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Our buddy Don works at the local botanical garden, and has been shamelessly enabling my garden addiction since we moved into the Hoose. Last night, he asked me,"Do you want some (indecipherable Latinate jabber)?" I asked if the thing he just said was a plant, received an affirmative, and enthusiastically agreed to take the rassafrassum home with me. I should have been alarmed when I saw the enormous bag in his hands, but I never refuse when Don offers me indecipherable things. I've gotten some great plants that way. He referred to his gift as a "big ole clump" of SPIDERWORT. Aha! English words! So this afternoon finds me, congested and coughing, planting a big ole clump of tradescantia, AKA spiderwort, as fast as I can before the colossal thunderstorms break over us. I made up a new song, too: Spider-man, Spider-man You, too, can be a Fevered Gardener. Cough syrup with codeine in it can really make the experience intriguing. |
 
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The Feverish Gardener