Welcome to my garden!
It’s one of my favorite things to do. It’s one of my favorite places to be.
I stare at it, like a man might stare at a woman with large boobs, in wonder and amazement.
Each of my plants is like a child to me.
I grew it. I nurtured it. I’ve kept it alive. Some of them as long as I’ve had my house. Which has only been 6 years, but 6 years is a long time for keeping a plant alive. For me anyway.
I’ve killed many a plant. Saddened by my failure, I feel ashamed when I have to throw one of my plants away. Brown, frozen to death, and/or over watered. I have failed multiple times.
But now, in Spring, is when all the successors come to life! My self-esteem renewed by the survivors!
A beautiful flower as it starts to bloom.
Unless, of course, it is charred by the blazing Arizona sun.
Or as it grows out. It seems to resemble a decrepit thing that no one wants to have in a vase (here, pronounced “Vauze”) placed beautifully upon their entryway hutch to show off.
I don’t know what happened to these Daisies.
Actually, I do.
I almost killed them. I don’t know how or why. After I received this plant as a gift, I kept them indoors and watered them during the cold Winter, but they died.
After the last of the dead petals fell off, I cut the stems down to the soil and continued watering them. I re-potted them and took care of them as if they were still alive.
Apparently, under the soil, the roots enjoyed the care. When Spring sprung, they started to grown again.
The flowers look funky, I know. I think because I had them in a place where they got too much sun. So I moved them to this shady spot. We’ll have to wait and see if the new blooms appreciate the move.
The Wandering Jew plant
Don’t judge me, it’s the name of the plant. I swear!
It has beautiful, tiny flowers, and it will grow rampant if you keep it watered.
I have to trim it back regularly, because it’s a rebel and does what it wants, growing over its neighbors.
It’s very fragile, breaking at the stem with the slightest of tugs. Yet, foolishly, I still use my garden shears to prune it back, thinking I’m causing it less pain…
Some sort of Aloe Vera
My mother gave me a small Aloe Vera plant a year to two ago. Now I have 4.
You can see one here, being smothered by that damn Wandering Jew (no offense, I didn’t choose the name!)
But the purple and green look so pretty together, don’t you think?
These are the “flowers” of the mature Aloe my mother gave me.
They grow on thick stalks, that once the flowers die off, looks very ugly.
I use my shears to cut them back once the flowers are dead. I’m sure the stalks would dry out and fall off on their own, but I can’t wait that long.
I can’t have ugly in my garden.
Some sort of Succulent. Name: ???
This plant is weird looking, Don’t you think? That’s what I like about it.
What I don’t like about this kooky plant is how fragile it is.
Much like the Wandering Jew, the “leaves” break off very easily.
You can see the bruised “leaves” towards the bottom where we have brushed against them as we walk the length of our porch, where it lives.
The fresh “leaves” are soft, almost furry. Weird, in a good way.
Another Succulent. Name, unknown.
Succulents are easy to grown, hence my love of them.
They also grow rampantly! Spurting out little baby Succulents along its stem. I feel the need to replant the babies. They are my babies and I need to grow them!
You can just pluck them off and stick them in dirt. As long as you water them, they will grow.
A Palm. Maybe a Fan Palm?
I have no idea if that’s its name. It does look like a fan, so maybe I’m right.
There are many Palm trees up and down my neighborhood and the block behind my house.
I hate palms. They are difficult to take care of, especially when they grow to 500ft tall.
But they are cute little babies.
The palms down the road and behind my house spray their seeds all over the place, where they are then blown into my yard, letting little baby Palms grow wherever they please and typically where I don’t want them, which is anywhere.
I only plant them in pots. When they outgrow the pot, I then have to figure out if I have a bigger pot to put them in or find someone I can adopt them out to. Since I have grown them, I must take care of them.
I grew one to a good enough size, maybe 3ft tall, in a pot once. My first Palm.
My mother had a Palm tree in the corner of her yard that had died a few years ago, so I offered her the one I had grown. I had other little baby Palms that I had just plucked from places I didn’t want baby Palms to grow, so I could re-home the big one and start on the new ones.
I planted my 3yr old Palm where hers had died. And she promptly killed it!
But, no worries! I have many more. If she wishes to renew our relationship, she will take better care of the next one I give to her.
Gardens have Bees.
These Bees came to our tree a few days ago.
I may call a bee man to come and remove them soon, so I don’t die of a bee attack while watering my garden.
But Bees are so cool! I love to watch them while they collect pollen. Working endlessly to feed their family.
Worker Bees are female, you know. The hardest working of the group, in case you were unaware of that fact.
This is my Cotton plant.
I LOVE my Cotton plant. (I just now realized my finger is in that lower middle picture…)
With the growth of this plant, a neglected Cotton bloom that I found on the side of the road next to a crop that had been harvested and then plowed to the ground, I became a Farmer.
Starting out as these Fly Trap-like buds
I never knew that Cotton could have such a beautiful flower.
Making a cream-ish colored bloom (sorry, blurry)
That turns in to a beautiful light yellow flower.
That then turns purple (sorry, this ones blurry too) before the bloom dies off and the Cotton “boll” starts to grow.
This is a new “boll”, that when it grows to maturity will turn huge and ugly. It has to dry out and die, before the Cotton bursts out!
Then BLAM! You’re now a farmer.
There’s Cotton seeds in all 4 little compartments that houses the little cotton blooms.
It’s all very interesting. At least to a farmer, like myself.
There is also nature in a garden, and I love capturing their presence. Unless it’s those damn aphids or other plant killing bugs.
Spiders are good for the garden. Getting rid of pests you don’t want.
This one jumped on me after I took it’s picture.
Spiders are not good for me. No, I do not enjoy them jumping on me. At all.
Wasps are also part of a garden.
These mean little buggers help to pollinate as well, but I would prefer the much calmer bee pollinating my plants.
I don’t know what they do, but they’re pretty cool to watch. I had to move this snail, and another like it, off the main path of my porch so they wouldn’t get stepped on. I placed them both back in my garden, so I hope they’re not bad for my plants…. Maybe I should Google that now.
Oak tree saplings.
These little plants have a history. I’m quite proud of them.
A friend of mine ordered some Oak acorns off Amazon with the hope of getting them to grow. Obviously, right? Why else would you pay for acorns?
He planted each of the 20 acorns into their own individual “pots”, or Red Solo cups. He had zero luck with getting them to sprout, so he gave them to me, giving up.
After about 3 or 4 months of me watering them and saying encouraging words to them, they still had not sprouted. I too gave up.
I dumped the soil and the acorns in with my other potted plants, not wanting to waste the soil. I also wanted to see if they would eventually grow.
This Winter it actually snowed, where I live, in Tucson, Arizona.
This is a rare occasion for us out here in the desert of the Old West. Come to find out, via the Google, it may have been a vital part to the sprouting of the baby Oaks.
First, one baby oak sproutling! I found these poking out of another one of my plant’s pot one day while watering.
Then 3 baby Oak Sproutlings!
I told my friend that my Oak trees were growing, I was so excited!
He now wants his (my) Oak trees back…
I will probably give him my trees back, since I have no need or space for 3 Oak trees. It will probably be a very hard day, since I will need to nurture these babies until they’re big and old enough to (hopefully) survive my friend’s very brown thumb.
You’ve just been on a tour of my happy place.
It surprises me every time I see one of my plants grow from a seed into a real plant, or watch a dull plant make beautiful blooms. When one of my plants dies, but then suddenly comes to life, I feel like I’ve done somethings amazing. Even when a plant I’ve had for years, suddenly dies for no apparent reason (like my Lemon Thyme), it amazes me how fragile they can be.
I feel like I have truly accomplished an amazing feat; being able to give birth to, and raise, children that are now 5 and 14.
Planting seeds and having them live for over 6 years now (except the ones ‘veI killed) just brings me so much of the same pleasure and sense of accomplishment as raising human children.
Nothing brings me more joy (except my children, my animals, and my home) than my garden.
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