As soon as the balcony earth was turned, the seeds were spilled on the third day. It's not luck, it's the temperature, the light and the earth's temperature of march this year just caught in their favorite spots. I've tried six, and i've grown mad at five, and the other one is that i've had too much to drink for two days。
It's true that the horns were blown, and i just spilled one in the window pan, and in seven days, it was so dark that it started to split. It doesn't pick soil, and peat and pearl rock, but the deep basin rots. The flower is like a small-faced plate, one by one, with no strangling, and it's rounded up. One morning it suddenly cooled to 2°c, and i thought it was over。
And i dipped in the ground on the side of the courtyard, and the earth was so hard that i could gnaw, and there was no fertilizing or covering, that the seedlings were better than the horns. It recognizes the length of the sun, and the buds come in the day after spring break. A little bit of a back-and-down after a long height, but the side branch was blown with a cut and the seeds fell below. This year's seed drops go right out next year。
The 100-spring grass was later fixed and started in early april, and it is now 20 cm. Seeds touch hard-tons, they don't smoke water, but they turn on wet soil. It's not afraid of the heat, it's tanned, it's tanned, it's tanned, it's white, it's not a flower, it's a paint box。
The medal-gill didn't die last winter, and three or four sprouts of roots were found this morning. It does not support itself with leaves, but with its roots running down. Last year's thumb was thick, and this year it's been plattered, and the flowers are still open, and the earth is full。
The sunflower is a seed from the lord next door and says, "just throw the walls." i threw it in the pottery, watered it twice, and now the pole is 60 centimeters, and three flowers have been drawn. It's deep, it's broken, so don't move. Live is the right way。
Violet's the most evil, cut-off branch in the dirt, and it's white root in three days. It blooms at night, during the day, and it looks unspirited, but there's a half a can of energy underneath it. I cut it with old buckets, filled it with rotting leaves, and now it's falling out of pollen and the whole fog。
I'm in the middle of time: the horn is on top of it, and it's about to come up, and when they're both having fun, it's violet. We used peat and pearl rock in three to one. The water was not watered from the sky, dried up and then poured into the ground, and the fat was used only once for potassium phosphate。
In one case, the ground was dug downstairs, resulting in a growth rate of less than half. There were also people who were intoxicated early in march, resulting in a full blow of frost. I've stepped on all of these things, and now i know it's not the flowers, it's the rhythm we don't like。
The soil is loose, the water is less water, it's less fat, it's better. Last year's medal-gills were planted, and this year they were dug into six of them, each with a bud and buried in the new basin。
