I have a selective memory.
If I select to remember something, I have several options. I can write things down, and then try to remember where I placed the notes. I can review my innermost thoughts by reading my journal. Sometimes my sister takes it upon herself to remind me of things I might just assume forget.
So far, my selective memory and I have survived just fine, thank you very much.
Recently, Facebook has decided to give me friendly reminders from my past. For the most part, this is mildly enjoyable. I understand the social media giant is trying to keep it real, keep it lively and find new ways to sneak advertisements into my daily life. But really?
This week I received a collage from four years ago that reminded me that I looked a lot better when I was 10 pounds lighter. Facebook also sent me several images of my garden from before the drought. Is there a correlation? Did I buy fewer boxes of Girl Scout cookies when I was busy working in my beautiful garden.
In one series of images the very thin Heather is in Las Vegas with Uncle Bob and Auntie Joanne. We posed in front of the dessert buffet at the El Dorado. We posed with the rubber chicken in front of the “Pawn Stars” storefront.
My takeaway from all of this is that I really need to send Uncle Bob and Aunt Joanne a long, soulful correspondence. Maybe I’ll bake them some cookies.
Yet, what if the Facebook algorithm had provided a flashback to a time better forgotten? What if I suddenly had doubts about my career path, questioned my sanity or relived personal trauma? Could I call in sick and tell the boss I was suffering from Facebook-flashback-itis?
I’ll try not to worry too much about any of this. Before we know it, Facebook will have moved on to the next new thing.
Thank you Facebook, for reminding me why I love gardening and how much I have missed it.
Two years ago I left the little home and garden where I had lived for two decades. My new house is directly next door.
Over that time, the empty places in the yard have grown, due to drought and the fact that the new renters are not gardeners.
Those flashback Facebook photos reminded me that with a lot of work, the world can be beautiful again.
After just one season of nearly-normal rainfall, the sage is blooming in that yard next door, as are the roses. Wild viola is already moving in to areas where other plants have died.
I’m tempted to dig up some plants from the yard. Yet, last time I tried that I was caught.
The jasmine next door also bloomed as if it had been restrained for the past four years.
This reminded me that the jasmine is actually on both sides of our yards.
Last year I tried to take cuttings. I found a long list of instructions, some of which I followed. This included buying and using rooting hormones.
Nothing happened. The cuttings died.
Now I’m trying again. Instead of actually cutting the plants, I’m taking a long tendril that looks like it was going to grow roots on its own. I placed the portion of the plant with the mini roots into a pot filled with soil. This portion of the jasmine vine is still connected to the mother plant.
Once there are more roots, I’ll snip the connection of baby to mother.
We’ll see. I’ve had good luck with this method for Dusty Miller.