Carmela's is by far the best outfit I've ordered plants from. The plants come well-packed, of good size, and have done the best long-term in my collection. Eoom is next--wish their selection was bigger--followed by v.coerulea on ebay, then Carter and Holmes, whose stuff is small and young for the pot size. Alia

Michelle, The cacuchas have just sprouted, so they're tiny, but will do well! They are wonderfully flavored mild chiles, very productive. I did find out that if you want to keep them growing year after year you must plant fresh seeds. They don't stay viable for long. Maybe I would grow a Russian sage if you have a little one. Pamela, one Siam Ruby for you. I see you were on the list, but didn't know you had already paid Lisa for it, and hadn't heard from you. See you Sunday.

Hester, Thanks for posting those pictures. That sure didn't take you very long! :) Your COTS are so pretty. I have a large red and medium-sized, medium dark pink - the flowers look almost pinkish-red. They both came from Home Depot. Nothing as glamorous or garden bling as yours. (Like that term, "garden bling", do you?) I've read about the hybrids being a little more fussy and difficult - and also requiring more water and being harder to root. It is very kind and most generous of you to offer to pick some up for me at the Tropiflora sale, but don't do that. It will be about the same cost for me to mail order and then it won't use up your time and effort to buy, package and ship. And much more importantly, I know that your hands will be full of your own purchases at Tropiflora and I don't want you burdened down shlepping around extra stuff for me. (Not that you shlep!) I found some nice-looking ones online at Bob Smoley's Gardenworld (link below). I am looking at 'Tickled Pink', 'Pretty in Pink', 'Appleblossom', 'Festival' and 'Tuti-Fruity'. Do you have any of those? Thanks and hugs! Carol Here is a link that might be useful: Bob Smoley's Gardenworld - EUPHORBIAS

This is a great post Kristi. I spent my childhood summers in the Panhandle, wandering the farm and scrub my grandparents bought after they sold their place outside Plant City. Dad always said that a tiny little place called Springhead just got too crowded for my grandfather, though when we would go visit the rest of the family there, the dirt roads, orange groves and woods never seemed terribly crowded to a city kid. But my grandfather was one of those people who really enjoyed being able to fend for himself, and was very good at it. He could look at deer tracks in sand and not just say whether it was a male or a female, but if the female was pregnant, just by the way her tracks splayed. My brother and I caught a lot of catfish in his ponds, sitting around swatting mosquitoes and watching a bobber at the end of a cane pole for hours, and loving it. My father, born and raised in Florida, still walks around city streets looking down all the time. Mom says he's looking for snakes. My grandparents were of the generation who came of age during the Depression, both born in rural Florida. My grandmother always said they didn't feel the Depression like people up north did (Yankees, as she referred to them) because they had never been rich, and because they had vegetable gardens so they never went hungry, before, during or after. I think the truth was that the South she was born into was so poor, it couldn't get much poorer when banks they had no money in anyway collapsed. When she was still alive and I was living in Jensen Beach, I used to talk to her every weekend about my efforts at gardening. She knew so much about what we now call organic or sustainable gardening because she had never thrown out an eggshell or the morning's coffee grounds. The nutrients those represented were vital to her work feeding her family on this poor soil. She also wouldn't have considered wasting precious well-water on the grass. Her father was a share-cropper and waste-not want-not was taught early on. She knew things that just blow my mind, like how to make soap, how to quilt intricate and time-honored patterns and how to skin and cook just about anything. She was just 11 years old during the flu epidemic of 1918-1919, and was the only person in her family who didn't come down with it (she had had malaria and polio, so she did get her share of pestilence. Florida still had malaria back then.) She told me several times a lovely story about the flu epidemic. She was a little girl struggling to keep everyone fed, with the adults and her older siblings sick. And the cat brought in a rabbit. And she felt terrible about doing it, but she took the rabbit away from the cat and skinned it and made stew. She said after that, the cat brought her everything she could catch, lizards, snakes, frogs. The backyard wildlife was apparently devastated by the sweet mama cat's desire to help out in a clearly dire situation. I've always thought of that story when my silly cat brings a lizard into the house. He's just trying to help feed the family. My mother-in-law didn't feel quite so charitable about his overwhelming instincts. She grew up in cities, the child of Jewish Polish immigrants fleeing persecution. So when she was visiting and we were both at work and the cat brought in a snake, she wasn't thrilled. She was as resourceful as you would expect from someone of her generation, however. She knows nothing about snakes or which ones might be poisonous. So she grabbed a cookpot and turned it upside down over the poor creature, trapping it in the living room for us to inspect and dispense with. (caveat, the cat wears a bell now so he's not such a danger. it seems that only lizards and butterflies are unable to hear it because he hasn't caught a bird or snake or frog since I put it on him.) My father, a journalist like me, got my grandmother to write her "memoirs" after my grandfather died. He mostly wanted to give her a project to help her occupy herself after spending a lifetime caring for him as he cared for her. But he also wanted to make sure that some of her wit and wisdom wasn't lost. And she left me a lovely book, including recipes for things like hoe cake (traditionally, the dough was sent out into the fields and cooked up over a fire on a hoe. but you can do it in an iron skillet.) There is so much wisdom we have lost and forgotten from her generation, stuff we're trying to recover now after we've finally discovered that fertilizer and bread that can keep for weeks because it's full of chemicals aren't the answer to everything. Wish she were here to tell us how she did it. Susannah