It is a good time of year. We can very nearly say with almost sort-of, closing in on possible certainty that there will be no more snow for a good 6 or 7 months, the plant sales are in full swing, the plant-specific festivals are rockin’ it HARD olde school (emphasis on olde), and people are cleaning the crap out of their sheds and basements. And that crap, dear reader, may very well end up as my crap.
Last Saturday was the annual Parkdale Horticultural Society Plant Sale or what I like to call, you better get there early and you had better lace those fightin’ shoes up extra tight and be ready to kick major butt cause those gardeners are tougher than you’d expect! And they are very serious about their sale plants. And to be honest I am very nearly choking on the word “sale” as I type this because while some plants were indeed sold at below market cost (as you shall see from my awesome scores below), I spotted a number of plants that were priced higher than plants I have seen at bourgeois garden stores. NICE TRY Parkdale Horticultural Society members. Sure the money collected from the sale goes towards altruistic endeavors, supporting local gardens and feeding starving children and saving the world or whatever but you can’t make me spend $3 a piece on your repotted strawberry offsets or your they’re-native-therefore-worthy-of-a-big-markup plants.
I’ve been attending this thing for years now and there are always one or two surreal moments in that community center gym that make me stop and ask myself, “Who are you?” My inner voice sounds exactly like Brenda Walsh when I say it. [Okay, pause for a moment. Now Davin and I are arguing about who said that. He thinks it was Kelly to Brenda and I think it was Brenda to Brandon.] Like those few seconds when I was stuck in the crowd, pushing my way in slow motion through a sea of bodies and carts towards the Shady Perennials Table feeling like an early eighties mom fighting for the last 5 Cabbage Patch Kids. And then by the time I reached the table all that was left was the not-so-cute one with a weird name like Geneva Mary Rose or Mercedes Brandi Lynn.
I recently added a new category, “Gayla’s Gardens” to the site archive. I’m sorry about the title, I know it’s lame. Just reading that back makes me think it should be displayed in Mistral and accompanied by a photo of me sporting matching floral-patterned knee pads, apron, gloves and a GIANT smile. I’d be wearing a floral-patterned dress too.
I decided to do this because I was having trouble locating old posts about the gardens and figured readers might also prefer the option of searching by posts that are more specifically about my personal gardening spaces, of which there are three. All three are bundled into one category rather than separating into three more categories. I have to admit that I am not quite done archiving since there are literally thousands of pages to search through on this site.
And while I’m at it I will also admit that there are lots and lots of old articles that have never been archived, period. Because I suck.
P.S. I started a Twitter account a while back that can be followed if you are into that sort of thing. It updates my feed and I occasionally write to say “Just planted the peas” and exciting things like that.
First of all, dig on that name. The garden industry needs some serious help coming up with better names for cultivars. On second thought, as you were garden industry. If the industry suddenly morphed into “sophisticated” and focus grouped I would miss out on all the enjoyment I get in making fun of it. I’m going to be speaking on a panel at a greenhouse growers trade event in July which means I will be meeting some of the people who come up with these names. I can’t wait!! I especially hope I get a chance to meet the genius behind ‘Pacific Sexy.’
But I digress. I picked these flowers out of the Guerrilla Garden yesterday morning to brighten up my desk. I try to refrain from picking too many flowers from that garden, intending to share in their beauty with the neighborhood. But these blooms were hidden behind rapidly growing foliage so I figured, Why not?
I have a weakness for these corner store plant displays and can not avoid casing the selection with my eyes even if I don’t stop moving to fully assess it. Sometimes I repeat a mantra underneath my breath that goes something like, “Do not stop. Do not stop! There will be no stopping.”
While I am making confessions I will also admit that I have mentally mapped out my most frequented areas of the city based on the location of these corner store garden shops and have them categorized based on selection, accessibility (walking or bike), quality, price, and the kind of care they provide the plants. At this time of year chances are good that I will make detours in order to get a feel for the selection available. Chances are also good that I will stop.
I took this photo in Austin, Texas back in March but my own peas are about this big now. Soon there will be fresh peas! I am counting the minutes.