Well, some of the sowed seeds at my Community Garden plot – the ones I thought had died – have finally come up. A mulch of picked weeds seems to have helped keep the ground moist.
So my heirlooms, including the Native American Yellow Scallop Squash and the Bleu de Solaize leeks, survived.
On the darker side of things, my other garden plot was totally destroyed. My shallots, the rescued garlics, both plots of peas, the foundling ground cherries, a beebalm I’d received as a gift, both second-year sage plants, the bunching onion that resurrected itself from a compost pile to become a two-and-a-half foot wide bundle of leaf tubes and flowers, the native nodding onions – all gone. And I no longer have seeds for many of them, because I’d invested my entire stock in the plot.
It was claimed that the garden was “full of weeds”, a condition apparently associated with plants not growing in strict rows. Except the shallots and garlic, which were planted in rows.
The only thing preserved? The weedy catnip which grows prolifically around here, and which I’d left only because I have some friends with cats. He claimed he thought it was lemon balm.
And the garden fence? Cut apart with wire cutters to make a trelis.
One day I’m going to have to figure out what it is that both makes people claim they’re terrified of me, and act as though I’m entirely inconsequential and not important. How can you disregard someone you think is that much of a threat? After stealing from them for decades?