Before we go any further, I should point out that Siri is the gardener around here. I’m just a dabbler, and will likely remain so–especially since most of my backyard is concrete, and the only water in the backyark is a faucet with a hose so rusted I can’t remove it, that runs to not-good irrigation for two citrus trees, a place a citrus tree was, and leaves out two citrus trees.
My kid is certain the concrete is covering up a pool someone didn’t want to bother taking out properly. I don’t know, but it’s one more reason (the other being weeding) to just leave the concrete where it is instead of pulling it up to put in a garden.
So yeah. Container garden. The roomie and I have long entertained wistful thoughts of a container garden. Or just growing a few herbs, the ones we love the most.
We can’t grow herbs in the house, you see. The cat eats plants, and all the places (presumed to be) safe from the cat are already taken up with my beloved houseplants. Also the kitchen is a cave with no windows, so goodbye pleasant dream of a windowsill herb garden.
We’re probably going to put a skylight in the kitchen eventually, but not yet. And there still won’t be a windowsill.
So a container garden, out on the concrete. Where the faucet can’t be used.
Excuse me a moment while I run and put “penetrating oil” on the join to soak in and see if I can solve that problem myself.
Right. Back. Where was I?
The dream! We’ve had this dream for a while. At the last place we ever rented I hope I hope, we had even more concrete, proportionally (the back yard was waaaay smaller.) And neighbors who thought letting their dogs pee on the basil plant I had out front was funny. The apartment before that–yeah, you barely had room to open the door on the front stoop, and the back porch was taken up by the washer and dryer.
So. We’ve been here two years now. We’re settled. It’s time.
We’ve tried it before, and we have the empty pots to prove it. (This time I will water the plants consistently! And I won’t let roomie near them as her utmost belief in her black thumb is repeatedly borne out by the death of plants.)
Got pots? Got soil? Got a commitment to carry water until you can get the hose sorted out? All that’s left is plants. So yesterday we went to the nursery and browsed around looking at awesome things, and we came home with plants and more dirt and some citrus fertilizer because I don’t want to lose another citrus tree, dammit.
It was a really cool nursery, by the way. In the middle of it they had a water feature with a waterfall and a little curved stream that ran into a small pond with huge lily pads and koi. It would be delightful anywhere, but here in the desert it was magical.
But I didn’t take any pictures. They were trying to help us out, because they were closing. Oops.
We bought lavender because roomie loves it. We bought spearmint and peppermint. (I totally remember which is which. Yep.) We bought two pots of basil because YUM. And lemon balm. I think. Why? I don’t know. Roomie wanted it.
Whatever. It’s green.
That’s it so far. Soon (hopefully) I’ll start the process of transplanting them. With luck, they will soon take over the pots.
Om nom nom.