2019: The Green Year
Blue is my favourite colour. It has been for as long as I can remember. And purple and green have come in second, always.
And yet, this year is the colour green.
I have moved interstate when I had expected to be moving overseas. My new home has a garden, and it baffles me that things grow without any help or hindrance from me. Because someone else (or several other people) have established the garden in previous years, plants occasionally burst forth and I have no idea what they are until someone else recognises a photo I show them. Usually after mystery plants have started flowering.
I had to have someone come and tell me which green things were weeds and which were garden plants. And then it rained and rained and everything grew before I could get the weeds out and a swath of proper garden plants burst up and I could no longer even see the weeds to pull them out!
I like gardens - other people's gardens. Life and growth and beauty. I don't like getting dirty, and I don't like making life or death decisions about plants. But I do like being able to see the garden from the lounge/dining room in my new home, to watch it change over the weeks and months, to see the birds and kangaroos and even rabbits visit.
But there is so much more to this year's greenness.
My grandparents, Mum, and youngest sister came interstate early this year for a Begonia festival about two hours away from where I live, so I joined them. I had no idea what begonias were before that, and must admit to still being a bit baffled, because there were so many different ones and I have no idea what they have in common!
Two months later I visited a church market nearby, just out of curiosity to see what they had for sale, and I bought two jams and a jar of lemon curd. Yum. On my way out I walked through the plants, and one with very unusual light orange flowers caught my eye. I read the label, discovered it was a begonia, thought of my grandmother who had been disappointed at not being able to buy a begonia at the festival, and ended up leaving with the first plant I have ever bought for myself.
Since the plant is an orange rubra begonia, I named it Rubra. I am perhaps the person most baffled by this acquisition, although everyone who knows me has been completely surprised and rather amused, but I had no idea what else was about to happen.
The next weekend my church had a trading table. And I came home with two succulents. Who also received names: Beanie and Fly Girl, after characters in a song by the Cat Empire (best band in the world).
A week passed with no new plant acquisitions. A second week. I thought the phase had run its course.
And friends asked me to look after their plants while they were out of the country for a month. A month! They actually like gardening, and have quite a large collection of indoor and outdoor plants. The responsibility! If they weren't leaving within a few days, and hadn't already asked a bunch of much more garden-minded people, I would never have agreed, and yet...
We all survived, and at least one plant flowered, which was rather lovely.
Another month passed without any change to my collection of pot plants. I travelled interstate, back home, and when I bought some new clothes, found myself drawn to the greens in the shop, buying a green knitted jumper and a long sleeved green top. And found myself wearing green and purple more than blue for possibly the first time in my adult life.
And then in August I acquired a plant, one I'd never heard of before, because some colleagues brought in a collection of little plants grown from cuttings of one in their garden. A white gaura, which apparently has flowers like butterflies, and so Mariposa joined Rubra, Beanie and Fly Girl.
A few more weeks passed, and I decided it was time to finally get potting mix so I could repot Rubra into the lovely glazed blue pot I had bought for her. So I went to the local nursery, got potting mix, found some lovely matching pots for Beanie and Fly Girl, had a quick look around, and bought TWO MORE PLANTS!!! Two lovely little plants both native to the area I am living in, one which had stunning little purple flowers, and one which promised blue flowers. Which meant I also bought a second potting mix, and two more pots for when they needed repotting.
Naming gets harder, not easier. And so these two haven't quite settled into their own names yet. I had initially been thinking Maria (emphasis on the last 'a', from another Cat Empire song) and Sky (also a Cat Empire reference), but one is called 'Black-eyed Susan' on its label and keeping Susan would pair with Rubra's name. And then another song got stuck in my head, Marliya from the album Spinifex Gum.
So now I am waiting for them to reveal their full identities to me. For them to show me their names. And I feel more nervous for them than any of the others, because while I know people who have successfully grown begonias and succulents and even the gaura, no one else has these two in their gardens. I have trodden on new soil, old soil, and the world is all mystery and magic. And the hope is all the sharper for it.
But even this is not the end of the green story!
A few months back Rubra lost a branch, with beautiful bright glossy leaves. It broke off, and when I found it in the morning I couldn't just throw it away. So I brought it inside, put it in a jar of water, and enjoyed the temporary joy of it in my lounge room. I expected to return from my trip interstate to find it wilted, at which point I would put it in the garden to decompose/compost.
Imagine my surprise when I turned the glass jar around one day to find a flower! The branch had no flower when I brought it inside. How does a broken branch produce a flower?!
This actually happened the same day Mariposa came home from the office with me. An extremely surprising day!
A colleague asked if it was putting out roots, because then I could end up with another plant. Apparently this is how people grow plants from cuttings. At that point I couldn't see anything, but I topped up the water and enjoyed the flower.
Flowers.
Because it has put several more flowers out since that first one. And when my Mum and little sister stayed over for the weekend, we checked again, and yes, it is putting out roots.
So now I need to think about how to pot an accidental new plant, which means I need to GET a new pot, and suddenly I need to name another plant!
Rubratu? Rubratwo? Tworubra? Turubra? Is she a clone or a regeneration? I only expected one Rubra, and yet not there seem to be two of her. And I think one or both intend to be inside plants. Which was not in the plan.
Not that any of this greenness was in the plan. Or even on purpose. It all kind of just happened.
I never expected to have a green year. Never expected it could make me this baffled, and happy. And keep surprising me with newness all the time.
And I wonder what colour next year will be!
And yet, this year is the colour green.
I have moved interstate when I had expected to be moving overseas. My new home has a garden, and it baffles me that things grow without any help or hindrance from me. Because someone else (or several other people) have established the garden in previous years, plants occasionally burst forth and I have no idea what they are until someone else recognises a photo I show them. Usually after mystery plants have started flowering.
 |
| The garden at the beginning of May, before it rained for a few weeks. |
 |
| Mystery plants emerging... |
 |
| Turned out to be these bluebells! |
I had to have someone come and tell me which green things were weeds and which were garden plants. And then it rained and rained and everything grew before I could get the weeds out and a swath of proper garden plants burst up and I could no longer even see the weeds to pull them out!
I like gardens - other people's gardens. Life and growth and beauty. I don't like getting dirty, and I don't like making life or death decisions about plants. But I do like being able to see the garden from the lounge/dining room in my new home, to watch it change over the weeks and months, to see the birds and kangaroos and even rabbits visit.
But there is so much more to this year's greenness.
My grandparents, Mum, and youngest sister came interstate early this year for a Begonia festival about two hours away from where I live, so I joined them. I had no idea what begonias were before that, and must admit to still being a bit baffled, because there were so many different ones and I have no idea what they have in common!
Two months later I visited a church market nearby, just out of curiosity to see what they had for sale, and I bought two jams and a jar of lemon curd. Yum. On my way out I walked through the plants, and one with very unusual light orange flowers caught my eye. I read the label, discovered it was a begonia, thought of my grandmother who had been disappointed at not being able to buy a begonia at the festival, and ended up leaving with the first plant I have ever bought for myself.
 |
| Rehoming Rubra |
Since the plant is an orange rubra begonia, I named it Rubra. I am perhaps the person most baffled by this acquisition, although everyone who knows me has been completely surprised and rather amused, but I had no idea what else was about to happen.
The next weekend my church had a trading table. And I came home with two succulents. Who also received names: Beanie and Fly Girl, after characters in a song by the Cat Empire (best band in the world).
 |
| Fly Girl |
 |
| Beanie |
A week passed with no new plant acquisitions. A second week. I thought the phase had run its course.
And friends asked me to look after their plants while they were out of the country for a month. A month! They actually like gardening, and have quite a large collection of indoor and outdoor plants. The responsibility! If they weren't leaving within a few days, and hadn't already asked a bunch of much more garden-minded people, I would never have agreed, and yet...
We all survived, and at least one plant flowered, which was rather lovely.
Another month passed without any change to my collection of pot plants. I travelled interstate, back home, and when I bought some new clothes, found myself drawn to the greens in the shop, buying a green knitted jumper and a long sleeved green top. And found myself wearing green and purple more than blue for possibly the first time in my adult life.
And then in August I acquired a plant, one I'd never heard of before, because some colleagues brought in a collection of little plants grown from cuttings of one in their garden. A white gaura, which apparently has flowers like butterflies, and so Mariposa joined Rubra, Beanie and Fly Girl.
 |
| Mariposa |
A few more weeks passed, and I decided it was time to finally get potting mix so I could repot Rubra into the lovely glazed blue pot I had bought for her. So I went to the local nursery, got potting mix, found some lovely matching pots for Beanie and Fly Girl, had a quick look around, and bought TWO MORE PLANTS!!! Two lovely little plants both native to the area I am living in, one which had stunning little purple flowers, and one which promised blue flowers. Which meant I also bought a second potting mix, and two more pots for when they needed repotting.
 |
| Identity crisis: Susan, Maria, Marliya? |
 |
| Maybe Sky, maybe Marliya |
Naming gets harder, not easier. And so these two haven't quite settled into their own names yet. I had initially been thinking Maria (emphasis on the last 'a', from another Cat Empire song) and Sky (also a Cat Empire reference), but one is called 'Black-eyed Susan' on its label and keeping Susan would pair with Rubra's name. And then another song got stuck in my head, Marliya from the album Spinifex Gum.
So now I am waiting for them to reveal their full identities to me. For them to show me their names. And I feel more nervous for them than any of the others, because while I know people who have successfully grown begonias and succulents and even the gaura, no one else has these two in their gardens. I have trodden on new soil, old soil, and the world is all mystery and magic. And the hope is all the sharper for it.
But even this is not the end of the green story!
A few months back Rubra lost a branch, with beautiful bright glossy leaves. It broke off, and when I found it in the morning I couldn't just throw it away. So I brought it inside, put it in a jar of water, and enjoyed the temporary joy of it in my lounge room. I expected to return from my trip interstate to find it wilted, at which point I would put it in the garden to decompose/compost.
Imagine my surprise when I turned the glass jar around one day to find a flower! The branch had no flower when I brought it inside. How does a broken branch produce a flower?!
This actually happened the same day Mariposa came home from the office with me. An extremely surprising day!
A colleague asked if it was putting out roots, because then I could end up with another plant. Apparently this is how people grow plants from cuttings. At that point I couldn't see anything, but I topped up the water and enjoyed the flower.
Flowers.
Because it has put several more flowers out since that first one. And when my Mum and little sister stayed over for the weekend, we checked again, and yes, it is putting out roots.
So now I need to think about how to pot an accidental new plant, which means I need to GET a new pot, and suddenly I need to name another plant!
Rubratu? Rubratwo? Tworubra? Turubra? Is she a clone or a regeneration? I only expected one Rubra, and yet not there seem to be two of her. And I think one or both intend to be inside plants. Which was not in the plan.
Not that any of this greenness was in the plan. Or even on purpose. It all kind of just happened.
I never expected to have a green year. Never expected it could make me this baffled, and happy. And keep surprising me with newness all the time.
And I wonder what colour next year will be!
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