1. The paltry amount of rain. My rain gauge was like… gauge… is that right? No squiggly line. I guess so. My rain gauge was like “Nothing to see here.”
2. The coneflowers, obviously.
3. Library books on Kindle. Whew, is it just me or is it a little bumpy in here?
4. Beth Harwell said the following after presiding over a session hell-bent on sticking its nose in my pants, “I look forward to another successful session next year that will lessen the role of government and enhance the job environment for Tennesseans” and she seemed not to die of shame. I don’t understand it.
5. There are fewer Southern Baptists this year than last. Honestly, gentlemen, when you make it your business to exclude women and oppress gay people, the people who love you and care about you but believe you have lost your damn fool mind will eventually start avoiding you until you come to your senses. Just something to think about next time Lifeway is hosting a secret cabal of any sort.
6. I don’t know if this is fair or not, but I still laughed. I apparently can’t resist a good anti-MFA rant.
People, I feel like I’m not expressing the strangeness of this coneflower situation adequately, because, when I got home from work, I noticed ZERO people standing in my back yard staring at my coneflowers.
1. They are tall. This is a picture of one about to bloom fully. Please note–it reaches to my boob. That is my actual boob and the actual coneflower. I know you can’t tell from this angle that it is in the ground as well, but trust me, it is.
2. These are growing, flourishing, apparently, in the same spot in my garden where the astilbe and the columbine thrive. You can see the columbine in this photo.
3. I don’t know if the pale color is a result of them not getting much sun, but please note the hollyhock in the background which has never amounted to anything because it doesn’t get enough light. Usually, coneflowers and hollyhocks have similar light needs.
So, there you have it, folks, my giant mutant shade-tolerant coneflowers which I did not even plant here. How to explain this? Maybe they get more light than it seems like? But they’re under a big tree. The hollyhock hates it there. I don’t know. But at least, unlike last year, I see no signs of yellow aster on the coneflowers. But for the record, the yellow astered coneflowers I had to pull up last year were between 18 and 24 inches. They were also in a sunnier spot.
I was pulling out of my garage this morning and I caught a glimpse of something in my rear view mirror and I was like “WHAT THE FUCK?!” and I turned around to look and it was just these coneflowers I took a picture of this weekend.
Now, I may have said something then about how tall they are. But I feel like I’ve failed to get across their height. People, I feel like they have to almost be four feet tall. Now, I looked on Wikipedia and they said that they can get over a meter tall (for those of us who came up through US public education, a meter is just over three feet). So, I think it’s possible that they are just normal conflowers and not echinacea purpurea gigantopithicus, but I’m still keeping my eye on them. Because, hello, they are tall!
And here’s what’s even weirder. I didn’t plant coneflowers where these are and they aren’t getting direct sunlight most of the day.
If I could grow a shade-tolerant coneflower… I could make tens of dollars!!!
I feel bad when people give me plants because I know my gardening blogging gives the impression I have some gardening skills. But really, my whole gardening career consists of fighting with weeds and being shocked when things go well.
Beth gave me this awesome aloe a while back and I put it in some dirt and then I fretted about whether I was overwatering it or underwatering it. Today, I saw that it put up a green shoot. And I was so relieved that I hadn’t killed it, I can’t even tell you.
The white sage, however, was a bust.
Speaking of things that are a bust, they put in speed bumps at the Bordeaux library that are actually less traumatic to go over at about 40 than they are to go over slow.
Here we are, another day, another chance of rain. Lately, we have had many chances of rain and apparently blown them all. But I’m hoping today is the day, because I need it for my garden!
A good soaking.
I’m going to look back on 2011 as the year we did not have spring.