Remembering Francis
It is with profound regret that I close a chapter in the garden: namely Francis watch.
Francis was a liatris. My good friend bought him last year, hoping to watch him grow and thrive in a pot on her apartment's patio. When he seemed unable to make the adjustment, she asked me to transplant him in our yard, to hopefully ensure his survival.
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Francis after transplanting, already standing straighter. |
I put him in the street bed, next to the daisies and the transplanted catmint. |
While he never did stand straight and tall, Francis did bloom once before going to sleep for the winter. This spring, I've been keeping Francis watch, waiting hopefully for him to spring back to life. Alas.
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Nope. |
Sigh. |
I decided it was time to let go of unrealistic hope and move on. And so yesterday, I planted the Francis Liatris Memorial Garden: ten liatris tubers from Brent and Becky's Bulbs. Their names are Francis Jr., Francis III, Franklin, Frank, Frankie, Francisco, Francesco, Francine, Frannie, and Betty.
Now onto Francis Jr., Francis III, Franklin, Frank, Frankie, Francisco, Francesco, Francine, Frannie, and Betty watch.
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