- only TWO days after this, a huge storm hit our area -- complete with high winds -- and blew one of my plants away. Michigan Bulb replaced it. A serious lack of rain hit the area. Michigan Bulb said they'll replace the rose bushes that up and died. Rabbits have attacked the bushes that survived the rain and the dry weather. Michigan Bulb has said just let them know which ones don't survive, and they'll help me.
The only thing which keeps driving me onward toward my elusive "green thumb status" is that most of the apple trees I've planted have not keeled over and died. However, just the other day, Michigan Bulb sent me a check to cover for some different items I bought because they don't have any more in stock -- hopefully they haven't given up on my green thumb dreams!
1 comment:
I have a browner thumb than you have, but if you look carefully, many of the nicest yards are cared for by people who have raised their children, worked at their careers, and at long last have a bit of leisure time to fill.
Don't knock yourself out. To everything, there is a season, and you are working hard in many different areas, with young children. It isn't your fault that your planting efforts are appreciated more by the local rodents than the volunteer help.
The time will come when you can fill your yard with flowers and fruit trees and growing plants. Delegating outdoor jobs will occasionaly mean that something you are nurturing gets the weed whacker treatment.
Don't give up. Michigan bulb sounds like a wonderful partner to your thumb greening project. In time, maybe your helpers will share your vision and it will bring your yard to blossoming glory.
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