Day’s Verse:
You lazy fool, look at an ant.
Watch it closely; let it teach you a thing or two.
Nobody has to tell it what to do.

Proverbs 6:6-ish

Yesterday, another dry but slightly more overcast day, I planted 15 new strawberry plants as a ground cover for the edge of the rain garden. That accounts for a little more than half of the area needed to be covered. I figured we might as well plant something delicious, since we have to put something in. Hopefully that doesn’t backfire and cover our yard in strawberries… but I figure, there are worse things to have take over your yard. I also have some strawberries in a raised bed, and now I’m kind of wishing I’d put something else there. Maybe I should do some other food, like lettuces or something, along the remaining length of the rain garden. Hmm.

I also took some steps to revive the camellia we transplanted into the front yard last summer. It’s got lots of flower buds, but ever since we planted it, the leaves have slowly been turning yellower. I thought perhaps it was shocked by the transplanting, so I waited over the winter to see if it improved; nope. So I’m trying fertilizer and compost, per the expert Molbak’s advice. I don’t want it to die, because the flowers are pretty — a simple reason, I guess, but generally I’m bad with plants, and I rarely make an effort to rescue sick plants. It’s saying a lot that I put in any effort for this one.

And, in our final plant-related news, the rain garden plants have started sprouting. I have to admit, it feels miraculous to me. We got them in late December as mere twigs — twigs in lots of dirt. Nary a spot of leafiness, even last season’s leaves still hanging on. But with hope, I planted them very carefully, according to rain garden-planting directions I have. The sedges started showing new growth first, but now almost everything (except the ferns, which I expect to die) have started showing small new leaves. I mean, yes, they still look like twigs, but they’re clearly living twigs, with the potential to become a lovely natural green space in suburbia. Of course, I still need to keep them alive through the summer.

Despite the fact that I’m not good at gardening and have minimal interest in yard work (with the result that our yard looks mediocre at best), I still continue to try to improve it incrementally. Maybe in another 10 or 15 years we’ll have something I genuinely like to see when I look out the window.

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