Houseguests can be ingrates. Once, I invited an asparagus family to the garden, and the whole clan stalked away. Perhaps my hostess skills need some work.
Apparently to make asparagus feel at home, you have to cultivate loose soil, deep trenches and patience. So this summer, years after my first fail, I fluffed a comfy bed and opened a sack of "crowns," which is to say roots. Each looks like a small, dehydrated octopus. I spread the tentacles, sprinkled dirt and practiced patience.
Which was unnecessary. Days later, a row of slim, green aliens stood at attention. I offered drinks, snacks and encouragement. The stalks swayed, silent in their pointed hats. I hope that means they like it here.
If so, I'll harvest an edible crop _ in three years. Until then, I'm picking zucchini.
