When I got home from work Monday night, Fatemeh said, “There’s an herb growing out there on the patio.”
“A what?” I asked.
“An herb,” she said. “I don’t know what kind it is, but Stella tried to eat it.”
Sure enough, when I went out to water the containers, there it was, grown big enough that it was more than a mouthful for Stella, the tiny French bulldog. I pinched off a leaf and smelled it to be sure, but it was, most definitely, a slightly fuzzy clump of sage.
Of course, unlike the rest of the plants, which are growing in relatively expensive, allegedly good soil, this sage plant is growing in some sandy, tiny dirt that separates our patio stones from each other. I’ve never watered it, nor even given it any attention until today.
“Unbelievable,” I said when I got in from watering. “It’s the most successful plant out there.”
We’re leaving it and seeing how much it’ll grow. After all, the sage in the container garden continues to grow in a stunted, sorry manner, so why mess with the one real success outside?