Finally got out of the garden, and have amused myself doodling.
Mask Creatures II
My last act in the yard was to move the oakleaf hydrangea. It’s been sitting outside in a pot since I picked it up on a whim from a farmer’s market last fall. I had planned to use it as one of the main shrubs in the new border, but I noticed that the deer had been at it again. I had originally thought that maybe the deer were just attacking because food is scarce this winter, but then I stopped and thought…hadn’t this happened last fall, too?
I went on-line, and sure enough, oakleaf hydrangea are one of the favored munchies of the deer.
Well, poo.
Into the fenced backyard it had to go. I can hopefully find a nice spot for it–although drainage is so awful back there, it limits my options, and hydrangeas hate wet feet–and at least all that deer pruning last fall means it’s covered in buds. So I slogged out, reached down, grabbed the pot, and lifted, expecting all the resistance of a gallon sized pot with dirt in it.
The pot stayed put. My feet, on the wet grass, did not. There was a teetering moment when I nearly went ass over teakettle into the dirt, I caught myself on one knee, sliced my finger open on the plastic rim of the pot, and stared, bloody and bewildered, at the hydrangea.
The hydrangea indicated that I should go away.
I got my feet under me, grabbed the rim of the pot, and hauled.
Roots ripped. Apparently, deer notwithstanding, this was where the hydrangea wanted to be. Two very large roots had punched out of the bottom of the pot and settled themselves deeply into the dirt.
The hydrangea indicated that it was happy where it was, it was constructing a small thermonuclear device for the deer, and I should go about my business. I had seen nothing. Nothing.
It was immediately obvious that the roots weren’t staying with the hydrangea–I could cut a weaker pot off (and have occasionally) but this was serious heavy plastic and would require the dremel or something, and anyway, the plant was MOCKING ME.
I threw my weight into it. The plant grumbled but finally released the dirt. Staggering slightly, I hauled the hydrangea into the backyard.
It’ll be much happier back here where it’s not getting eaten. And it’s an excuse to pick up another shrub at Niche Gardens.
