I reported last week that none of our lilies returned this year. Well, a couple of days later John pointed out a few. I started counting. Twelve lilies are coming up. I had given up on them; my Dad's are about to bloom and mine are just coming out of the ground, but I'm glad they are there.
I had another discovery over the weekend, while planting the Mexican Heather. Last summer, my Dad gave a plant he had grown from me from one of his plants. Please do not ask me its name, because I really have no clue. What I can tell you is my Dad starting growing his summer before last and I loved it. It has tiny, thick leaves than drape over pots. I thought one would be perfect on our front porch. Last summer it was on my porch and it flourished! Well, it did flourish.
What I did not anticipate was our cat, Oreo, loved that plant too. She thought it was a wonderfully, comfy spot for her afternoon naps. In other words, by last autumn the plant was toast. I was heartbroken. Then, while taking a little rest, sitting on the front steps something caught my attention. There in the rise of the top step was something familiar. Several small plants. It was my plant! Growing right there on top of the mortar. John carefully pulled them up for me. There were two pieces. One plant growing tall by itself and another on a runner that had five or six small plants. Both pieces have been in a pot on my kitchen counter since Sunday. They have grown so much in less than a week. And this pot will stay in the house. No more nappy time for Oreo!
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