My walk to work

I've been walking halfway to work for the past three weeks. This has become one of my favorite things. Even the rainy days have been dry for my 35 minute walk to City Hall and I haven't missed a day yet. From City Hall, I jump on the subway for two stops to work. Easy as pie.

Our first customer

Well, it looks like this blog's name is going to have to change. Two weeks ago we had some friends over for brunch and there was a bird sighting. It was a quick one and the bird didn't eat any of the sunflower seeds set out for it, but it was something.

Then this morning, I'm innocently eating my cereal when I spot this action:



A BIRD! I said in a loud whisper to no one in particular. WAIT THERE! So I quietly ran to grab my camera in case this never happened again.




He (she?) flew away and I noticed all the seeds on the ground. This bird came by to EAT! And here I thought the bird feeder was going to be decorative.



On a high from the bird sighting, I went to check out my Gloxinia and the violets.

Gloxinia is full of more blooms. This one looked particularly grumpy this morning:



One day soon I'll do a post about how you can grow baby plants from violets, but for now I'll just show the pictorial evidence:




Birds and blooms? It's gotta be spring!

P.S. I give my brother or our friend Bob 10 minutes before they identify the little bird in this post. Go!

Squash it Monday!

Now moved to their outdoor home, we have flowers! And you know what follows flowers... VEGGIES!

Oscar is introduced to his very own crop of cat grass.

Long Live Fuschia!

Today's post is by my friend Sima. I thought it would be fun to have guest gardeners chat about their planting experiences from time to time and she's the first one. Thanks, Sim!

My two-year-old daughter's version of gardening is to take flowers, pull out the petals one by one and collect them in a flower pot alongside her Play-Doh. I think she gets this from me. My approach, though less direct, often wields similar results. Every plant I have brought into the six apartments that I've lived in over the past ten years has died aside from one or two branches of bamboo. Even the eighty-year-old snake plant that my grandfather gave me as he assured me it was easy to care for keeled over after getting caught in the rain. I moved it outside because it looked like it needed more light but what it didn't need was a NY in April storm's worth of water poured on it.

I'm not going to let this deter me. Creating a small terrace garden has been a goal of mine since I moved to NJ in September and ordered my copy of the Cook and the Gardener. And I don't want just any old greenery. I want color and beauty and some herbs or vegetables to bake into something delicious. Like Jen, I'm into projects and I'm always very optimistic when taking on a new one. The biggest challenge to this, besides my gardening skills, is that my terrace only gets full sunlight in one tiny corner, so I have been on the lookout for plants that can thrive with limited sunlight.

On a Sunday trip to the supermarket, I discovered fuschia- pendulous pink globes that will one day burst open into flowers suspended from deep green leaves like paper lanterns . At least fifty tiny worlds of possibility packed into one pot! And the best part? The directions specifically indicate that they like full or partial shade. How could this fail?



When I brought home my fuschia and removed the plastic it was looking a bit droopy and sad but I found a special place for it and watered it thoroughly. I've been checking on it every day (at least once) and today I noticed that my first bud was opening! See those luscious purple curves? Isn't she the sexiest little flower?


I prefer to think that I over-love rather than over-water. So far the fuschia has survived my tending. Now all it has to do is survive my daughter.

Look what we woke up to!

Next summer's $2 project.

Courtney and I hit up the Farmer's market in Brooklyn Heights this weekend and some of the more tempting purchasing options (other than the apple cider donuts and CAKE!) were the rows and rows of baby plants.

That's when I realized that my tomato plants? They could totally be sold next year. $2 a pot, here I come!

Tomato plants, 44 days old.

Infestation.

So, this is nasty. A few days ago I noticed some gnat-like insects hanging onto the sugar peas that are still indoors. I waved my hand around to create some wind and knock them off; they did not move. Those little suckers were stuck on there.

I was able to pluck them off one by one, but that got gross. Here's what they look like:


Within two days, they had made it to the squash, cucumbers and tomatoes. I searched a bit online and found a likely answer: I have aphids.

Maybe more appropriately: my garden has aphids. I, thankfully, am bug-free.

Last night I bought a spray bottle, then filled it with 2 tbsp dish soap and lukewarm water. I sprayed every leaf and stem and this morning the situation was better. Apparently the soap makes the stems and leaves too slippery for the insect to keep its footing. Aphids suck the plant to get all that good growing juice. This results in yellow leaves and, eventually, dead plantage. I'm hoping that I caught them in time!

Anyone have experience with these guys?

The first ones out.

Last night I planted the peas outside and staked them with dowels and dental floss. Today, of course, it was windy and rainy. I've been worried about them all day.

Gloxinia blooms on the way!

Ok, here is the story of the Gloxinia.

Last year I wanted to have a fire escape garden. On our way back to my place, I saw a garden store.

"I need soil!" I said to Chris. We entered the store to find that the ONLY bag of soil they had weighed 40 pounds.

"I'll carry it!" Chris said. (A KEEPER, LADIES!)

Per usual, I did not have cash on me. To use a card, I had to spend at least $15. I considered my plant options and a stunning (I mean, STUNNING!) little plant called out.




"What's a Gloxinia?" I asked the lady. She told me that it was similar to an African violet and that you care for them much in the same way. I didn't listen to the rest because I too distracted by how amazing it looked in bloom. I purchased both soil and plant and my dashing boyfriend carried the 40 pounds of soil all the way home, where I replenished him with lots of Gatorade since he was looking wilted.

The Gloxinia bloomed for a month, maybe. Then it dropped its flowers and I was unclear what to do next. I had not yet had the awesome blooming African violet experience under my belt, so I was pretty skeptical about it blooming again. I read a blog that told me to cut all the leaves away and put the pot of soil (with bulb) in a dark closet for a few months.

I did that.

Then I brought it out again and started watering. A little leaf grew. Then another one. It was like magic! Then we moved to our current greenhouse apartment.

And THIS, ladies and gentlemen is what we're looking at now!




This plant is about to launch itself into being a full-time bouquet! And I could not be more pumped.

Side note: you may notice a coin sticking out of the soil in one of the photos above. This is a little quirky thing about my planting. There's no rhyme or reason to when this happens, but I like to stick foreign coins in particularly beloved plants. The Gloxinia has a Colombian coin, my cactus has one from India. I think I stuck a Euro in one of the violets. Kind of a fun tradition.

Herbs: the tiniest ones in the garden

They don't grow very fast or tall, but they sure are the best smelling things in the garden...

Basil, 37 days old.

Cilantro, 37 days old.

Oregano, 37 days old.

Squash it Monday!

Squash, 36 days old.

Surprise! It's a lettuce plant.

I was walking through the Farmer's Market this afternoon (and quite hungry, I might add) when I spotted some bags of lettuce. Perfect for a salad, I thought. And then when I got home, I looked more closely:



Still hungry for a salad, I laughed and decided to give them haircuts, then plant them. So that is what I did.




I'm not at all sure they'll survive, but I gave them a home with the rest of the garden inhabitants. They look pretty funny among the babies, I have to say.