Bamboo Shopping

Last Saturday, the day before Easter, we didn't have Coffeehouse, so Flamingo Joe decided we should go shop for bamboo. He found the farthest bamboo grower he could find and we drove out to the guy's place in Brooksville to do some serious perusing of the bamboo. Flamingo Joe has a thing for bamboo. I'm not sure why. I like it fine, but it's really just sticks growing out of the ground straight up into the sky. Unless you have a panda around to eat it, I'm not sure what the point is, but it's not something I feel so strongly about that I would forego an hour's drive in the car with my husband's undivided attention. I believe car trips are the key to a strong and healthy marriage because your husband can't walk out of the room while you're talking to him about deep and meaningful topics.

Once we got there and saw all the bamboo, the whole family got into the bamboo-buying spirit (if there is such a thing).

The boys decided they wanted to buy the toilet with the ducks in it.

"Ma, ma, ma, buy 'dat to'let. Buy ducks!" Instead, we bought this pot of bamboo:

(If you're having trouble seeing the single stick of bamboo we bought for $50, start at the bottom of the photo in the pot and work your way up).

Flamingo Joe (and Mace) followed the bamboo guy's precise instructions for preparing the earth for the bamboo stick and dug this hole, into which they will put kitty litter, cow manure, and lots of organic material and dirt:

What's funny about that hole is that it is much deeper and wider than the hole where we planted our last bamboo stick, which is growing like gangbusters out by the boat. But there's a dead dog buried underneath that one -- so I guess if you provide that much organic material it can make up for a shallow hole. Seems like there might be a sermon in that somewhere. Maybe Flamingo Joe and I can discuss that on our next car trip.