My poor mint plant died during the move. My one big casualty. Mint is usually so hardy you can't kill it if you want to, but this little spearmint plant never did do what it should have. I want to replace it, and decided to stop on the way home at the Garden Factory and pick up a new one. The sky was overcast when I entered their huge store and greenhouses, a few raindrops splattering against the windshield. Drew elected to stay in the car (texting I suspect) while I ran my simple errand.
No sooner had I entered the building than the sky was rent in two and a forceful deluge let loose. It was rather exciting what with all that water pounding down on us. You could hardly hear yourself think in the greenhouse - I have never heard such an echoing drumming sound like that. Here and there the water managed to make its way inside, creating little puddles about on the blacktop. Sheets of water curtained the glass walls, making you feel as if you were in an underwater tunnel.
For awhile I wandered slowly about, more interested in the rain than finding a mint plant, but then I realized that the majority of the greenhouse was empty. While there were a few fall mums available, most of the rest of their stock was gone. No houseplants. No herbs. Bummer. Maybe they moved them inside. Not willing to dash through the waterfall shower outside, I made a circuitous route around the perimeter of the huge complex. Not an herb in sight, not even a packet of seeds. Talk about out of season! All I could find were fall bright orange and gaudy yellow red leaved wreaths and door decor. Not my cup of tea.
I gawked a bit longer, reticent to brave the elements, but tiredness won out, and I texted Drew to pull up to the front door. Despite the 2 second dash into the car, I was drenched. The rain was coming down so fast that the parking lot was a standing pool of inches deep water. As we headed toward home, the water ran down my back, trickling in rivulets to the seat. Half a mile down the road, the rain let up to a steady normal rain, then a fine mist. By the time we reached home, not a sign of rain existed. The driveway pavement was bone dry, the sun was shining, the grass was without a drop of water.
How strange just a few miles can make! From deluge to drought in a few thousand feet. Interesting.
No sooner had I entered the building than the sky was rent in two and a forceful deluge let loose. It was rather exciting what with all that water pounding down on us. You could hardly hear yourself think in the greenhouse - I have never heard such an echoing drumming sound like that. Here and there the water managed to make its way inside, creating little puddles about on the blacktop. Sheets of water curtained the glass walls, making you feel as if you were in an underwater tunnel.
For awhile I wandered slowly about, more interested in the rain than finding a mint plant, but then I realized that the majority of the greenhouse was empty. While there were a few fall mums available, most of the rest of their stock was gone. No houseplants. No herbs. Bummer. Maybe they moved them inside. Not willing to dash through the waterfall shower outside, I made a circuitous route around the perimeter of the huge complex. Not an herb in sight, not even a packet of seeds. Talk about out of season! All I could find were fall bright orange and gaudy yellow red leaved wreaths and door decor. Not my cup of tea.
I gawked a bit longer, reticent to brave the elements, but tiredness won out, and I texted Drew to pull up to the front door. Despite the 2 second dash into the car, I was drenched. The rain was coming down so fast that the parking lot was a standing pool of inches deep water. As we headed toward home, the water ran down my back, trickling in rivulets to the seat. Half a mile down the road, the rain let up to a steady normal rain, then a fine mist. By the time we reached home, not a sign of rain existed. The driveway pavement was bone dry, the sun was shining, the grass was without a drop of water.
How strange just a few miles can make! From deluge to drought in a few thousand feet. Interesting.
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