1) I put the plants outside once the last-frost date had passed but, instead of thriving and being independent like I expected them to be, the heat wave fried them and I became convinced that everything was slowly dying, and I decided to leave them to it;
2) Last week was really, really cold and stormy (in a great way — I love thunderstorms), and I therefore didn't really want to go outside;
3) I kept forgetting to take photographs even when it wasn't stormy. Also, things have been kind of busy and I try to take plant photos during the day, because it's kind of stupid to do so at night.
Anyway, though: all of the rain and thunderstorms from (2) actually revived everything, and now it's all lush and green. Unfortunately, so is the rest of the garden, so it's a little bit difficult to distinguish the specific plants in the photographs. Oops. That was unanticipated.
The tomatoes. There are three tomato plants in this little pot — all of them an heirloom variety called Amish Paste (guess what I plan on using them for); I was convinced they had some kind of blight, but they, uh, don't. I came up with the brilliant idea of actually staking them (the stakes are bamboo barbeque skewers) and they just revived right quick. I should repot them, but the situation isn't dire yet — I hadn't wanted to do it before because, like I said, I was convinced they were dying and what would have been the point.
Lesson: I really should have more faith in nature.
The strawberry plants (two of them). Oh boy. I took them back inside for a week or two, when we had that cold snap and it went down to 2 or 3 degrees Celsius at night. They did not like being inside; it was instant mold everywhere. So then I plonked them back outside. They haven't blossomed; I think it's because they hate me. (Actually, I think it's because they spent so much energy trying to stay alive through my machinations and interference that they're stunted, like a malnourished puppy.) But they are looking much better than they were before; much taller and greener and generally healthier.
I am not holding my breath for strawberries.
And finally, my strawberry herb pot. I killed the thyme. I know; it's well-nigh unkillable, but I persevered, I believed in myself, I did not water the damn thing through four days of 30-degree weather and it finally died. (Actually, to be honest, it had been kind of touch and go ever since I accidentally disturbed its roots while potting the rosemary.) At the top of the pot, the rosemary, tarragon and sage are duking it out for dominance, which is pretty great. It's just a giant mass of tangles at the top, and it smells so good. The basil is also growing like gangbusters; I kind of denuded it for the housewarming party I had, and it has more than grown back — almost everything you see (on the right of the pot) is new growth from the last two weeks. And the oregano, which looked like it was going to follow the thyme into the valley of death, has started recovering as well.
The chive-like things at the very front are either garlic chives or young bunching onions. (I have both, on different sides of the pot.) But that's why I have those cunning little copper labels, so I don't have to remember.
Anyway, I think the lesson here is that even Mediterranean plants like water with their scorching, scorching sun. Who knew? I kind of expected to plonk them outside for full sun and then let Mother Nature take care of it — I am that kind of gardener. Which I think just means that I am lazy and would have made a horrible farmer.
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