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Hanging Plant I can be bad when I want to be.

We can learn a lot by just observing and listening. No news here, but sometimes it's worth remembering. I learned one thing about flowers from my Mom. ONE single thing. Pick a bouquet of stupid dandelions off the front lawn and bring them to her, and I'd get a big hug and kisses on the top of my head. That's about it.  I began to accrue some knowledge of plants, trimming bushes and seeding lawns while in high school working at the cemetery. It was limited, but it was a start. Most of my understanding of how things grow and sustain comes from you know who. She has taught me when and how to transplant, when to trim for best results, and when to do something simple like water. And I thought all you had to do was turn on the spigot and aim. There's a science to it? Well, well. Old Mr. Gardiner, the man with the perfectly manicured lawn back on Mayfield Street, told me once to water in the evenings that way the ground stays moist all night. Makes sense. Elenka, however, claims the old man was wrong. Water in the early morning she says. That way there is less chance for mildew to form on your plants. Also makes sense to me.
These spring and summer days, I usually water in the AM.
As a matter of fact, I better go water now.
But here's a little secret.
Some nights, I pay homage to that old guy and water fighting the mosquitoes.
Don't tell.
It's our secret.
I told you I was bad.
Posted by Birdman at 7:50 AM