A lack of portulaca

I can’t say enough about portulaca–about the gorgeous rich colors, the satiny texture of the flowers, the tenacity of those funny-looking little plants, which seem to grow in just about anything–sand, concrete, you name it. For years now, my portulaca have self-seeded, most conveniently right up against the sidewalk along my back garden, which is exactly where you want portulaca, since they only grow about two inches tall. This year: no portulaca. Weird, because this hot, dry weather is just what they seem to thrive on. I don’t know if I did too good a job of pre-digging the bed up or what, but there are none to be seen. 😦

Fortunately, today I stopped at a farmer’s market, thinking to buy some local fruit and maybe a melon. It turned out to be one of those farmers’ markets that don’t actually sell local produce, at least not this early in the season, although I did snag what I’m pretty sure is an actual local cucumber. (No wax.) HOWEVER! There were portulaca. For sale. Half-price. Which made them 75 cents a six-pack. And even though they’re more like four-packs, frankly, I can’t really fit much more in my garden, at least not in front. (The back is another story. Hope those half-price zinnias I stuck in really do branch out.)

So, I was already counting it my lucky day on account of having bought three six-packs of portulaca for the low, low price of $2.25 when, just along the time when I was thinking I’d go to the pool, the heavens opened and a regular brief but intense deluge took care of all the watering for me! And then the Phillies went on to win their game. And South Africa defeated France in the World Cup. My cup runneth over! I love working in my garden, but I find standing there with a hose and watering it as boring as hell.

Photo by Frank Vincenz licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike 3.0 License.


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