Almost Eggplant!

I think one of my eggplants is just about ready.  My FIRST ever eggplant, grown in my garden by moi!  I gave Mom my first squash and cucumber, but dang it, I'm eating the first eggplant.  How?  Eggplant lasagna?  Baba Ganoush?  Perhaps a lightly breaded something something?  CURRIED EGGPLANT?  (I don't know, my curry plant is a bit peaked, but maybe it could spare a bit).

The planning of the ceremonial eggplant feast is almost as much fun as the feasting.

I think I'm going to plant a row of onions

I figured out that I need to stagger my onion planting or I'll have a lot of onions all at once. So, I'm going to plant a row today. Yesterday I put some bulbs in my planter out in front of the house-spraxis or axis or something I've never heard of, I just liked the way they looked.

I'm still not any closer to a clear vision of where I'm headed, but planting things in the dirt seems to relax me and give me faith in the future.

More Sun, Some Roses, a thorn...

We set a new record in Oklahoma today-78 degress on February 4. Tomorrow, I kid you not, snow is forecast. That doesn't bode well for the 6 giant roses I transplanted today-they were already in their new homes before I listened to the forecast. The little garden in front of my house just couldn't hold the 6 old bushes, and I just couldn't kill them. So I dug six new holes, dug up 6 roses and transplanted them. Maybe I have indirectly killed them. Oh well, I got a lot of good exercise from the exercise.

While I was digging I came across the carcass of a horned lizard. Pretty cool. Of course, it was one I set free last fall, poor little bugger.

The last rose was a sympathy case. It was a spindly thing that lived on the SE corner of the house, where the sun rarely shines. It spent most of its life in the shadow of a the large cedar tree I had removed at the end of last summer, long before the sycamore masscre of January 2008.

It really is an odd shaped plant, but I felt bad for the hard life it had, so I dutifuly dug a hole in the sunny front yard and plopped it in. It didn't go without a fight-it was the only one that drew blood.

I went to return the sharp shooter shovel (my favorite shovel, I really must have one) and told my folks of the saga of the roses. I was ready for Mom to say "I don't like flowers in the front yard if they aren't in beds," and I said "I know. I do." and that was that. They both thought it odd that I felt sympathy for the spindly rose.

Sometimes, the best intentions go astray. This is true for horned lizards, roses and people. The only thing you can do is just keep planting, hoping that some day, some will grow.