(2016-03-02) Gardening
Gardening
Summary: Seeds are sowed by the poet and musician
Date: 3.2.2016
Related: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank. You have to use full URLs, like http://mushname.wikidot.com/logtitle)
Players:
quinton..pied-piper..

Another warm clear day is upon the camp and lots of things are going now that the two groups have come to a temporary agreement at least. There are a couple of guys on the other side of the roof, checking out the solar panels and seeing what needs to be done to get them working again. And further in the distance can be heard a bit of construction as the defensive perimeter is made more secure.

On the patio though is an array of pots and planters ready and waiting to be filled with dirt and the seeds of plant life. A wheelbarrow full of dirt is on hand as well. Piper stands at a table, sorting through her large jar of bagged and dried herbs, spices and seeds (given to her long ago by Harmony), the seeds are set aside while the other stuff goes back into the jar.

Ah yes, Harmony will be missed much this spring. Quin tries to not think about it, because if he does he has to fight the urge to go look for her. Surely she went off trying to get that farm. And now she's happy planting seeds there.

The noise of busy life seems to be doing the poet well, and while he's not gotten a single name right today, he's at least saying names. He's stepping over to see what seeds Piper has, his own stash in the backpack he sets on the table and opens. "I figured we could have everyone take…" He motions with his hand to the table and it's seeds, "Little of everything. So if one person sucks…not all of…one thing will be gone."

Piper is doing just as poorly today as she was doing well yesterday. When Quinton approaches full of words she looks up at him, her expression pretty flat as far as that goes. All the little baggies are labeled properly with their contents, mostly herbs for both cooking and medicines, also there are the packs of seeds they found yesterday. All put the watermelon is suitable for pots at least. "Right." she says the one syllable easily enough and she taps her temple to indicate its a good idea. Picking up a trowel she hands it over to him "Show." when it comes to plants she is better and IDing them, knowing what they are good for and preparing them for that, then the planting and growing part. She's clueless when it comes to that.

Quinton likes plants, he's not great with them, but he usually doesn't murder them. His flannel comes off so he doesn't get it dirty, well, dirtier and he then takes stock of what they have. "Spices and herbs last, those aren't….needed." When the cooking gets bland they are! Instead he'll point at the tomato seeds with the trowel. "…easy, usually, to grow. Will be good….vitamins.." They have enough protein, certainly! Quin asks, "Want me….dig and you place?"

Her brow furrows slightly as she looks from him to the array of seeds and she does a quick sorting of those "Med…medi..med…" yeah it isn't coming out so she just sticks with "Are." are needed maybe, but since there is no real reason why they still can't plant the tomatoes first. Her first hint of smile comes when he mentions vitamins instead of just how good it would be to eat a fresh veggie instead of canned. She picks up the pack, flipping it over to scan the planting instructions on the back "Yes." it sounds like a good a plan as any.

Well, Quin's not really knowledgeable in that stuff, beyond mint makes his tunny feel better. And really, that should be Eli's job. The hint of a smile has him throwing one back at her, "Good…we'll…team it." He starts setting a few of the pots up, filling them with the appropriate dirts and stuffs.

Before they get started a pony tail holder is pulled out and her mass of hair is secured so it doesn't get in the way of their work. She really needs to get one of the girls to return it's braids.

"Good. Team." she states, at least she isn't in a totally negative head space today. The gardening part may be new to her, city girl that she is, put Piper can hold a pot like a champ, which she does so he can fill them up with dirt quicker. Propping it on the lip of the wheelbarrow she smooths the dirt down "Packed?"

Quinton's head shakes, "No…Well, not much." He's not very good at instructing, but luckily that's not too important to this. He eyes her hair and then smiles, "Do you like it?"

Piper nods going with the no much instruction instead of the no. Tapping down the dirt so more can fit in. Her now dirty hand goes to lift a curl and bring it so she can look at it, "Yes?" it doesn't sound like she has decided yet, probably still getting used to the lighter color "First." she hefts the now full pot and begins to take it back to the table "You like?"

Like any man, he takes the question about her, weather that's what she meant or not, "I think so…It makes your eyes stand out more. Which is nice." There's a nod, his own floppy very blonde hair sways, "Good…We'll do as many as we can…use most of the seeds…" He does know you should always try to keep some, he read that somewhere.

She hmmms at his answer, stealing a look at her reflection in the club house windows, canting her head a bit to see if she can see what he is talking about. He interpreted the last question right at least, the rest must not have been important enough for her to correct. Piper does eye his own hair and how the his beard is probably darker now and another smile is offered. Then he is pulling her back to their task, she is so distractible today…much like any other day really. "Okay." she rips the corner from the seed packet and pours some of the contents in her hand "How. Many?"

Quinton tells her whatever is the proper answer, having much more of a green thumb than his player. His beard is about grown in again, although it will probably be gone if the weather keeps getting warmer. It makes him look older than his 30 years, not that he needs to feel it with Piper. He worries about the age difference a lot. Not that they really do anything beyond kissing and holding hands. In his mind it's kinda like a middle school relationship….during an apocalypse. "Think we should just tell people to come get them if they want them? Or…assign everyone one?" He's not certain forcing people to garden will be the best option.

If she knew of those concerns Piper could probably alleviate them, though she probably wouldn't point out she is the same age as Harmony (close enough). She doesn't like to remind the poet of her because she knows it agitates him amoung other ones. But she doesn't know so he can just worry about it needlessly. ;) "Tell. Them." she answers picking up a seeds between finger and thumb to drop two in each little hole in the pot he makes for it. Assuming that's what he does. A small gesture is made to him "Family garden?" she pauses a moment then adds "Before." as if that would clarify things more.

Those couple of years though, they make a difference! At least in Quin's head they do! He nods, maybe he'll have Bob tell them. People tend to not listen to the poet so much. Might have something to do with him not getting their names right. Maybe. He pauses, eyes unfocusing at some memory, "No…not me so much. My mom." He blinks and then goes back to planting, "I had a…few plants in my apartment, but nothing edible." He actually has an aloe plant currently in his room now.

"Abuela did." Piper states, slipping easily into Spanish, for the one word at least. She watches him as he continues planting. "Ivy." she supplies after he talks about the plant he had, so maybe that's what she had in her apartment in New York. "Oh. Water." she glances around and quickly empties the large jar of its bags and goes to fill it from the rain barrel in the corner. It's a bit of a feat, she isn't much taller than the rain barrel and the manages to get as much water down the front of her shirt as she does in the jar, but thankfully it is warm enough today that it won't bother her to much,

Quinton keeps planting, but watches her as she suddenly enters a wet t-shirty contest. He blinks and glances away, not even wanting to go down that rabbit hole. There's only cold showers and uncomfortableness there. "You okay?" He'll motion to his flannel if she gets cold. Using his forearm, he rubs his bangs out of his eyes, "Think we should give the other group…pots?"

Well at least it is a dark shirt and not a light one, so there is that saving grace at least. Piper is to busy watering the plants to notice his momentary dilemma though the question has her looking up at him oddly, "Most-ly." she's never answered in that way before, but it pretty much fits her standard not having a good brain day usual answers. The next question has her mulling a few moments and she nods "Yes. To. welcome." she probably means it would make a good welcome to the group offering. The idea has the smile coming back.

Small blessings, especially when she doesn't take the flannel. Quin smirks though, "Welcome to the neighborhood gifts…Better than casseroles." No, it's not. He'd love a casserole abut now. He glances over at their pots, they don't have as many as he'd like, but they'll make due.

Somehow Piper manages to give the newly planted seeds the perfect amount of water, without getting anymore on herself even, and sets the water aside. There is a shake of her head as she gives a chuckle at his words "Pre-fer cook-ies." because that right there is the best welcome gift ever..unless its brownies. "Next?" she holds up a pack of peppers and cilantro…with the tomatoes already planted and those two they would be well on their way to salsa.

Quinton groans, playfully placing a hand on his stomach, "Don't remind me." Only if they plant corn to make chips from! He motions to the peppers, pretty sure that the cilantro has no medical use. "Maybe new people will get power to bar…music there…" He's losing a few words, but he's concentrating on the next batch of pots to get ready.

Okay, maybe she did that one on purpose, whose to know. Giving the packet a shake she opens it and repeats the process, shaking seeds in hand and letting him prepare to pots so she can drop the seeds in and brush a layer of dirt over them "Love. That." all those records in the jukebox, just waiting to be listened too "Dancing…"

Quinton pauses, that brief look of uncertainty returns from yesterday, "You like to dance?" Oh, he's in trouble. Maybe he can feign brain trouble that affects his feet?

Wiping the excess dirt off her hand on her pants she then hand wobbles, "De-pends." apparently there are mitigating factors as to whether she likes it or not "Watch-ing…yes." that's definite, and from the tone it could be she was a closet Dancing with the Stars watcher or a watcher of the various other dancing shows on TV.

Quinton tilts his head, studying her, "Just watching?" He may be saved!

"Sing well and play." wow, that's an understatement but ding, ding the diva's dead…though sometimes the diva ghost haunts her "Dance." she winces and gives a shake of her head. And considering opera singers don't really dance while performing its probably not an exaggeration on her part "Awful." as she explains she is beginning to look curious herself, but doesn't act on it.

Quinton relaxes and nods, "Me too." Well, he doesn't sing or play well either, but she gets what he means. He chuckles, "We can be awful together."

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