Let’s wander, till the fuckers demand an encore
Longtime denizens of this blog may remember the supermarket seed promotion thingy a couple of years back, with the magical compressed soil, which gave me one vigorous viola plant and a couple of leggy vegetables which subsequently fell over and died. Not so the viola, which grew happy faces madly all that year, and died back that winter only to sprout again the following year in a couple of self-seeded plants in not only the original pot, but a couple of adjacent ones.
This was, it transpires, merely the advance guard. This year the three or four plants from last season clearly self-seeded again, and with somewhat promiscuous enthusiasm, as the small velvet-faced army has reached every corner of the courtyard.
This exuberant audience (I'm thinking the stands at a sports event with no social distancing at all) is growing in the strawberry planter, having seized the opportunity left by evil snail cohorts eating the strawberries to the ground. Not pictured: the actual mint plant the violas have actually choked out of existence, what the hell. Usually mint needs napalm to discourage it.
There used to be a chilli bush in there, but it succumbed to seasonal depression after two years of resurgence, and I haven't found a replacement yet. (COVID is making for some really odd gaps in the local nursery's offerings).
There are stunted, miniaturised violas springing up at the edges of the thrice-damned astroturf and in the cracks in the brickwork all over the courtyard. Occasionally I accidentally weed them and remorsefully stick them into soil elsewhere, whereupon they cheerfully grow Much Bigger, with almost audible squeals of vegetative glee. There's a small scouting party at the base of the lemon tree now, and I can see it eying the pomegranate.
This is the result of clipping the blossoms before ripping the plants out of the pots where the flame lily and arums are trying desperately to Sprout for Spring amid thickets of the Viola Empire. It would have felt more brutal and cruel except that there are So Many Violas elsewhere in the garden, and the resulting vase is rather lovely.
In a spirit of emulation, I have denuded several volunteer poppies in the road outside of their mature seedheads, and scattered them all over the courtyard. Next spring will be all-out war. In a good way.
(My subject line is still Amazing Devil, because hyperfixation).
This entry has been crossposted from my Dreamwidth blog at https://freckles-and-doubt.dreamwidth.org/. The comment action is all over there, and supports OpenID.
This was, it transpires, merely the advance guard. This year the three or four plants from last season clearly self-seeded again, and with somewhat promiscuous enthusiasm, as the small velvet-faced army has reached every corner of the courtyard.
This exuberant audience (I'm thinking the stands at a sports event with no social distancing at all) is growing in the strawberry planter, having seized the opportunity left by evil snail cohorts eating the strawberries to the ground. Not pictured: the actual mint plant the violas have actually choked out of existence, what the hell. Usually mint needs napalm to discourage it.
There used to be a chilli bush in there, but it succumbed to seasonal depression after two years of resurgence, and I haven't found a replacement yet. (COVID is making for some really odd gaps in the local nursery's offerings).
There are stunted, miniaturised violas springing up at the edges of the thrice-damned astroturf and in the cracks in the brickwork all over the courtyard. Occasionally I accidentally weed them and remorsefully stick them into soil elsewhere, whereupon they cheerfully grow Much Bigger, with almost audible squeals of vegetative glee. There's a small scouting party at the base of the lemon tree now, and I can see it eying the pomegranate.
This is the result of clipping the blossoms before ripping the plants out of the pots where the flame lily and arums are trying desperately to Sprout for Spring amid thickets of the Viola Empire. It would have felt more brutal and cruel except that there are So Many Violas elsewhere in the garden, and the resulting vase is rather lovely.
In a spirit of emulation, I have denuded several volunteer poppies in the road outside of their mature seedheads, and scattered them all over the courtyard. Next spring will be all-out war. In a good way.
(My subject line is still Amazing Devil, because hyperfixation).
This entry has been crossposted from my Dreamwidth blog at https://freckles-and-doubt.dreamwidth.org/. The comment action is all over there, and supports OpenID.