Wednesday, Apr. 24, 2002
Dear Diary:

My foxglove is making me mental again this spring, eh.

Wicked, annoying plant.For those of you who may not be gardeners, meet foxglove. It's the lovely plant with the spikes and somewhat bell shaped flowers.

Foxglove, meet my three loyal readers. I don't know what most of them look like, but I'm sure they're every bit as attractive as you are, and probably not nearly as annoying.

Okay, now that we've got the introductions cleared up, let me tell you why this plant is making me mental.

It mocks me.

It's not that it says rude things to my face. Oh no, it's far too devious for that. No, what it does is flourish in one and ONLY one tiny bed behind my house and then absolutely refuse to grow on any other part of my property.

Really, flourish barely begins to describe how well it does in this flower bed.

It will grow between the freakin' rocks, for heaven's sake.Look at this: the plant loves it so well in this bed it will actually seed itself into the rocks that make up the bed's retaining wall. Yes, it will grow in the incredibly meagre bits of soil between the freakin' ROCKS.

And every spring for something like ten years I tenderly lift all these stray babies, plant them into the beds where I want to establish foxglove and ... and ... and they flower for the one year and THEN THEY FREAKIN' DIE.

Excuse me while I wipe the foam off my lips.

Frothing at the mouth is SO unattractive, don't you find?

There, I feel much, much better.

Okay, the deal with foxgloves is that they're biennial. That means that they flower, drop seed, the baby plant has to grow for a year and then it flowers the following June. So if your foxglove decides to be uppity and not sprinkle babies in its new home, it dies out.

It have tried EVERYTHING. In desperation, I have even taken bits of soil from what I think of as The Foxglove Home World and sprinkled it into the beds where I want foxglove to take hold. The transplanted foxglove flowers. It sets seed. The following spring I watch the soil around it anxiously for the babies I need to keep them going.

Nada, zip, rien, nothing.

Then the mother plant dies.

Now large swaths of spiky dead plants might be attractive if you're a member of the Addams family, but frankly they don't do a lot for me.

This morning I went out on my little morning garden tour, just touching base with all my little bits of green goodness. The Foxglove Home World is rampant with foxglove in various stages of development. I have foxglove coming out of the wazoo in that tiny bed.

And all the beds where I've been trying to establish foxglove?

Don't even ask.

--Marn

Old Drivel - New Drivel


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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

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2000, 2001, 2002 Marn. This is me, dagnabbit. You be you.