A Weekend of Living Things and Rain

I remember my high school science teacher who would allow us, every Monday, to share what happened the past weekend.  Everyone would share their weekend stories, and when it came to me (the attention-prostitute that I am), I spewed the most entertaining and titillating story I could possibly muster.  It was during this weekly ritual that I first spoke of the Popcorn Day dream, actually.

Well, it’s Monday, and in the name of high school science, I will share what I did this weekend.

It was rather rainy weekend. 

[Notice the water drops in the birdbath. And the fact that I moved my lavender plant to a bigger pot. He looks much more comfortable in there.]

And on this wet Saturday, I decided to give four potted plants THE TIME OF THEIR LIVES.

First a back story on these four. When I was in France last summer, I took a day trip up from Paris to Giverny, the wonderful little town that has the pleasure of holding Monet’s famous gardens (read about my time here).  After taking giant, pleasurable gulps of Monet’s ethereal (5 points!) property, I—a believer in avoiding gift shops at all costs, for they more little more to me than overpriced circuses full of knicks and knacks that will only end up in a box that I will feel guilty at even the thought of throwing away, so they take up space in a closet, accumulating dust from years and years of not throwing a stupid Mt. Rushmore magnet away—stopped inside the Monet gift shop.

I cringe when I admit that it was wonderful.

BUT IT REALLY WAS. They had lovely Monet prints and an item that intrigued me so that I couldn’t reach into my under-the-pants money protector fast enough: seeds from actual flowers in Monet’s garden. This is no stupid key chain or printed shot glass; THIS IS AMAZING.

So I bought them. And I gifted them to my mom when I got home, four packets of four different kinds of seeds for a mix of four different colors of flowers. And this summer we planted them.

I care for these seedlings so very much, watering them every day on our protected front porch, encouraging them to someday bloom. Oh baby.

Anyway, as it was raining this weekend, I took them out a little farther to see what it was like to be watered by the Heavens. I think they loved it.

My mom and I also took a trip to a wonderful garden store and went crazy buying herbs. We had originally planned to buy just Rosemary and Thyme—to bring my nose back, again, to Provence, where stopping on the side of the road on a hot, dry day and taking a whiff of the shrubs proved that all is probably okay with the world because Rosemary and Thyme grow in the ditches in France.

But we also fell in love with Mint, Spearmint, Cinnamon Basil, and Chamomile. Six herbs.

I wasted no time (for all of you who made the joke “I wasted no thyme,” and giggled to yourselves, shame on you) putting the herbs to good use.  Along with some now herb-infused spaghetti, I also made tea with the fresh Spearmint and Chamomile. D-lish.

And along with power-cleaning our deck, reading part of the Pray section of Eat, Pray, Love, and acting once again as my parent’s live-in Tech Support, that was my weekend.