I have officially given up on my Kimberly Ferns. Yes, they were filling in as evidenced in earlier posts (see http://gardeningalabama.blogspot.com/2011/04/kimberly-ferns.html ), however the process was just taking too long and I chose to reuse the pots and soil to display other plants in better shape.
My Boston Ferns on the other hand are doing spectacularly and have to be trimmed almost every other week. Guess that bird poop is still working it. lol!
Showing posts with label Kimberly Ferns. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kimberly Ferns. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Kimberly Ferns
I'm always amazed at the the things I see when I visit a Master Gardener at home. About a week ago, a friend of mine decided to divide her humungous Kimberly Ferns and give pieces away. Luckily for me, she had my number.
So the kids and I get there just when she was wrapping up surgery. I don't know how I always imagine the total opposite of what's going on, but when she said fern, I pictured lush greenery. What I saw was a brown rootball that had been disected with a reciprocating saw and couldn't tell head from tail. I didn't want to express doubt that the victims were still alive, so thankfully without any prompting my friend assured me that once I planted them (didn't matter which way), they would come back. Ok, I figured I didn't have anything to lose.
The kids and I came home and potted two pieces. My little helpers had a great time wearing my old gloves, scooping soil and dumping it in every pot they could reach. After salvaging soil from the garage floor and two little monkeys, I set the ferns in the corner of the garage and forgot about them.
To my pleasant surprise yesterday, I peeked over and noticed two tiny little fronds emerging from their sea of brown. I grabbed the hubby to show him, and in classic form he asked me if they're weeds. Sorry hon, they're a little bigger today and they're most definately ferns! What do husbands know anyway?
So the kids and I get there just when she was wrapping up surgery. I don't know how I always imagine the total opposite of what's going on, but when she said fern, I pictured lush greenery. What I saw was a brown rootball that had been disected with a reciprocating saw and couldn't tell head from tail. I didn't want to express doubt that the victims were still alive, so thankfully without any prompting my friend assured me that once I planted them (didn't matter which way), they would come back. Ok, I figured I didn't have anything to lose.
The kids and I came home and potted two pieces. My little helpers had a great time wearing my old gloves, scooping soil and dumping it in every pot they could reach. After salvaging soil from the garage floor and two little monkeys, I set the ferns in the corner of the garage and forgot about them.
To my pleasant surprise yesterday, I peeked over and noticed two tiny little fronds emerging from their sea of brown. I grabbed the hubby to show him, and in classic form he asked me if they're weeds. Sorry hon, they're a little bigger today and they're most definately ferns! What do husbands know anyway?
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