About ten years ago, my father moved out of the house I lived in from the age of 12 to 17. When I was 17, I went to Israel for the last semester of High School, and aside from a few summers, I never lived at home again. When Dad moved out, I wanted some memento of the house. So I took a root cutting from the crepe myrtle in the backyard.
I planted the cutting in the backyard, here in Brooklyn and it took right off. Since there's a shorter growing season here, it's taken some time for the tree/bush to mature. It took about 5 years for the bark to start showing the customary silvery bark of crepe myrtles. I've been waiting for the first time the tree would flower.
I was barbecuing tonight and, Yay! The crepe myrtle is flowering. The flowers are a deep blood red and they're pretty fantastic.
The bad news? I haven't been a good gardener this summer. I haven't been any kind of gardener this summer. The crepe myrtle is currently being attacked by the rose bush next to it and by about 12 morning glory vines. So you don't get pictures.
Next year, you'll get glorious photos.
Next Year? I have to fucking wait until next year?
Patience is not exactly my strong suite.
Wow, I did not think it was possible for anything to grow in a Brooklyn backyard. You must be sitting on an exceptionally fertile soil there, Nathan.
Actually, when I bother, I get a great crop of vegetables in my backyard.
Hey, "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn."
It took all day for someone to make that lame comment? So be it. I can do obvious like nobody's bidness.
Coincidentally* your plant was on NPR this afternoon, and they spelled "crepe" wrong! Hah. Libruls.
*Note, if you will, "coincidentally." Not "ironically." Cookie, please.
Crape Myrtles? Holy Shit!
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