So the antsy feeling I mentioned yesterday stuck with me, prompting me to move some of our herbs from their individual 6″ pots into a couple of shared larger square containers today. It had been raining sporadically and I was putting it off. But as evening approached, it was time to cowboy up.
I moved our two parsley plants into one of the containers, and the sage into the other. So far, so good.
I got to our poor thyme, root-bound and not looking so great. If it doesn’t make it, that’s okay, but I figure giving it a chance first is better than just throwing it out. After all, the sage and mint are bouncing back, so why not? There’s still time (no pun intended!) to get a new one if this one doesn’t respond well to the move.
The tiny bit of sun moved behind the clouds. I zipped up my sweatshirt and dug the planting hole.
Click. Click. Tink-tink click. You know the sound… the light, unmistakable sound of hail. I kept going, since it just bounces off. No harm done…
It tapered off. I pulled the thyme out of its former home.
Click-click. Tinkity-tink click-click-click. It returned again, a bit harder. I put the hood of my sweatshirt up, then tugged the roots apart and dug out the drainage rocks that were tangled in the root mass. Halfway there.
Clicky-tinkity tink-click-tick-tick-tinky-click! Hail everywhere, collecting in the containers (eep! the baby lettuce!) and on the deck. I replanted the thyme as quickly as I could, thinking all the while of Lieutenant Dan in Forrest Gump, up in the rigging… “You call this a storm?”
I put away my spade and got the heck inside, soaked.
Okay, Spring, you win this round – but I’ll be back!
little farm on the balcony 