A person I know not all that well recently killed himself thereby shocking everybody who knew him. A gentle and quiet soul, nobody sensed anything remote to this coming. There was a lot about the man that I did not know, chief among them his driving interest in plants. I never heard him speak on the subject. This one interest of his overlaps one of my own. I'd like to have some nice potted plants for my own terrace and for them to include the herbs that I use for cooking and a few vegetables too, but also flowers so the whole thing is attractive, but frankly, I do not know what I am doing. I do have a knack for killing pretty much every plant I touch, and my efforts look like a mess. Up close they are a mess. From afar they are the envy of the whole building. People around here say so, "Oh, so you're the guy with the plants on the balcony." But that is only because everybody else is worse, or has no interest at all.
When the friend died I looked through his pinterest page which turns out to be vast. Tons of plants are listed, all of them designer-type container plants. One of the pins said, "This picture is from a book by Pamela Crawford." I looked at her website that links to her YouTube videos. Read a bit, watched a few. I put her name in Abebooks search and bought the first book on potted plants that came up.
Easy Container Combos: Herbs and flowers.
The idea is potted herb gardens can be jazzed up with flowers. The book is filled with ideas about what to keep in mind and how to go about to pull it off successfully.
I read the book last night. It is easy. Lots of pictures. As much a thick magazine as a book. It refers back to her site and to her own products. Profiteering? Possibly, she seems to make everything she talks about readily available. But it looks to me like she is actually trying to make things readily available for beginners to get started right off while profiting from that by the way. The cost of supplies seems reasonable. The impression I get is she learned through mistakes.
This cheers me greatly. That is how I learn.
By making every mistake possible.
More than once.
The reception was held at the dead person's house, a bit eerie being there the first time without him, the place claustrophobically packed with people, only a few of them I knew, but all were in outright awe of his front yard and back yard gardens composed of large planters surrounding the perimeters with every combination of flower, foliage, herb and vegetable known to gardening in striking combinations and in full leafage, full bloom, full fruition all around, bizarre combinations one might not consider unless they were driven, bursting out and pouring over large glazed ceramic containers. I noticed dark eggplants hanging among flowers, and chile plants pendant within non-chile plant foliage, strawberries where strawberries do not belong mixed with non-strawberry plants, and orchids with tons of various types coleus, sweet potato vines, spikey Ti plants jutting up all over the place, upright blooming fiery celosia, large elephant-ear type leafy Caladium leaves boldly suspended in mid air everywhere, fuzzy fennel and dill filling in, begonias all over the place, to name only a few.
