Let’s go inside
‘Twas late autumn of 2021 when the seed catalog made me purchase two dwarf pomegranate plants. The ad did not say, “Fruit so plenteous, you’ll be able to quit your day job soon,” but that was my reading of it, so I settled the two spindly sticks in pots of luscious soil and parked the pots in front of the living room window. A week ago, I moved them from their usual warm-season place on the deck back inside for their fourth go-around in the living room.
The catalog boasted I would get, for my hard-earned credit card purchase, a bush bearing a showy display of red-orange flowers followed by colorful small fruit, so I’m seeing a short Christmas tree in summer plus I can eat the ornaments. There were a few lonely, isolated blooms in summer two on one plant, a handful more during summer three on each plant, and finally!… a ¾-inch fruit. I’m going to keep my day job.
It might have been that same seed catalog in 2021 that made me buy a dwarf fig bush. I like figs. I would eat them often if there were a handy supply nearby, but, so far, there is not. The plant has grown taller in its three summers on the deck, but no trace yet of the ideal of my expectation. The good news is there is hardy new growth near the base, so something is happening, and next year, if the creek don’t rise, by swilly, there’ll be figs on the plate all summer, or at least five… I’ll be delighted with five figs. You learn to temper expectations in this life and appreciate it if you get five figs.
But the living room experience goes far beyond figs and pomegranates. To accommodate the drastic seasonal change, the garden crew jumped into action (at the last possible moment) to save vulnerable lives and the destinies they hold secret.
In the reclamation department we find four clients. Hardiest is a bedraggled Munstead lavender that withstood the first two really cold nights last weekend (where’s the gardener!), but the crew finally rehomed it inside beside a pomegranate. I’ve never had a lavender see a second spring here, so this one can set a new Olympic record. It deserves credit for handling drought, modest neglect and a divisive election year.
I started two Greek mountain mint plants from seed, and it was a slow slug during their first summer. They’re not aggressive like spearmint, but they persevered, and one of them began to show some vigor as football season reached its halfway point. It now sits closest to the woodstove, but that could change with the addition of a much-needed conservatory onto the southwest end of my house.
For the first time in front of the magic window is a worn-out downy wood mint in the shape of three bare twigs with the hope of life below ground still stirring. We’ll see. Also looking bare and lonely are three Mexican sage twigs, one of which I saw trying to root. You learn to temper expectations in this life and appreciate it if the sage roots.
A good example of when innocent visions and best intentions are contrary to your resources is my tomato crop in front of the window on the left. Recently, out of compost on a garden bed sprouted healthy tomato seedlings. It’s late November. What was I thinking?!? Okay, so I transplanted five seedlings from different sections of the compost hoping they might be different varieties. And, wouldn’t you know, a clump sprouted out of the former tomato bed, so I had to claim a couple of those. I had no choice. These seedlings will be four months old before they can be re-transplanted. Like puppies, they don’t stay little.
And a geranium by the window, and peppers, garlic chives, schlumbergeras, a rosemary, a family of aloe veras, and more! Yikes a monkey! I need a conservatory!