Darren's got to be one of the most weedy and ill looking from my brood. He's all crumpled and sad. I've tried giving him love and affection and water and more love, but its having no affect, he's just the garlic version of a cripple. Maybe he peaked too soon, maybe I put to much pressure on him to succeed. I am a bad father.
On ther other hand, the other kids are doing swell.
The Twins have multiplied, each tub somehow having two sprouty chaps growing, and although they started kind of slowly, they're all tall and strong now.
Sharon, that blessed little hussy is doing, dare I say it, better than the twins too, she's sheltered away on the other side of my windowledge, although not quite as tall as the twins, she seems more wholesome and friendlier.
Out on ground level in the wee bit of dirt we call the garden, there's a herd of garlic who are doing okay, their leaved have been nibbled on a wee bit by passing insects, but I'm thinking as they have more root space, they'll survive and thrive and will feed me well in the months to come.
The potatos are doing great too, the wee sprouty chaps who I saw the other week have grown and grown. They're all healthy, and no signs of nibbling, although I am concerned that these chaps are going to need more rioot space, and at some point I'll have to transfer them out of the box and into the ground with nibbly beasties.
Ah well.
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