All Tucked In

It’s the middle of March and my flowers are blooming.  Citrus trees are days away from the blossoms opening and releasing that magical fragrance.  The date for the last frost of the year was last month.

What did I do tonight? Blanket.  Blanket horses.  Blanket roses.  Threw towels over passion fruit vines and   sky flower and more roses.  Grabbed sheets from the linen closet and wrapped them around kumquat (always juvenile fun to say KUM-quat!) and mandarin and fig and guava.  When I ran out of sheets I used pillowcases.  The neighbors will have the chance to judge my taste in housewares when the sun rises.

I’m an idiot.  Normal people would stick a few agave and lantana in some gravel and go back inside to drink and enjoy life.  I feel compelled to coddle plants that don’t belong in the desert.  Bananas, for example.  One is sitting inside in the hallway, joining a gang of plants hunkered down enjoying central heating because I didn’t trust it not to die outside.  Once- one miracle summer several years ago, I managed to get a hand of bananas to form.  Real bananas.  I came outside only to find that a yard service that I hired to help me get the house ready to sell had removed the banana stalk.   

I was pissed and I’ve not had success again yet.  Last winter we had record cold and I lost all my banana plants.  I should know better than to try again, but I thought…more sun, more fertilizer, more water…a better location for the pot…who knows but maybe…

Plus, family is visiting tomorrow and seeing the house for the first time and I don’t want them trooping through and saying, My, what a brown, wilted yard you have here!  Not that they would- two are condo dwellers whose dealings with plants tend to be limited to bagged salad greens- but it would be nice if they don’t come away thinking I steer the the SS Crapship.  

Tomorrow, unblanketing plants, unblanketing the aged and the thin (poor horses).  A chicken in every crockpot by noon, I promise.  Not that my family will eat any of it- those three survive on cookies, diet soda and People magazine, which they will consume in the privacy of their hotel room.  But roasting chicken will take the fart smell out of the house- we’ve been most amused since the corned beef and cabbage dinner on St. Patrick’s Day but guests are coming and We Have Standards.




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