This morning's crops. The nasturtiums have just begun to bloom - they are growing in the built-in wooden planters, with the beans. Neither will make the move with us. The three Alpine strawberry plants are in pots, and are portable. Two came up from self-sown seed, and one survived the last, hard winter.
Soon, I must cut down the three beans (scarlet runner, lablab and purple pole - about 10 plants), planted in May, so that I can take down the birch pole screen. The lablabs have not begun to bloom yet - their peak is from late August.
This snail vine, grown from seed my mom sent from her vine, was growing in the wooden planters but I transplanted it and its friends as soon as I heard we had lost our lease. No snail vine left behind.
The gloriosa lilies will have to be unplanted very carefully. Their tubers are about 10" long and breakable, and they are at their peak of bloom. Not a good time to disturb them.
The annual jewelweed (Impatiens capensis), which has just begun to flower, and planted to attract hummingbirds, as it did last year, will not move with us. I will cut it down, soon. It is very tall now - 4', and will move poorly: the pots are very big, so I may empty the soil for easier carrying.
The lilies that share space with the jewelweed will have to be planted temporarily in smaller pots, so that their leaves can continue to feed the bulbs for next year.
The cardinal vines grown from seed will only bloom in late September and I'd like to bring one or two, so I managed to untrain them and this Roguchi clematis from their wire screen over the skylight and re-train them onto a bamboo teepee in a pot. The cardinal vines were also planted for hummingbirds (maybe we should leave a forwarding GPS coordinate for them?).
News will come in sporadic bursts. I am not brimming over with warm, fuzzy feelings.
So sorry. So sad. The pain is real. But gardeners are foolish optimists. Too much rain or too little rain. Too many bugs. Weird fungi. It doesn't matter. We put our hands in the soil, usually without gloves, and plant the seeds every year. We can't stop ourselves and you won't stop either. This too will pass.
ReplyDeleteAnd, at least you know what to do and started right away rather than doing that ostrich thing. Last time we moved I fostered pots with a friend for nearly a year until I could dig beds for everything.. if the landlord isn't being a total BH maybe he would let you leave some pots for a few weeks. He will be the one benefitting from what's left in the planters.
ReplyDeleteI lost my home last year and it was incredibly anxiety inducing and painful beyond measure, I really feel for your situation. Sending you calming wishes, and I know you'll land someplace wonderful and will make it bloom.
ReplyDelete"And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.”
― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
Mutter, mutter...."bad landlord", mutter..... It doesn't seem like it now, but if good wishes count we will all wish you into a bigger better space!
ReplyDeleteThis is the second time an unethical landlord has taken advantage of your good-faith improvements to their property.
ReplyDeleteYour lovely blog with it`s luscious urban gardens has no doubt attracted unscrupulous renters who may have " BRIBED " the landlord to toss you out. all for the promise of higher paying clients.
No good deed goes unpunished. ( Sadly )
Thank you for the sympathy. However, if that were the case the LL could just have raised the rent, so I doubt that is what has happened in this case.
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