For the 25 years I’ve lived in this house, I’ve wanted Bougainvillea climbing onto and spreading out across the white railing of our bedroom balcony, brilliant against the blue stucco. I’ve bought potted ones twice and failed dismally to keep them alive.
Actually they tried to steer me away from the one I wanted, because it was puny, just one branch really. But I liked the color so I stuck to my guns. That was over two weeks ago. Here it is after it was planted. (To be honest, all the blooms have fallen off since this was taken, even though there’s plenty of new growth. Our friends say I’m either overwatering or underwatering it.)
Here’s the Bougainvillea in context. Remember the little quad we fixed up at the end of the walk? (“Beauty in small spaces,” July 11)
If this one dies, I can console myself with the fact that at least I have learned how to spell Bougainvillea. Who knew it starts with a capital and has all those extra letters in it?
As for our avocado pitling (“Avocado,” June 21, July 7, 8), its leaves are green again and it has grown an inch and a half. But when I told my friend I’d pinched off the top two leaves she looked at me, speechless with shock, for several seconds and then asked slowly, “Why did you do that?” “A website told me to.” “The new growth?” “It said it would make the tree bushier.” “You can top it when it’s full-grown.” “I guess I shouldn’t have done it the minute we put it in the ground.”
I prayed for it and now I note it has at least one tiny bud-possibility where the littlest leaves were. Maybe it’s going to risk trusting me again. Poor baby.