Category Archives: plant

Why Did My Plant Die?

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Dean & I have been to our eyeballs with green, green, green.  Every now & then, one of our greenhouse plants is brown!  This can be from a number of causes … pests, too much water, not enough water, root damage from a transplant. We are learning more about greenhouse pests, slugs and aphids, and natural methods to eliminate them.  We use beer for the slugs.  They must want a drink served in recycled jar lids, and find themselves swimming in the fermented drink which they eventually dissolve in.  Yuck!  And then aphids dislike dish soap, pepper spray, and lady bugs.  The last resort will be buying some lady bugs.  Gobble them up, ladies!  

I found this gardener/author, and thought to share his humorous poem about “why did my plant die?”  Enjoy!

A poem by Geoffrey B. Charlesworth …

Why Did My Plant Die? 

You walked too close. You trod on it.
You dropped a piece of sod on it.
You hoed it down. You weeded it.
You planted it the wrong way up.
You grew it in a yoghurt cup
But forgot to make a hole;
The soggy compost took its toll.
September storm. November drought.
It heaved in March, the roots popped out.
You watered it with herbicide.
You scattered bonemeal far and wide,
Attracting local omnivores,
Who ate your plant and stayed for more.
You left it baking in the sun
While you departed in a run.
To find a spade, perhaps a trowel,
Meanwhile the plant threw in the towel.
You planted it with crown too high;
The soil washed off, that explains why.
Too high pH. It hated lime.
Alas it needs a gentler clime.
You left the root ball wrapped in plastic.
You broke the roots. They’re not elastic.
You walked too close. You trod on it.
You dropped a piece of sod on it.
You splashed the plant with mower oil.
You should do something to your soil.
Too rich, too poor. Such wretched tilth.
Your soil is clay. Your soil is filth.
Your plant was eaten by a slug.
The growing point contained a bug.
These aphids are controlled by ants,
Who milk the juice, it kills the plants.
In early spring your garden’s mud.
You walked around! That’s not much good.
With heat and light you hurried it.
The poor plant missed the mountain air;
No heat, no summer muggs up there.
You overfed it 10-10-10.
Forgot to water it again.
You hit it sharply with a hose.
You used a can without a rose.
Perhaps you sprinkled from above.
You should have talked to it with love.
The nursery mailed it without roots.
You killed it with those gardening boots.
You walked too close. You trod on it.
You dropped a piece of sod on it.

Opening Day of Outdoor Farmers’ Market

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Deanna Greens and Garden Art will feature lovely 10″ hanging planters of perennials at the new Lake Saint Louis Farmers’ Market tomorrow held at The Meadows Shopping Center from 8:00am – 12:00 noon.  We have Boston ferns, geraniums and vinca mixed, geraniums and swedish ivy mixed, dragon-wing and charm begonias, and coleus planters and pots as well as heirloom tomato and herb plants.  This is the first outdoor market for us, and they are predicting storms, not just rain!  Hopefully, the patrons bring umbrellas or do not mind getting wet.  I know the plants like fresh rain water.  No high winds, please!  Our new tent as well as all 24 other vendors’ tents will be secured with 40# concrete weights at each peg.  Also featured will be hand-crafted photo cards and ceramic pots made by St. Charles County native artisans.  Come join opening day of the spring farmers’ market!

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March Into Spring

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“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold:  when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.”
–  Charles Dickens 

March has such turbulent weather conditions, storms, tornados, and floods.  Yet there is a knowing of what is to come after the ruckus.   Baby birds chirping, wild violets showing purple,  green grass glowing after the rains, and a rainbow’s  promise of that pot of gold.  For me the pot of gold is garden growth, showy dogwood blooms, the birth  of a new thought, the memories of my child laughing in a swing, capturing a walk in the middle of my day …  “No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.” –  Hal Borland .   March into spring …

Leafy Green Cravings

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So I am salivating while planting a micro green mix and red sails leaf lettuce seeds at the greenhouse … I think viewing this July vacation photo of a salad made by my longtime Minnesota friend, Tamie Jensen started it! 

Is it not a palette to behold?!  I am craving leafy greens … like fresh spinach, pac choy, arugula, leaf lettuce, borage, you name it!  Some of these items can be purchased at most local grocery stores, and fewer even have the organic variety.  And how far did these items have to travel to my local Schnucks or Dierbergs? And how much did that price tag say??? I am not willing to pay $5.99  for a pound “fresh” spinach that was grown 2,000 miles away!  I have become “spoiled” or a better word “selective” in my grocery purchases after farming with EarthDance Farms this past year.  Organic and local are the way to go for optimum health.  I froze several bags of spinach, swiss chard, and kale from my field labors this past growing season.  I just want fresh right now! Deanna Greens and Garden Art  recently bought this 1300 square foot greenhouse full of houseplants and flowering plants.  And it now makes way for my leafy greens!  Not quite the same as spring or autumn sunshine…  but it is organically grown, local, and cost pennies to those dollars! In 4 – 6 weeks I will be satisfied when a few of our nasturium blossoms and leaves are married with Deanna Greens and Garden Art’s very own leafy greens …

Like Blooms From A Potted Geranium

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“Change is here to stay”, and we as people are constantly changing.  Like blooms from a potted geranium.  Each opens from a bud.  And then dies to make way for more growth.  Growth is what makes me “me”.  Hopefully, we evaluate our identity on a regular basis. I know I do. I do this with conversation with friends, family, acquaintances, or the new person I just met. Also, I spend quiet time in thought and prayer about who I am and my purpose on earth. But more than anything, my identity is found in how I serve those around me. Busy wife, mother, grandmother, sister, daughter, granddaughter, wellness administrator, culinary professional, instructor, and farmer; serving in all those capacities. I have many blooms on my potted plant.  How about you?

The Summer Night Sizzles And An Old Man’s Winter Night

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"The summer night sizzles" was my wedding night in pictureques Hermann, Missouri ... dining, wining, and pining at The Cottage.

 My 96-year old grandfather will spend a many winter’s night alone.  Grandpa Earl lost his beloved wife of 52 years this August.  On Christmas Eve Grandpa Earl will be in the company of his youngest grandson, my brother.  I think my brother knows Grandpa’s heart … this poem brings me back to thoughts of Grandpa … 

An Old Man’s Winter Night by Robert Frost

All out-of-doors looked darkly in at him
Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,
That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.
What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze
Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand.
What kept him from remembering what it was
That brought him to that creaking room was age.
He stood with barrels round him—at a loss.
And having scared the cellar under him
In clomping there, he scared it once again
In clomping off;—and scared the outer night,
Which has its sounds, familiar, like the roar
Of trees and crack of branches, common things,
But nothing so like beating on a box.
A light he was to no one but himself
Where now he sat, concerned with he knew what,
A quiet light, and then not even that.
He consigned to the moon—such as she was,
So late-arising—to the broken moon
As better than the sun in any case
For such a charge, his snow upon the roof,
His icicles along the wall to keep;
And slept. The log that shifted with a jolt
Once in the stove, disturbed him and he shifted,
And eased his heavy breathing, but still slept.
One aged man—one man—can’t keep a house,
A farm, a countryside, or if he can,
It’s thus he does it of a winter night.

Garden Art Creations

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Garden art is an expression of one’s soul… Seeds packets, weathered hand trowels, a stalled tractor, the resting plow, pea shoots, sunflowers face the sun or lie their full heads to rest, rainbow reflections from the water-flowing sprinkler, dirt-cladded rocks, green garlic sprouts, worn ruts in the field road, sharp rows of green, bee’s visit to the flowering lavendar … all spiritual gifts to receive at the farm and share … an artist’s palette. 

So I have in mind to use my abundance of dried lavendar into soothing, aromatic soap for Christmas gifts and sell at the farmer’s markets this winter.  Bought some simple molds.  I thought to use creative ideas, and welcome yours. What do you use for your soap molds?  An antique or something contemporary?