Funny story about Sant Joan.
In case you're unfamiliar with it, Catalonians celebrate the summer solstice with fire, lot's 'o fire. During the days previous to Sant Joan the locals bring their wooden garbage (crates, chairs, you name it) to the town square. After dark the bonfire is lit and people dance and sing around it. Great fun.
Several years ago, as I strolled through town I noticed, dumped upon the mound of sofa skeletons and and other attic fodder, the church confessional.
What was wrong with the thing? Were folks not confessing in it any more? Was it full to the brink of confessions? I inspected it closely and found no damage save a bit of a water mark at the base where it had been mopped around.
I thought it would make a great front hall closet. But not knowing the protocol, I abstained from taking it. It was a damn shame to watch it burn. Sort of ironic too.
- watered at about 9:30 for half an hour
- noticed that the Winter Queen Camellia (Kramer's Supreme) is in the shade (as she prefers) thanks to the dead pine
- checked again at noon, and the Queen was in full sun
- will have to get a budget for taking out the pine before it falls on the house
- collected dead flowers from the African Daisies
purple
white
yellow
- waiting for them to dry
- wondering how long that will be
- also wondering at what stage is the best time to pluck what is left of the flower
- picked different stages to observe
- observed: if you wait too long, you lose the seeds to the ants
Yesterday Ot filled 3 tobacco pots with flowers from our daisy bush after having spread them out to dry in a wooden box for a few days.
The sunflower seeds I planted a few days ago are about 5cm high now. The ones I planted in small pots the day before yesterday show no signs of activity. Be patient Little Grasshopper!
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