The Diggin’ Florida Dirt column in the Tampa Bay Times recently included the following tidbit:
Before they even think about furnishings, many of these new homeowners scout a spot for their vegetable gardens. I know this from personal experience and the National Gardening Association: Millennial gardeners shot up from 8 million in 2008 to 13 million last year.
A few weeks ago, I walked up to our house and noticed the plants looking especially lovely. It took me a moment to put my finger on what had changed, but then I figured it out: They were in a group!
Normally, I have all my pots in a straight line. But the landscapers in our townhomes must’ve moved everything when they trimmed the palm trees. When they put things back… voila!
A few months ago, a man on his way to visit my neighbor Stuart stopped in front of my house to admire my crown of thorns plant. Stuart later asked me if his friend could have a clipping to start his own bush. I told him to go for it.
Then to reciprocate, about a week later Stuart’s friend left some sort of potted succulent on my front lawn. I wasn’t crazy about the plant — it’s kinda ugly — but since it was a gift, I decided to let it stick around for awhile.
To my delight, a few weeks later, rosemary randomly started growing from the same pot. I love a good BOGO, so I decided the rosemary and its ugly half-brother could stay.
My current situation: I’m working from home, and it’s 2 p.m., and I haven’t showered today. I need to put clean sheets on Norah’s bed because, God bless her, she peed through her diaper last night. I also have two freelance stories and a hotel review due by 5.
At this point in my day, grocery shopping is out of the question. And I rarely order in. It’s just not my thing.
But a quick pantry and garden raid manifested this tasty meal:
Herb gardening can be an embarrassment of riches. I’m brainstorming ways to solve this “problem.”
1) Cocktails. My friend Autumn lives in Chicago, where you can do cool stuff like take a class on how to infuse cocktails. She gave me the CliffsNotes version, and it seems pretty doable. Infused alcohol would also make a classy gift.
Among the things I miss: free tickets to hipsterish NPR events, newsroom potluck throwdowns and recapping the latest Housewives episode with this unlikely devotee.
Also: I no longer have an excuse to swing by Worm’s Way organic gardening center.
Me: What’s in it?
Him: You don’t want to know.
My friend Adrian and his wife have a saying: “Life is short. Use the fancy soap.”
In other words, carpe diem. YOLO. However you want to put it.
I meant well.
Hubby was traveling for work, and there were a few hours until Norah’s bedtime. So in an effort to engage my daughter in my new gardening habit — and let’s face it: kill time — I let her paint an old terra cotta pot.
Normally, Norah hates getting her hands dirty. If there’s there’s the tiniest spec of yogurt on her fingers, she begs me for a napkin. When I wanted to make a handprint craft for my husband’s birthday, my friend Diana had to help me sedate Norah.
Well, I guess her neat freak phase is over, because when I gave her the paints, she went to town — first with a brush, then with her hands.