Usually my Bloom Day photos are close-ups like this one, showcasing the pops of color in my beds and borders. This time, though, I decided to go out and take some quick snapshots of my various plantings as a whole. I’ve done very little spring cleanup at this point, so I’m posting these as-is, warts and all.Continue reading
Crocus chrysanthus ‘Cream Beauty’ joins the Dwarf Reticulated Iris as the first flower of spring in my USDA Zone 6 garden.
I spent at least an hour yesterday repotting aloes and kalanchoes that Baxter had knocked over. I was proud of the arrangement of heavier pots in stands and supports, and was sure they’d be safe from kitty shenanigans.
As happens so often, I was completely wrong.
After I took the above photo, I went and had a good cry — because, seriously, how the hell am I supposed to make any headway on my general clutter if I keep having to rescue my plants? And not that I’m wishing kitty destruction on my family’s belongings, but I’m feeling a little singled-out here.
(I should note that he also gets up on the bathroom counter where I keep my bookbinding supplies and knocks my brushes onto the floor.)
Baxter doesn’t even spend time in this window; he specifically targeted my aloe plant. I only have so many windows, especially during the winter when the sunroom is too cold for most plants, and this shell game of moving plants from window to window to avoid destruction is getting old quick. He’s already eaten my purple shamrock THREE TIMES, and I’m running out of window options.
(BTW, remind me to tell you all about what happens when one accidentally leaves succulents in an unheated sunroom in February. The aftermath alleviated some of my plant overcrowding issues.)
So, as part of Laundry & Chores Sunday, I get to once again repot my aloe, AND rescue all my baby jade starts that got scattered across the kitchen floor.
EDIT: My Google research tells me that aloe is toxic to cats. Well, that’s just great. Hopefully Baxter just gnawed on the leaves and didn’t actually eat any of it. I’ll feel like a real ass if eating my cherished plants makes my cat barf.
I seem to have become one of those people: the ones who wake up with only a hungry cat as an alarm, who (after feeding said cat) will go outside to cut fresh flowers to enjoy indoors.