I go above and beyond having a brown thumb—my thumb is damn near black. I manage to kill every living thing I attempt to grow (even cacti), with the exception of these two sunflowers I planted back in 1983 and 1996, which grew so astoundingly huge—like, there-must-be-a-nuclear-power-plant-around-here huge—that they were kind of alarming. In retrospect, they remind me of this short story I read last year, wherein a nuclear war caused flowers to mutate to the point where they became sentient, bloodthirsty things who killed those unlucky enough to cross their path in the most gruesome ways imaginable.
My black thumb has made me feel somewhat blasé about gardening. I feel like it should interest me, since I really do love nature, but I just never felt its clarion call.
However, that didn’t stop me from attempting to gussy up my first apartment’s balcony with loads of potted flowers. I attempted to turn it into a relaxing little haven, with chairs, a bird feeder, candles, etc. Then everything died and I realized I was living in a ghetto, which made being exposed on the balcony a not-very-wise choice, and I threw up my hands in surrender.
Years later at my Wheaton apartment I tried to grow wildflowers, but not a single bloom appeared. Fortunately, though, the yard already had annuals firmly in place, thanks to my landlord, so without having to do a lick of work, I was able to spend five years enjoying tulips, roses, azaleas, berries, and more.
Now that I’m finally a homeowner with a cute, albeit small, balcony, I decided to resurrect my “little haven” idea from exactly 10 years ago. I am going to attempt, god help me, to grow a wild abundance of flowers. Aside from heather, wildflowers are my favorite, and I especially love when they’re growing side by side in a joyous, clashing cacophony of riotous color, with purple sidling up to orange and pink and red tangoing nearby. Like this pub I photographed in Edinburgh in 2003:
...and this pub I photographed in Bayswater, London, in 2006:
If it’s an utter disaster—a floral graveyard—well, I guess I’ll just switch to fake flowers in the future. But hopefully I’ll have some modicum of success. Aside from the flowers, I plan to buy a bistro table and chairs set, so when it’s not blazing hot, I can hang out on the balcony with a book and a cold drink and savor the flowers (if they actually grow!). I already bought cool strings of carved wooden lights from World Market which I’ll loop around the perimeter of the balcony, and I’m going to set up the lovely rock fountain Heather bought me as a housewarming gift. I have my bird feeder and wind chimes in place, along with the metal and glass spiral thingy I bought in London which twirls alluringly in the breeze. Last, but not least, I’m stealing an idea from an interior design book I own—one that involves making a chandelier out of a multi-pronged tree branch. The chandelier appears in the background of a photo and is never mentioned or explained, but I adore it. It’ll give me an opportunity to burn citronella candles to keep bugs away without having to fill up my little bistro table with rows of candles.
Or course, the whole point of my little haven scheme will be moot if I end up having a dreadful summer with constant rain (not likely) or constant blast-furnace heat and humidity (always a possibility). But, at the very least, I know my cats will love it out there!
song heard most recently before posting:
Dónal Agus Mórag—Altan
My black thumb has made me feel somewhat blasé about gardening. I feel like it should interest me, since I really do love nature, but I just never felt its clarion call.
However, that didn’t stop me from attempting to gussy up my first apartment’s balcony with loads of potted flowers. I attempted to turn it into a relaxing little haven, with chairs, a bird feeder, candles, etc. Then everything died and I realized I was living in a ghetto, which made being exposed on the balcony a not-very-wise choice, and I threw up my hands in surrender.
Years later at my Wheaton apartment I tried to grow wildflowers, but not a single bloom appeared. Fortunately, though, the yard already had annuals firmly in place, thanks to my landlord, so without having to do a lick of work, I was able to spend five years enjoying tulips, roses, azaleas, berries, and more.
Now that I’m finally a homeowner with a cute, albeit small, balcony, I decided to resurrect my “little haven” idea from exactly 10 years ago. I am going to attempt, god help me, to grow a wild abundance of flowers. Aside from heather, wildflowers are my favorite, and I especially love when they’re growing side by side in a joyous, clashing cacophony of riotous color, with purple sidling up to orange and pink and red tangoing nearby. Like this pub I photographed in Edinburgh in 2003:
...and this pub I photographed in Bayswater, London, in 2006:
If it’s an utter disaster—a floral graveyard—well, I guess I’ll just switch to fake flowers in the future. But hopefully I’ll have some modicum of success. Aside from the flowers, I plan to buy a bistro table and chairs set, so when it’s not blazing hot, I can hang out on the balcony with a book and a cold drink and savor the flowers (if they actually grow!). I already bought cool strings of carved wooden lights from World Market which I’ll loop around the perimeter of the balcony, and I’m going to set up the lovely rock fountain Heather bought me as a housewarming gift. I have my bird feeder and wind chimes in place, along with the metal and glass spiral thingy I bought in London which twirls alluringly in the breeze. Last, but not least, I’m stealing an idea from an interior design book I own—one that involves making a chandelier out of a multi-pronged tree branch. The chandelier appears in the background of a photo and is never mentioned or explained, but I adore it. It’ll give me an opportunity to burn citronella candles to keep bugs away without having to fill up my little bistro table with rows of candles.
Or course, the whole point of my little haven scheme will be moot if I end up having a dreadful summer with constant rain (not likely) or constant blast-furnace heat and humidity (always a possibility). But, at the very least, I know my cats will love it out there!
song heard most recently before posting:
Dónal Agus Mórag—Altan
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