Greetings and salutations, everyone; yes, once again it is I, Chess the excellent purebred border collie, filling in for the guy I live with, and here to bring you the latest news from our garden. You may remember me from such white-colored posts as “Wright’s White” and “A Hint of Winter”, among so many, many others.
The guy I live with is “fiddling with seeds and stuff” and not much else is going on, why is why I’m lying out on the patio. There’s a rug out there, especially for me, and as you can see, I’m lying on it in the first picture. The concrete is pretty warm, too, though, and so I lie on it, sometimes, too.
Some of the gardening (the fiddling with stuff part) struck me as fairly pointless, but it happened anyway. I mean, the plant he transplanted itself wasn’t pointless,but you might understand why I say this was pointless when I tell you that this plant is actually dead. Why anyone would move dead plants around in the garden is beyond me, but he does it anyway.
“It might not be completely dead”, he said, as he moved this agave into the front yard.
Well, you see the color of the leaves, right? And that streak of liquid running down one of the leaves? Dead.
Now, it could be, because it sometimes is, that the inner leaves are still alive, because their color is right, and the guy I live with didn’t really feel like putting his hand in the agave to see if the leaves were soft (a sign that it’s dead), so that was the justification for moving the thing.
You can hardly see it here anyway.The agaves with the white spots on their leaves there were damaged by the sudden cold in November, but they’ll recover. The guy I live with, who supposedly knows everything, says they didn’t have a chance to get winter-hardy before that cold spell.
He saw this yesterday and got all super-excited for a couple of minutes.
And then of course there are the snowdrops. Some part of this picture is in focus; you can try to find it if you want to. You can also see the coiled seed pod of Cyclamen hederifolium here. Some self-sown snowdrops almost growing in the front yard.I guess that’s it. There would probably be a lot more to talk about if the guy I live with did more interesting stuff, but he rarely does.
Until next time, then.