Herbs, ugh.
May. 20th, 2009 04:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
conuly
Our comfrey was thriving on Monday - about as tall as Evangeline, almost as tall as Ana. Tuesday it was about as tall as Jenn - and while Jenn is short, she's just not that short. Today it's tall enough to fall over and collapse on the ground and block the path - and that's just one of our comfrey plants.
I don't care what my mother says, we have yet to have the disaster that requires the use of the comfrey that ate New York. (Besides, if we do it'll probably because we're cut up from fending off the rosebush that ate New York. There's something about our soil, I swear.)
So I'm going to trim it this weekend. Now, I know comfrey is good for the compost, so some of it will go in there, but I'd like to save some for human use as well. You know, in case of zombie apocalypse and all the drugstores are closed. What's the best way to go about this?
Similarly, we only need one rosemary, not three. I like rosemary as much as the next girl, but seriously, I've never used more than half an acre in my pasta. And the chamomile - who thought we needed that much chamomile??? It's approaching the height of our crape myrtle, and that's just not cool. Perhaps the pending zombie apocalypse will bring about epidemic levels of insomnia, but in that case I don't think we'll exactly want to fall asleep.
So I want to save these herbs, and I want to see if I can transplant some of them someplace less in my garden... maybe I can move some into Lenore's yard next door, she won't mind, or I can donate some to the school...? (If they take, of course.) Then I want to encourage that chickweed to grow. It's doing a fine job of preventing erosion and more annoying weeds in the places we haven't tended yet. I like our chickweed!
And finally, remind me this weekend to stop by the Farmer's Market and pick up some nettle. If I should happen to plant that in the tulips and by our fence, and if garden thieves and trespassers should happen to get stung, that's hardly my fault, is it? Pretty funny if they do, though. My mother nixed this plan two years running, of course. Better warn the neighborhood kids, though - despite having some four different kinds of mint in our yard (pepper, apple, spear, lemon) you'll note I haven't said a word about mint overtaking our garden. Thanks to the kids on the block we're actually in the novel position of having to plant more this year, and I don't want one of them going for nettles by accident - ouch!
I don't care what my mother says, we have yet to have the disaster that requires the use of the comfrey that ate New York. (Besides, if we do it'll probably because we're cut up from fending off the rosebush that ate New York. There's something about our soil, I swear.)
So I'm going to trim it this weekend. Now, I know comfrey is good for the compost, so some of it will go in there, but I'd like to save some for human use as well. You know, in case of zombie apocalypse and all the drugstores are closed. What's the best way to go about this?
Similarly, we only need one rosemary, not three. I like rosemary as much as the next girl, but seriously, I've never used more than half an acre in my pasta. And the chamomile - who thought we needed that much chamomile??? It's approaching the height of our crape myrtle, and that's just not cool. Perhaps the pending zombie apocalypse will bring about epidemic levels of insomnia, but in that case I don't think we'll exactly want to fall asleep.
So I want to save these herbs, and I want to see if I can transplant some of them someplace less in my garden... maybe I can move some into Lenore's yard next door, she won't mind, or I can donate some to the school...? (If they take, of course.) Then I want to encourage that chickweed to grow. It's doing a fine job of preventing erosion and more annoying weeds in the places we haven't tended yet. I like our chickweed!
And finally, remind me this weekend to stop by the Farmer's Market and pick up some nettle. If I should happen to plant that in the tulips and by our fence, and if garden thieves and trespassers should happen to get stung, that's hardly my fault, is it? Pretty funny if they do, though. My mother nixed this plan two years running, of course. Better warn the neighborhood kids, though - despite having some four different kinds of mint in our yard (pepper, apple, spear, lemon) you'll note I haven't said a word about mint overtaking our garden. Thanks to the kids on the block we're actually in the novel position of having to plant more this year, and I don't want one of them going for nettles by accident - ouch!
