Introductions

It began a few years ago when I lived in Venice.  I am not sure what awakened the crazy within me, but I became a plant-person.  My apartment was absurdly close to the beach (spitting distance, practically) and had a north-facing balcony.  The sun hardly shone on my little spot, but I didn't care: I bought several plants and willed myself into believing I could keep them alive.  Despite, constant fussing over the plants, most died.  It did not weaken my resolve to buy more and more plants.  I was successful (though I have no idea why since I got the sun hardly shone on my balcony and the marine layer was constantly blocking the little sun it received) at keeping several cactus alive.  My Easter cactus is lovely and still blooms beautiful fuchsia flowers every spring! 

Then, for my birthday one year, by aunt Lynn bought me one of those mail-order amaryllis bulbs. It comes in a kit with some kind of freeze-dried or space saver soil that you add water to and watch it grow.  Then you stick the bulb in and start watering.  I planted it in November and by December I had a gorgeous red and white amaryllis flower.  (I went home for Christmas and the flower ended up falling over and breaking.  Apparently I needed a heavier pot...I learned that lesson.  I am just happy I wasn't the one to come home and find it all broken on the carpet. I would have certainly shed a tear for the flower--that's how much I loved it).

I was hooked.  I tried growing more bulbs-- failure.  I tried keeping various herbs alive (the one from TJs), that wasn't a total failure, but certainly no success.  

I bought a dwarf lemon tree from Target.  Al and I piled it into her car in LA and brought it to my house.  A neighbor- with a south facing balcony- had a lemon tree that was seemingly always full of fruit.  I swear it was fake.  My lemon tree flowered and teased me with mini green fruits that never made it.  I loved that tree.  I watered it, talked to it, etc.  No luck.  Soon it was a tall pile of branches.  So sad.

Along comes the dwarf fig...

What the heck was I doing shopping the garden section in Amazon - I don't know.  I absolutely abhor shopping online.  Will avoid it like the plague.  Can't inspect the product, have to wait for it to arrive, have to pay shipping-- not for me. But nonetheless, I was on Amazon and found the unbelievably cheap offer for three dwarf fruit trees for 15 bucks.  There was a dwarf pomegranate, dwarf fig, and dwarf olive. I think it was called plants of the bible, or something like that.  I was giddy, couldn't think of any reason not to buy those lovely plants.  Olives! I could cure olives and eat them! Figs-- seriously, excellent.  Pomegranate, beyond words.  So I ordered away completely confident in by purchase. 

I bet you know what happened next.  Behold, no plants.  Then, weeks later, I get a lousy email from Amazon telling me some mumbo jumbo about how the order wasn't available.  Basically, I was p.o.'ed.  Majorly.  But the taste of fig in my mouth did not cease.  I had to have that dwarf fig.  I was obsessed with the fig.  

I searched the local box stores and Anderson's for a fig.  Found nothing but the full blown tree.  That couldn't do. So I sucked it up and went directly to the Gurney's website (where Amazon was supposedly ordering from) and bought that darn dwarf fig ($20 bucks after shipping!).  Then I waited. And waited and waited.  Eight months later I got that email telling me that my order had shipped.  I now understand that even if you order a tree, you must wait until harvest to actually get the order.  

The Fig Arrived.

Now, I was in law school at the time and had told all my friends about the tree.  Actually, most had already known about the heartbreak of losing those "fruits of the bible."  The box came, about the size of a shoe box.  I opened it and found the tiniest of "trees."  I use that word loosely because, what I really got was not a 'tree' it was two mini twigs in a small block of soil.  The mini twigs where about 4 inches tall and had a cumulative of 3 teeny leaves.  I was so disappointed.  The picture of the plant was lush and thick with leaves!  I got twigs! I was monstrously p.o.'ed.  I even wrote a review on the website explaining my disappointment.  The company never published it, rather I got an email back telling me that the plants in the pictures are several years old.  Whoo hoo-- I was supposed to know that apparently.  Well, I didn't; and my feathers were quite ruffled. 

I re-potted the pitiful twigs, like the instructions told me.  A few days later the fig lost its three leaves.  Then I really just had two twigs in dirt.  Months passed.  I couldn't bring myself to throw it away.  It just sat in its mini pot on the balcony.   Finally judgment day arrived for the fig.  I was moving to San Diego to a little apartment that got loads of sun.  I closely inspected my fig-twig. I thought I noticed a few greenish colored areas on the tips of the twigs.  With a whimper of hope, I packed the fig-twig in my car and transported it from LA to SD.  Within a few weeks of putting the fig on my front porch it was growing like crazy! Leaves bigger than my head! It even started growing a few figs last summer (none made it all the way, but that was expected).

So the gardening demon awoke! I went insane buying plants. I actually ate my own tomatoes last summer.  Insane.

This blog is for me to get all my gardening excitement out without completely driving all those people around me nuts.  (I can't expect anyone else to be as excited about my plants! Well, maybe Sandra and Al, but that is all).

So here I go.  Enjoy.  Maybe, if I get good at this urban gardening thing, you can come over some day for a fully apartment grown meal ;)