Jumping in, after cleaning the basement, guestroom and planting some flowers! I need a break! I smell terrible. The basement cleaning was like the Running of the Spiders.
I went to the gardening store to grab some “wedding flowers” aka “excuse for buying too many flowers that will come back next year so whateva.” Flower hoarding, you betcha.
just to let you know, i fixed this. all by myself. no more dowel rod/flag thing for me!
I spent entirely way too much money, but hey, they should all come back next year, so let’s check out that haul!
My plan, and I use that term ridiculously loosely, is to use these as decoration, plus my houseplant hoard in the tent and outside. So everybody has to be in a pot, so I can move them around. After the wedding, I plan to plant the hydrangeas in dirt. Like a real plant. Special plans for the clematis too!
After chasing Mr. Humphrey, the chipmunk, out of the garage (REALLY? IS THIS THE WILD KINGDOM HERE?) I got to work.
I’m going to keep them in the shade today, and tomorrow sneak in some full sun. In my opinion, it is generally a good practice after stressing everyone out with replanting to give them a break in the shade. Hopefully, they’ll grow tremendously in seven days, 2 hours and 21 or so odd minutes. Now, about the clematis…
When I was a little girl, my grandmother had a HUGE clematis. Somewhere in the recently acquired pile of pictures in the basement, I have a photo of both my grandparents, Virgil Herbert and June Dorothy standing under a trellis, with the clematis blooming. It’s one of the good pictures, before their health started to decline. I did make a feeble attempt to find it, but alas, it’s still somewhere in that monster pile. Saving that for a winter job.
As I mentioned my fellow plant hoarderess, in this post, I neglected to mention that she had a clematis. Only because I couldn’t freaking remember the name of the plant. So that’s what spurred me. I saw it, beautiful and just like my grandmother’s only much smaller, on her deck. It rang a bunch of nostalgia bells in my head and I knew I had to find one. Her mother bought it for her and the tag was off, so no help there, unfortunately. Google wasn’t much better. I knew they weren’t rare or anything, so I made sure to keep my eyes open today. As you can see, success! Found one! Not the same gorgeous purple as my grandmother’s, but perfectly beautiful and a lovely reminder of her.
Also, there is another reason for such sneakiness. I am stupid independent. My dear wonderful dude I plan to marry in a short period of time is away for the weekend. Now, I had mentioned the clematis, briefly, and was kicking ideas around of where to put it with him. Alas, we have no trellis. So I knew I was going to have to redneck rig something up. Hell, naw, I ain’t paying for a damn trellis to grow weeds on! So, uh, now that it’s planted, he’ll be thrilled with my ambitious red neck rig job. Right?
- Wander yard/house/basement for free stuff.
- Do not care what it looks like, only if it works.
- Be prepared to fail, maybe, or succeed ridiculously.
- Cost, zero dollars.
- WARNING: Others, who are not rednecks, often do not understand. Only work by yourself or other rednecks.
- WARNING: Have beer in hand. Important to the thought process.
Firstly, I attempted to line up some tree branches we had cut down. Nope. Then I attempted to use yarn along the fence. Nope. Then I remembered the garden gate, which we had abandoned in favor of putting chicken wire around the whole thing. Ha! That’ll work! Ain’t the prettiest girl at the party, but she’ll work!
I can see it from our living room window and I am very, very happy about it. If it’s deemed too close to the fence or what not, I can take the “trellis” and the plant and move it fairly easily. I’ll probably come up with something better in the future, but this works. Now I have to hose it down, super water it. A must whenever planting.
So I hop over to the hose and suddenly I realize I am being watched. By this abominable creature:
Ugh. Baby bunnies. Good Lord, they are trouble. Nature mercifully made bunnies so that fear kills them before pain. Which means NO TOUCHING. Guys? NO TOUCHING.
Unfortunately he was directly where I intended to stand and water, the plant is over on the other side of the fence and the hose reached from this vantage. Oh, baby bunnies.
My greyhound found a whole fleet of them in a window well once. After sticking her in the house, I put on some kitchen gloves and very, very gently but quickly, chucked them out. Then the proceeded to hop directly back in. UGHHHHHHHHHHH. So then I got wise, chucked them a wee bit farther and waved my arms about my head like a whacky waving inflatable tube man…
…and they all scattered into the bushes. Phew.
And this little guy, wasn’t budging. I assumed if I got close enough, he’d hop off. Nope. Ugh. I poked him with a stick. I didn’t want to be there standing with a hose, freaking him out for like 10 minutes. Nope. No dice. He wasn’t having it. I poked him a bit harder and looked at his eyes to make sure he wasn’t sick. Not sick, just a turd. Eyes clear, butt fat. Okay, then little dude. Don’t freak out. Carefully I threw the hose over the fence, went around the entire house, and watered the clematis. Ugh. I’m sure his momma and his nest are close by, so no worries, guys. He was pretty fat and bright looking.
So, we’ll see how the flowers do! Hopefully they’ll be huge for the wedding! I think I’ve been on break long enough! Back to work with me!