When I was about nine or ten, mum gave me a patch of earth in one of the flowerbeds in the garden. I planted Forget-me-Nots and Pansies, excited about watching them grow.
Two weeks later, mum had to take back the plot as the weeds were running riot and the poor flowers were dying.
That was the extent of my gardening for the next sixteen years.
Two weeks later, mum had to take back the plot as the weeds were running riot and the poor flowers were dying.
That was the extent of my gardening for the next sixteen years.
In Sevilla we moved into a house with a big garden. Inspired by all that outdoor space, I flexed my green gingers - and failed miserably. My pots of flowers soon withered in the heat, my strawberry and tomato plants refused to grow and stayed the same size all summer, despite being fed and watered. (I would like to point out they did not die; they just did not grow.)
On our return to Munich we had a balcony, and so I had another attempt with flora. The alpine strawberries produced a handful of fruit before they died, the geraniums lasted a month or so before finally withering up. The rosemary at least fared well - but this may have been something to do with it not needing much water, as forgetting to water plants is my great downfall...
A new city, a new country, a new continent - it was time for me to have another attempt at 'horticulture.'
On our return to Munich we had a balcony, and so I had another attempt with flora. The alpine strawberries produced a handful of fruit before they died, the geraniums lasted a month or so before finally withering up. The rosemary at least fared well - but this may have been something to do with it not needing much water, as forgetting to water plants is my great downfall...
A new city, a new country, a new continent - it was time for me to have another attempt at 'horticulture.'
I bought a couple of pots, a bag of compost, and some seeds. I sowed a large pot with sweet peas, and another pot with chives. I then cheated and bought a small rosemary plant (thinking back to my success in Munich, I wanted to have something that would at least stay alive for a couple of months...)
When mum and C were here I showed them the delights of the Jean Talon market. Now the weather is warmer, the market has expanded from it’s winter formation and spread it’s wings regarding the number of stalls. Amongst the vast array of fruit and vegetables on offer, many of the stalls were selling plants and herbs. All three of us were mesmerized by the humungous hanging tomato plants at one stall in particular.
We wondered around the rest of the market, buying vegetables for a vegetable lasagna for that evening’s meal, a herb box (I cannot get enough of fresh herbs – they make even the most mundane dish come alive, and cover a fair few mistakes), and a bean plant; and then returned to the spectacular tomato plants. The guy at the stall produced a gigantic plant, which was amazing but very heavy. Asking if we could have a smaller one, he looked very puzzled (they were all the same price, whatever the size) but when we then explained to him we were taking it back home on the metro, he just looked plain amused. Playing along to our whims he foraged out another plant.
Although more modest, this plant was by no means small. We paid (he reduced the price by a couple of dollars for this *petite* plant) and walked away with his bemused chuckle ringing in our ears. After a couple of minutes walking with the heavy, awkward and cumbersome thing I figured why most sensible people would indeed take it home by car and not attempt to carry it on public transport.
Although more modest, this plant was by no means small. We paid (he reduced the price by a couple of dollars for this *petite* plant) and walked away with his bemused chuckle ringing in our ears. After a couple of minutes walking with the heavy, awkward and cumbersome thing I figured why most sensible people would indeed take it home by car and not attempt to carry it on public transport.
During the journey back home (which seemed to take triple the length of time it did coming out to the market) carrying this monstrous plant, I received many very puzzled looks (I was starting to think no-one in Montreal had seen a tomato plant before...). I like to think I made the commute home for some people a tad more interesting than it usually is.
I provided mum and C with much amusement on the way home, I can safely say that much.
I provided mum and C with much amusement on the way home, I can safely say that much.
The plant drooped that very evening, and has not looked very well since - it was obviously scared by its underground ordeal - and then to my dismay, the following morning, biceps still hurting from carrying the plant, there was a green tomato placed, not on the floor, but on one of our chairs outside with a big bite mark out of it. Were we going to have to do battle with squirrels for the fruits…?
However, nearly a month later it is still producing handfuls of tasty red tomatoes, despite the withered appearance of the leaves; and even if the squirrels are pinching the odd fruit or two, there are still more than enough for T and I to pick a couple every day.
However, nearly a month later it is still producing handfuls of tasty red tomatoes, despite the withered appearance of the leaves; and even if the squirrels are pinching the odd fruit or two, there are still more than enough for T and I to pick a couple every day.
The lonely French bean plant (which needed re-potting as soon as we got it home really, but which I didn't re-pot until about a week ago), has produced two beans! There are new flowers forming so hopefully it will produce more beans... The poor plant even survived Albie sitting on it, causing a snapping sound underneath his behind as he excitedly recalled his adventures in the alleyway to us in loud miaows.
I solemnly picked our two beans the other night and cooked them: one for T and one for me. They were pretty yummy - T remarked they "tasted very beany"!??! - my comment was I don't think they are French beans, as they tasted more like a Runner bean, but yet they look French. So I am now a tad confused...
The herbs are blooming. So all our meals are adorned with two varieties of parsley, chives , thyme, and two types of basil.
Regarding my first attempts with greenery: the rosemary is rocketing; the chives are growing, but still quite spindly and the pot of sweet peas only has three plants...and they aren't growing as quickly as I thought they would. (I fear it's a repeat of Spain and the plants that never grew.) They better hurry up otherwise they will not have flowered and winter will come, then they will regret it!