The Vicks plant in the green dish, I nearly killed twice leaving it past frost last year, then putting it out too soon this year, saving only a remnant, which obligingly started putting roots into water. I forgot one day to check and it was dry. Oh. Nothing daunted, it's started new roots, so I've rehoused her in a pot, next to her friends. And I started an apple pit thing in another pot. A couple of dried cores buried in the pot and a few pits scattered on top. We'll see. After dinner gardening. The third pot above has no occupants yet.
Then through the window I noticed a cheerful little blossom struggling up outside through the iris and daylily and pachysandra and vetch and scarlet pimpernel and Montauk daisies and thyme and sedum and Thai basil and lavender and whatever they call that pretty ground creeper that gets yellow flowers.
It's the scrawny little azalea I rescued from across the street when my friends moved out, and before their tenants moved in. Along with a clump of yellow daisy-like Fall flowers, which I don't like, bitter yellow color, bad taste in my mouth, but the goldfinches love it, so it stays.
Finally, the little azalea is getting going, despite its crowded situation. I've been tossing spent tea-leaves, organic, says she virtuously, around it, in hopes, for a couple of years. Adding acid, they love acid. My rescued rose on the patio, likewise. If I had a holly, I'd include it. They all like additional acid. I'll leave the azalea alone, since she seems to know what she's doing.
I only took a bit of the plant material from across the street, politely leaving plenty for the incoming tenants, though I'd been invited to help myself. It was a waste of honesty, though, since the first thing the new people did was tear out every living thing, leaving a wasteland in front of the house. Scorched earth policy. I guess they prefer mud.
So it's good I transplanted what I did. I'm at the other end of the spectrum, my tiny area crowded like a permanent rush hour. The amphibians and worms and birds and bees of all kinds, and praying mantis, love it, so I'm not arguing. And there's no room for weeds.
A certain amount depends on your definition of weeds, of course.
I'm pretty sure if I suddenly found purple loosestrife or phragmites grass out there, I'd yank them out sharpish, they being the Al Capones of the plant world. But other than that, not so much. Since we have cold winters, plants like bindweed die off annually, so they're not the infernal pests they are in other states.
This is big talk from someone who just potted two four inch pots, no?
