School ends this week. With no one around to tend the raised beds, it's time to retire the plants.
There was giant lettuce (yes, those stalky things are lettuce run amok)
and an alium looking flower atop what we took to be an onion..... until I remembered that alium are part of the onion family so why wouldn't they share a similar blossom?
As with all good retirements, planning was crucial. Grandma Suzi thought that 50 pots would take care of all the plants fit to share; she was off by a factor of 4. There are no 3" or 4" plastic or ceramic pots left in Tucson - unless they cost more than fifty cents a piece. After three days spent cleaning out all the Dollar Stores within a 10 mile radius, I can confidently assert that this is true.
Everyone wanted a plant to take home. Scholars who had never set food in the garden before were suddenly bound and determined to be farmers over the summer. Big kids and little kids, they were all interested in a crash course in plant management.
The lesson was simple: Plants are not fish. They do not live in water. Do not drown them.
The older scholars heard about soil having its own architecture, and how over-watering would destroy the gentle bridges which allowed air and water to move freely.
The little scholars were still laughing about their new plants not being able to swim.
There was a wide variety in the pots I found outside the Dollar Stores. Some were left over from my home garden, some were ordered from Amazon (tiny, because Grandma didn't read the fine print and mistook 3cm for 3", but perfect for seeds),
and some, by the last day, were some random plastic cups we found in the Garden Bench.
And then there was the lizard caught in the anti-bird netting over the strawberry plants.
"Grandma Suzi, there's a lizard stuck in the netting."
"Yes, I know."
"Do you have scissors?"
"No."
"But, there's a lizard stuck in the netting!!"
"Yes, I know."
And so it went until someone found scissors in a backpack and Travon managed to extricate the creature from his prison.
His tongue is very pink.
No, I did not want to pet him.
(Thursday, May 23, 2019 - The Last Day of School)
A friend is getting on with her life, and Grandma's Garden inherited her "I know I'll use them someday" collection of plastic pots. I carted them, organized them, and stacked them neatly.
I debated taking on the destruction of the parsley forest, when help arrived. The big kids, allowed to wander during their last recess before middle school, wondered if they could do anything for me. Taking advantage of one of the gigantic trash bags the delightful groundskeeper bequeathed me ten minutes before, I set them to pulling plants.
Yes, I'd be happy to sit on the bench and watch them work. I signed a yearbook or two, I helped them pot the carrots and onions they unearthed, and I repeated the plant care instructions I'd been giving all week - Plants are not fish. They do not swim. Water Wisely.
Of course, there were beasties to be discovered. This small grasshopper
(trying to creep between the heels of his hands)
was admired and, mercifully, freed.
And then it was time to go.
I began to push my loaded cart.... I didn't get far.
"WE CAN HELP YOU!!!!"
And they did.
Prince Elementary School: Making Americans, one kind little human at a time.
Until next year.......
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