Pali, Pali, Quite Contrary
How does my garden grow? Well, considering I still can’t bend over to weed, and it takes about fifteen trips for me to water the garden by hand because I can’t fill the watering can more than half-full (it’s too heavy for me to lift, otherwise), I’d say the garden is doing very well.
I had been just starting to set the gardens up when I got the call for my transplant. My sisters asked me in the hospital what I’d been planning to plant, and I told them I honestly didn’t know. I just wanted something haphazardly colorful. I’d been planning to go to the garden store and just purchase whatever struck my fancy (within financial reason, of course). So while I was laid up, they planted my cacaphony of color for me. Here’s a picture of the result:
It turned into far more than I could have ever hoped for. They both chipped in and gave the garden and its accessories to me for my birthday, and the result is far more garden than I ever could have afforded on my own. Here’s a close-up of one of the two dragonfly stepping stones they decorated with:
I particularly love dragonflies (and lizards, and cats) and I love the way the stones look with the flowers. They also purchased an angel cat for me, which was placed in the enclosed part of the garden. The expression on the little stone cat’s face is exactly like Kitten’s. I begin to worry that she’s taken on modeling jobs behind my back.
The morning glories continue to grow like the weeds the local farmers regard them as. I’m starting to get a few flowers from them now … not a lot, just enough to give me a hint as to how they’ll look once things really get going. Here’s a picture of one of the first morning glory blooms.
The morning glory vines are doing well, though they need frequent attention to keep them from strangling the life out of every other green growing thing in a three foot radius. They’ve made it about a third of the way up the fence, and are now growing so quickly that I expect the first of the vines to hit the top of the fence within a few weeks.
By contrast, my neighbor’s garden, just the other side of the stairs, looks pretty pedestrian. They also owe a huge “thank-you” to the Socialist, who has been watering their garden regularly. Mind you, I’m only a teensy, weensy, eensy bit competitive, but it is nice to have their garden next to mine. Makes mine look ever so much better.
In other plant-related news, those of you who follow my ramblings may recall my springtime entry about the cherry blossoms. The cherry trees were full of flowers this year, quite magnificent for their short blooming season. Here is a reprint of the picture of the cherry tree ouside my bedroom that I put in my diary with that entry:
Well, no beautiful thing comes without its thorns, it would seem. All those lovely cherry blossoms turned into nice, dark, ripe cherries. The Squirrels are happy. The Blue Jays are esctatic. The ants have never been busier.
It takes forever to scrub cherry stain and rotten cherry fruit out of patio furniture. Here’s a sample shot of the patio floor:
The worst thing is, there are still HUNDREDS of cherries waiting to cherry-bomb down on me in what used to be that lovely tree. I took a shot looking straight up into the tree – it turned out a bit dark, but if you click on the thumbnail to get the full-sized picture you should have no trouble making out the future fruit splatters just waiting for the right wind, or the bird with the right level of gastric distress. 
Ah well. I’m supposed to be getting light exercise. I suppose pushing a broom is as good a form of exercise as anything.