Sampaguita flowers by the handful

I remember a some-one giving me three living stems of sampaguita from her mother's garden, the narrow bodies of lemon grass, and young roots of pandan in 2002. My rooftop room was barely built. The narrow leges were filled with sawdust. I thought, if I could not grow love here, I'd grow the plants of love.

It is pretty much a Witches Garden. My first inspiration was a Wiccan Handbook that had a few pages on the symbolisms and uses of certain herbs. It is definitely a Kitchen Garden filled with so many delicious smells. All are plants for the self. All are plants of love.

Those were the beginnings of my gardening on the narrow spaces of my rooftop. After four years of gardening, I have sampaguitas, jasmine, rosemary, purple basil, thai basil, italian basil, mexican oregano, arugula, lavander, dill, sage, tarragon, flat leaf parsley, garlic chives, a laurel tree i call Wife Poetry and a pomegranate shrub I call Husband Death.

Gardening taught me patience, foresight, and how to cook Italian. Gardening also taught me that everything needs shit to grow.

The sampaguitas are sprawling over the terracotta tile. The lemon grass is a huge monster head near the sage, enough for stuffing chicken every now end then. All the lovely lovely herbs enough for two to four people for dinner every two weeks.

Tonight, taking flowers from these lovely branches was like picking little heavens from low branches. The pure white smell in the cold evening air makes me feel like a truly accomplished human being. I take a handful for my Mother's altar, a handful for my Father's altar and a handful for my own altar.

Snipping a few sprigs for herbs for pasta, lamb, pork and potatoes is trancendental.

I follow three simple rules: Water twice a day. Fertilize every fifteen days. Thank the plants for their wisdom.

I have a different herb dealer now and his name is Ryan and he has a stall in the Manila Seedling bank. :)