You know how sometimes you'll get a reminder about Thing Wanted stuck in your mental queue, and a few shopping trips later you'll be wildly oversupplied with worcestershire sauce, or paper towels, or Campbell's chicken broth? If I had to do that with something for my garden, why did it have to be Colocasia esculenta, a.k.a. elephant-ear caladium?
2. Bugger all.
My vasty tray of perfectly seeded and labeled perennials, mentioned last time around? O the dreadful wind and rain: those big fat substantial petals from the magnolia tree next door -- the ones that fell last year during a string of dead-still days, so that I could literally hear them plopping onto the sidewalk -- all came whirling down and plastered themselves over the top of my seeded Jiffy-7 peat pellets. After it stopped raining today, I cleared them off and found flattened dying seedlings underneath them. Except for the Johnny-jump-ups, which were busily justifying their names.
If you are an author, and you write scenes in which people use various herbs for mystical purposes, please include mugwort. If enough writers mention mugwort as an essential ingredient in witchy formulations, the woo-woos will start using it, enterprising persons (probably first-generation immigrants) will start gathering it and drying it, and the godawful stuff will become just a tiny bit rarer than it is.
If you want to be politically correct, do the same for purple loosestrife, a gorgeous but invasive perennial that's the bane of northeastern wetlands. You might mention that it forms very sturdy root systems that can look just like creepy monster claws.
4. Jim, Duncan, Meg.
Drunken Lady, completely taking over its area of the garden. I see why your mother was impressed. The Murgy Rose, doing just fine. Jim's hedge rose from his yard in Colebrook, showing distinct imperialist tendencies. Roses, roses, roses.
And there in the pocket of my gardening overshirt, left over from last fall, a forgotten wad of bills, bastante para dos cenas de pernil! And I am so very tired from digging. I phone out to La Parada for dinner. On top of the pernil, chopped spring onions from the garden. It's perfect.