Last month's false sighting of the color green in the hosta bed was such a disappointment that for the first half of March, I restricted myself to a once-a-week look at that part of the garden. That was no easy task when I was home for spring break and doing some yard work, but I handled the pressure. I didn't catch sight of the hosta bulbs pushing through the soil until March 20th. And since that happy day, I must admit that I've been out to check the bulbs nearly every day. From the first few tips of green shooting up many more soon arrived; reminders of just how lush and full this bed will be within the next month.
JT came outside with me to snap these pictures and announced, "I miss the big green plants that were here in the summer. Why did you take them away?"
So I explained that the tiny bulbs peaking out were on their way to becoming the lush plants he knows so well. He was intrigued and twice yesterday I saw him stroll by the bed and lean close to check things out for himself.
This is how the madness starts. Soon enough that kid will grow his very own green thumb.
JT came outside with me to snap these pictures and announced, "I miss the big green plants that were here in the summer. Why did you take them away?"
This is how the madness starts. Soon enough that kid will grow his very own green thumb.
2 comments:
I miss having hostas. Our house here has nothing but dirt and dog poo. The first sprig of hosta was always such an encouraging sight.
He has a better grasp of perennials than I do. If I had a flowerbed, I wouldn't plant them. It's unnatural - plants should die in the winter. Wait - except grass and trees.
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