Crossing off the days on the calendar at work, I notice that Saturday was a New Moon.
In some philosophies of farming, you can now sow new plantings and they will thrive as the moon waxes; that's sympathetic magic at work.
Mind you, it would have helped my garden more if I'd finished planted immediately after all danger of frost had passed.
Having dilly~dallied & shilly~shallied willy~nilly, I'm still teasing out the garden a month later.
I have barrels upon pots upon boxes of seedlings; I still have seeds that I'm trying to germinate.
The neighbors already have full~blown flower gardens, having bought pre~grown plants jump~started at the nursery.
It's as if their gardens have popped out of the earth fully developed like Athena from Zeus' thigh (or, from Zeus' forehead, depending on who you ask)*.
Never thought I would suffer from garden envy.
{to plants:} C'mon, guys, get stuck in! Go, go, go!
~ ~ ~
*Personally, I prefer thigh; forehead always makes me think of Athena as bursting out like some horribly over~ripe pimple. I'm sure the other gods would have nicknamed her Zit and ribbed her mercilessly about that. But all behind her back, of course. In hushed tones. Out of earshot. Having looked around very carefully first.
Posted by edgar at June 2, 2003 11:29 AM