I cannot say that my pineapple bush knows how to take quick decisions. This fruit was starting to begin to sort of look a little bit yellow in mid June. It's almost ready to eat I think.
I know that every time Thérèse visits my garden will get a make over and here we were buying pots and plants.
My growth is not quite as refulgent as this but I'm doing my best.
It is one might say, a good start.
I now have a mulberry bush growing under my house. My garden consultant fell in love with this green spindly shrub and would not let go. I am going to have to work hard to keep this one going until the consultant returns.
While I was in Italy in July some shrubs drowned and as sad as I was to see the devastation caused by Nature's overwrought response to the previous drought we have now potted (Thérèse potted actually) several replacements, figs, blueberries and blackberries.
And some delightful though anonymous flowers.
I like to use air conditioning condensate to water so I got a spare watering can to keep the process going night and day.
And in the "old vegetation" department my impromptu flower pot got the consultant's thumbs up to my surprise. "Quelle surprise!" j'ai dit.
Cheyenne is a willing co-conspirator in my plant killing endeavors. She likes the grassy bed I planted for her. All good dogs deserve lawn time even in a pea rock desert like the Keys, and she is a very good dog.
One of my non communicative winter neighbors actually approached me and spoke English to me asking what this plant is. "I never knew pomegranates grew down here." well neither did I but Dolly did and have me this bush which has survived my maladministration well enough to yield several fruits this year. Including the one early fruit that's as stolen by a snowbird no doubt before they went back Up North. I have lovely neighbors. That wasn't as bad as the guy who cycles the street all winter and calls code enforcement on the big bad untidy yard violators ( not me - yet!).
Frangipani grows whether you want it to or not and even I can't seem to kill this guy who guards my mailbox.
My adult coconuts are doing fine, as they would because they need nothing from me.
The seagrapes are in the same happy position and I'm getting to eat quite a few this year. Which probably means the birds are stressed as is every wild animal this year of global climate change, because usually the local doves get to eat most of them.
I am the only human who is unable to grow Bougainvillea and my last one drowned in this pot. Thérèse added a hole to the bottom and gave it another go:
I also added a hole to the pot containing the banana tree donated to this major gardening effort by Lucy. It is doing well. epsecially now that I have pruned it of dead leaves, since I took the picture.
My wife's herbs can't be contained on the deck, which is actually the roof of the rain water cistern that stores our private water supply.
I grew this avocado from a stone in a fruit we ate. It died and is a monument to rainy season. It needed another hole in the bottom of the pot apparently.
Flowers guard the entrance to the porch.
And they seem to be doing okay.
We are getting ready to do a porch makeover with paint and everything, ready for winter, if Sears can just manage to deliver the correct furniture. Four weeks and waiting....
Growing plants is a commitment. Heaven help me. Where's the Chicago cousin when I need her?
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