Pawpaw and honey
Apr. 9th, 2011 04:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
marinessSo earlier today I ended up with very heavy pawpaw on my lap.
Pawpaw is the sole food of the zebra swallowtail butterfly, a butterfly who demonstrates the importance of eating a varied diet, because if, like the zebra swallowtail butterfly, you don't, you will find your entire existence threatened by people who don't much care for pawpaws on the basis that they are not, if we are to be wholly truthful, the most beautiful plants in Florida. They do, however, grow in shade and occasionally have fruit, so between that and the butterfly food part, we decided to get two of them at the Spring into the Garden event this morning. Which is about when we discovered another minor problem with the pawpaw tree (or, in this particular case, very scrawny bush): they are HEAVY.
More specifically, the stuff that they are packed in weighs a ton and leaks all over your thankfully very cheap pants. This is because to protect the roots the new little pawpaw plants have to be very tightly packed in wet heavy sand. I may not have mentioned the heaviness. My brother couldn't carry one and push me, so, into my lap they went.
If they die, I am SO TAKING THIS personally.
We also picked up another rose bush – this one purple, and before certain people object, purple is a very cheerful color. I admit it won't precisely match with the deep red, pink, peach and yellow roses out there (assuming the yellow roses agree that life isn't a bad thing, after all, something they seem to be ambivalent about right now). And some mint, on the basis that mint is easy to grow and even I can't kill it (we will have peppermint, spearmint and catmint eventually).
The only slight annoyance was the honey. A certain evil person namedtithenai (who not incidentally has a beautiful book out called The Honey Month which all of you should be buying and reading right now with the warning that reading will leave you with a decided craving for honey and poetry. I'm not saying this is a bad thing) has forced me – forced me, I tell you – to explore more and different types of honey. Most of the time, this is from a local honey maker, Winter Park Honey, who were also around today, but this time I decided to try a different person, who was selling something called Star Thistle honey in a little teddy bear bottle. How could I resist?
"Do you want a taste? Do you want a taste?" he kept asking.
I didn't want a taste, as I told him; I just wanted the honey. The star thistle and the tupelo. He kept asking me to taste; I kept asking for the honey.
Alas, once I was home, I realized that he had given me the star thistle and the key lime. I'm not exactly against key lime, but I'm not fond of key lime honey. Which means I will want to get rid of it, quickly. Which probably means cooking with it, tomorrow. Life sometimes has its hard moments, doesn't it?
Pawpaw is the sole food of the zebra swallowtail butterfly, a butterfly who demonstrates the importance of eating a varied diet, because if, like the zebra swallowtail butterfly, you don't, you will find your entire existence threatened by people who don't much care for pawpaws on the basis that they are not, if we are to be wholly truthful, the most beautiful plants in Florida. They do, however, grow in shade and occasionally have fruit, so between that and the butterfly food part, we decided to get two of them at the Spring into the Garden event this morning. Which is about when we discovered another minor problem with the pawpaw tree (or, in this particular case, very scrawny bush): they are HEAVY.
More specifically, the stuff that they are packed in weighs a ton and leaks all over your thankfully very cheap pants. This is because to protect the roots the new little pawpaw plants have to be very tightly packed in wet heavy sand. I may not have mentioned the heaviness. My brother couldn't carry one and push me, so, into my lap they went.
If they die, I am SO TAKING THIS personally.
We also picked up another rose bush – this one purple, and before certain people object, purple is a very cheerful color. I admit it won't precisely match with the deep red, pink, peach and yellow roses out there (assuming the yellow roses agree that life isn't a bad thing, after all, something they seem to be ambivalent about right now). And some mint, on the basis that mint is easy to grow and even I can't kill it (we will have peppermint, spearmint and catmint eventually).
The only slight annoyance was the honey. A certain evil person named
tithenai (who not incidentally has a beautiful book out called The Honey Month which all of you should be buying and reading right now with the warning that reading will leave you with a decided craving for honey and poetry. I'm not saying this is a bad thing) has forced me – forced me, I tell you – to explore more and different types of honey. Most of the time, this is from a local honey maker, Winter Park Honey, who were also around today, but this time I decided to try a different person, who was selling something called Star Thistle honey in a little teddy bear bottle. How could I resist?"Do you want a taste? Do you want a taste?" he kept asking.
I didn't want a taste, as I told him; I just wanted the honey. The star thistle and the tupelo. He kept asking me to taste; I kept asking for the honey.
Alas, once I was home, I realized that he had given me the star thistle and the key lime. I'm not exactly against key lime, but I'm not fond of key lime honey. Which means I will want to get rid of it, quickly. Which probably means cooking with it, tomorrow. Life sometimes has its hard moments, doesn't it?
(no subject)
Date: 2011-04-11 10:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-04-11 11:12 pm (UTC)