We Plant, Robert.

These must be the irises Plottie bought in Williamsburg last summer. That old-fashioned nursery's bulbs have done better than any others that Plot has ever seen. These purple beauties are half again as tall and a deeper color than the native ones everyone seems to have in Saint Plotniko.



Plotnik plants plants, or said in Traditional Plotnikkish: Plants, Plotnik plants. He plants anything he can get his hands on, whether or not it stands a chance in a Saint Plotniko garden whose summers have nothing to do with where the little plantie grew up.

This is an Oregon dwarf blueberry. His brother is next to him. Plot found the two at Costco and they'd just come in so they looked pretty healthy. Maybe he'll get a blueberry or two out of his investment, and maybe not, but right now they look pretty darned nice.

Plotnik should have been a gentleman farmer. But he had to be a gentleman first.