She was my second Annaboto crop. My second harvest, ever! Never tried to grow my own before; too daunting.
Growing both crops was both filled with suspense and delight. The plants changed every day; each morning I’d greet them, ask them how they were doing and take a look around for any concerning little thing. So much fun to look at my timelapsed replay as they got more and sometimes less lush. In the end, both sported a lot of flowers.
It is kind of sad to think about harvest time, an ending, certainly. Before I cut Tangie Angie, I looked around at my other house plants who thrived while she was coming up. My abutilon, who lives right next to the Annaboto, was in peak bloom during Tangie Angie’s life. Its variegated leaves and pale peach flowers were boosted not only by the Annaboto’s light, but also Tangie Angie’s vibe, I’m sure.
This time I decided to dry trim (my first harvest was wet). So, Tangie Angie spent some time looking like a funky chandelier where, upside down, she released her moisture in my storage closet. She gave off a really sublime scent during that time. It had been tamped down while she was growing by Annaboto's fan. But her stay in the drying closet was her time to waft her signature fragrance as she wished.
Snipping stickiness! I love the resinous stain on my latex gloves. The process is a nice meditation; being so gentle, so patient while getting every last bud and discarding the larger leaves that have held on even in their desiccated state. And again, the scent. Tangie Angie is definitely sharp at the outset but with a rounded mellowness beneath it. I sit in the rocking chair while I gather her up. And I feel calm and happy. In the burping bags she goes, then onto a dark shelf to wait a few weeks to cure before I share her with friends. And the sharing is the absolute best part of the harvest.
Author: Mission April