Life's A Beach

We fly home later today, so this morning, Romie and I got up early and drove to Holmes Beach. This is probably the first trip we've taken to Florida that we didn't go to the beach in the heat of the day. Romie isn't comfortable doing that anymore, due to his current situation with squamous cell carcinoma, and I no longer have the desire to get burned, sweaty and sandy. So we went early, and we enjoyed a stroll along the water's edge.

The pier was open, so we walked out to the end of it and mingled with the fishermen. Romie saw a stingray flutter by under the surface of the water and a little too close to shore. Several years ago, I almost picked one up. I had looked down and thought it was a sand dollar peeking out of the sand, so I bent over to pick it up and it swam away. I'm grateful for large favors.

We've found lots of shark's teeth on previous visits to this beach. The girls and I used to make a game of it and see who could find the most. Jenna had a good eye for them and so did I. But I didn't find any today. I did see lots of seaweed washing up as the tide was coming in, and I had the thought that God was doing some weeding and tidying up of the gulf floor.

We got a kick out of the cute little sandpipers moving their legs at hyperspeed to run away from the approaching tide as the waves crashed in. They were a little more skittish than the gulls, who were just looking for a handout. We stood and watched a couple of gulls who seemed to be engaged in some sort of mating ritual. One would throw his head back and caw and then the other one would do the same, in answer. This went on for several minutes and then...yes, it definitely was a mating ritual.

We were short on time, so we got back in the car and went to our favorite little shops on the island. A couple of them are tacky little souvenir joints, but you just never know when you might find something you can't live without. The other two are at the north end of the island in the little village of Anna Maria. There's a shop that carries tropical design clothing that has large cages outside the front door that have parrots, mynahs, and other talking birds. It's always fun to stand in front of them and carry on a conversation, even if the vocabulary is limited to 'hello' and sexy whistles.

The Sand Dollar is at the opposite end as the birds and it's a unique boutique that carries all kinds of unusual items of home and garden decor, as well as jewelry and clothing. Here, I bought a cast iron cat figure for Kara, as well as one for myself. Kara is taking care of our animals and plants. They gift wrap every purchase and in our case, the paper gave a hint as to the contents of the package. I love this store!

We got back to Two Rivers around 11:00, and we finished packing. I had purchased a lady-slipper orchid at Lowe's and a bougainvillea at Home Depot, so I made sure they were secured in my carry-on. I got a couple of packages of caladium bulbs and a blood lily bulb, too, but I packed those away in my suitcase with the amaryllis bulbs. You know, you just can't plop down a northern gardener in the tropics and expect them to look and not touch!

We should be home by 10:00 tonight. We had a wonderful time here, but there's no place like home.

I (Heart) Lobster

One of the things I wanted to do while in Florida was to eat lobster. I love lobster and if it's in my power to know that I'm about to eat my last meal on earth, I'd want it to be lobster. I've only ever had it a handful of times because it's so pricey, but it has never disappointed me. Until now.

When you only get to have something you really love once every five years or so, it takes on a taste that you either remember being better than it actually was, or it really was just that good and you start salivating at the mere thought of getting to eat it again.

I began salivating sometime last week, when Grandma and I were discussing the details of this trip. She said she was going to buy lunches and dinners, and we could go pretty much anywhere we'd like. I'm a pretty picky eater, so I'm not all that adventurous when it comes to food. Oh, I'll try anything once. I ate cuy (guinea pig) and caldo de pata, a soup made of the inside of cow's hooves while in Ecuador. But I mostly order the same thing every time at my favorite restaurants. Now we were going to Florida, and the first thing that comes to my culinary mind when I think of Florida is seafood. And when I think of seafood, I think of lobster.

Grandma said I could have some. I know - you're thinking I'm just a bit spoiled, aren't you? But of course! It's my GRANDMA! That's what grandparents DO! I'll never forget the time we were eating at my mom and dad's and my dad took Kara to get french fries at McDonald's because she didn't like what Mom had fixed for dinner. I started to protest as they walked out the door, and then I realized that Dad was just doing his job. He never would have done that for me when I was growing up in his house.

We went to Anna Maria Oyster Bar in Ellenton for this lobster I had to have. It was a gorgeous night and we decided to eat out on the patio. I looked at the menu and saw that they not only had lobster, they had two kinds of it. A 1¼-pound whole steamed Maine lobster at market price ($14.95) and baked lobster tail (8 oz. for $22.49) from Florida. What to do? Is there a big difference between Maine lobster and Florida lobster?

I asked our waitress about this. She preferred the Florida lobster. She was a native and had grown up on Florida lobster and had just had her first Maine lobster last week. She didn't care for it. Tasted funny, she said. I asked her if she knew what kind of lobster Red Lobster restaurants served, because I know I like theirs. She didn't know.

At this point, I went into Who Wants To Be a Millionaire mode and tried to use logic in deciding which one to order. I considered that the whole lobster deal would be lots of work getting the meat out of the shell while the tail would be splayed out there for lazy me in all its glory. If our waitress grew up on Florida lobster, then of course she would like that better, but that didn't mean I would. Does the 1½ pounds of whole lobster include the shell? If not, then I'd be better off ordering the Maine because I'd get more bang for Grandma's buck. (I try to be a smart shopper, even when spending someone else's money.) I didn't want to order the wrong thing because I didn't know when I'd get to have it again. Who knew ordering lobster could be so difficult?

But wait, there's more!

I finally decided on the Florida lobster. I'm in Florida, right? And our waitress recommended it. Whew. Glad that part's over. Can you tell I have a problem making decisions?


Aunt Kay ordered Maine lobster and they brought hers first. She took a bite and declared it scrumptious. I started thinking that I should have ordered the Maine. Next came my Florida lobster tail. Ooooooh, it looked so fluffy and tasty. And there was the drawn butter that was going to make it just melt in my mouth with yummy goodness. I took my fork and pierced the meat, then twisted it and pulled it toward me. It wouldn't budge. I tugged and pulled some more, but it just wouldn't let go.

I watched Aunt Kay using her cracker and tiny fork to get her lobster meat out and eat it. I was working way harder than she was and I still hadn't managed to get any of mine in my mouth. Finally, I picked up the knife and cut a piece off, dipped it in the butter, then closed my tongue and teeth around the white morsel. Morsel? MORSEL?? That word is reserved for those treasures that tantalize our tastebuds like...say...chocolate. Lobster should be morsel-like, but mine not only was tougher than shoe leather, but it had absolutely no taste. I think maybe that cow's hoof soup tasted better, but I'm not sure, because the main ingredient in that only stayed in my mouth for about five seconds before I spit it out.

I was sick. Here I'd ordered $22.49 lobster and it wasn't good. I didn't even want to go through the motions of eating it and pretending I liked it. To add insult to injury, Aunt Kay let me have a taste of hers and THERE WAS THE LOBSTER I KNEW AND LOVED. On her plate.

About this time, our waitress came by and asked how I liked my lobster. For half a second, I wasn't sure what to say, but then I wrinkled up my nose and told her it really wasn't very good. We had the best waitress in the world, because she took it and said, "You know, sometimes we get a tough one. You must have gotten Grandpa. I'll take this back and get you a steamed one." I don't even remember her name, but I know I love her.

I loved the lobster, too.

Photo by Kay Mawhorter

Enthusiastic? Passionate? Addicted? Compulsive? Obsessed?

I was recently accused of being obsessed with gardening/plants/flowers. And the person said this like it was a bad thing. Huh.

It's no secret that I get great enjoyment out of digging in the dirt, pulling weeds, going to garden shows, and looking for new and unusual things to grow in my garden. I love to talk shop with fellow gardeners. I like to see what others are growing and am happy to give tours of my own garden. It's nothing fancy, but it's mine and it keeps me busy doing what I love. I enjoy getting up close and personal with a blossom to study the intricacies of its design. If that's obsession, then hang an "O" around my neck. There are worse things.

But really, when does a hobby become an obsession? There's probably a fine line dividing the two and how do we know when we've crossed over it? I've come up with some key things to ask yourself to help determine if you might have a problem...


1. Do you find it hard to throw away a seed catalog, even when you have no intention of ever ordering from the company? (It's good reference material.)

2. When traveling, do you get out the hotel phone book and look for nurseries and garden centers there might be nearby?

3. Do you just have to have that zone 7 plant even though you live in zone 5 and you delude yourself by thinking you can create a microclimate for its survival? (Oh, and mulch for the winter will help, too.)

4. Can you walk out of places like Walmart without at least browsing through the garden section? (If you can, just skip the rest of the quiz. You're not even close to being addicted.)

5. Do you have a makeshift greenhouse set up in your basement so you can continue to garden throughout the winter, because you know you'll go mad by spring if you don't? (Give yourself extra points if your 'greenhouse' occupies your guest bathroom.)

6. Have you ever eaten a nasturtium?

7. Do you become intoxicated by the smell of mulch?

8. Have you ever mourned the loss of a plant after a brutal winter? (Be honest now.)

9. Do you know what a cotyledon is? And why it's important?

10. Do strangers ask you for advice when you're in the garden center, because they see you every time they are there and think you work there?

11. Do you spend more on plants each summer than you do on food to feed your family? (Or want to?)

12. Do people walk in your house and ask you if you like flowers? (And you say, "I guess so. But I only have 176 house plants." )

13. The names of your cats are Lily, Posey, Rose, Daisy, Fern, Violet, Poppy, and Iris. (Wait ... let's deal with one obsession at a time, shall we?)

14. Do you choose the vehicle you drive by how many plants you can haul in the back of it?

15. Do you Tivo Rebecca's Garden, The Victory Garden, Martha Stewart, Gardener's Diary, World Garden Tour, Secret Gardens Of..., Garden Sense, Grounds For Improvement, Fresh From the Garden, and Weekend Gardening?

16. Did you not even have to take this quiz to know that you are obsessed?


Okay, so you've crossed the line. Never fear; you're not alone. There are plenty of us out there and if the day ever comes that we need to be committed because of our enthusiasm/passion/addiction/compulsion/obsession, you know darn well that our gardens will be the envy of all the 'normal' people out there.

Let them eat cake. We'll be having a heck of a salad. Pass the dressing, please.

Far Away Friends

Kat and I met online about ten years ago, through our mutual interest in vintage Winnie-the-Pooh. I can't remember who contacted whom first - I think it was Kat who e-mailed me - but it didn't take long for us to realize we would become more than mere acquaintances. Over the years, we e-mailed, telephoned, snail-mailed, and visited each other several times. We even spent a couple of our meetings at her parents' home in Arkansas.

It's an interesting friendship that has to be maintained in such a long distance way. But when you have one like we do, it doesn't matter how long it's been since you've seen each other, you just pick right up where you left off.

Kat likes to say we are twin daughters of separate mothers, with me being the older twin by 58 days and some-odd minutes. Heaven help either of our parents had we truly been born into the same family. I have no doubt we could have wreaked some really good havoc together during our growing up years.

I went to Kat's home in Zephyrhills today. I've never been here before. She got married in January and she moved to Timmy's house. It's on a fabulous property that I could have tons of fun landscaping and planting oodles of those tropical wonders they grow down here. Kat says she has a brown thumb (that's one thing we don't have in common), but I doubt if that's true. Gardening just isn't one of her things. She is, however, very artistic and creative. She's even left-handed. Last year for my birthday, she surprised me with this:


We had a wonderful visit in her screened-in porch, where I'd spend all the time I could if I lived there. It was so cozy sitting in the wicker chairs and catching up on things. I watched the video of her wedding and we walked down to the property she owns but will be selling shortly. Again, a fabulous piece of ground. There was a house, but I was drooling over the vegetation.

I spied some more of those in-the-ground amaryllis and once again, I was the lucky recipient of bulbs. I plan to put them in the ground up north for the summer, then pot them all up together in a large pot for winter bloom inside. I can see it already... And when I am enjoying their crimson loveliness, I'll remember the day I visited with my friend.

It's Not Just For Senior Citizens Anymore!

Shuffleboard. Have you ever seen an under-55 with a shuffle cue in their hands? It's a rarity, and I can't figure out why that is. Even though it had been more than 25 years since I'd played a game of shuffleboard, I remember how fun it was and jumped at the chance to play again while we are down here.

The rules are pretty simple and it doesn't require a buff physique to play. You have a cue, which is a long stick with a semi-circle on the end for pushing the discs down the court. The court is 52 feet long and six feet wide. The idea is to 'shove' four weighted discs from one end of the court to the other, into the scoring area. The scoring area is triangular, with five sections for scoring points: 10, 8, 7 and -10. Each player shoves their discs to the other end eight times and scores are tallied. Discs touching a line don't count. The player with the most points wins.

Uncle Bob got the cue sticks out, including one that belonged to my Grandpa. It made me smile when I looked at it and I thought to myself, "My grandpa's fingerprints are probably still on this." He was killed in 1968 in a car accident, the day before my 11th birthday. It was a very sad day in my life, since I spent a great deal of time at my grandma and grandpa's house. He was a very good shuffleboard player and even won some tournaments down here.

We went down to the court, which is just half a block from my aunt and uncle's place and we drew numbers to see who we got to play with. There are some die-hard shufflers here and I'm sure they didn't want to have to play with me. Romie is pretty good at whatever sport he attempts, so no worries there. But it was all just for fun today and we kept individual scores instead of the usual team scoring. Everyone was really nice and helped me relearn the game.

I won't go into all the miserable gutter shots I had, or the ones where I ended up in the kitchen (the -10 area), and most of all I won't tell you about the times I knocked my good-score discs out of the scoring area. I am my own worst enemy, I tell ya. And my last partner's best friend. He had the highest score he's ever had while playing with me. He's a very good player, but I gave him half his points. I couldn't knock myself into scoring position, but I was pretty good at doing that for him. He thanked me very kindly.

The mailman stopped by while we were playing and I think he felt sorry for me, because he whispered in my ear that he'd help me. Okay. I needed all the help I could get. When I started the final game, he stood on the court and formed a 'V' with his feet so my discs would go right into the small triangle that scores 10. When I got three of my discs in that triangle, there wasn't room for any more. No problem. Did you know that you can still score a disc if it's on top of another disc? In the first frame, I had 40 points! They wouldn't let me keep those points, though. Geesh. Even with them, I wouldn't have won.

I ended up with a grand total of -4. But the fun factor was way up there.

Sunset on the Beach

In all the times I've been down here over the years, I've never gone out to Anna Maria Island to watch the sun set. We've talked about doing it several times, but it kept getting put off and when we'd decide that tonight was the night, it would rain or something else came up and it just never happened.

Tonight, we all loaded up in the car and headed west for Holmes Beach out on the island. We ate at Cafe on the Beach, where I had some sort of fried fish and lemonade. It was just okay - heavy on the breading, light on the fish inside it. When you eat on the beach, they don't give you straws for your drinks, because they're especially bad for the birds if they become litter. They also have plastic cording strung across the top of the patio to keep the birds from stealing your food. They aren't foolproof, though, because a couple of years ago, I was eating my fish and a sea gull swooped in and took an entire filet right off my plate!

Photo by Kay Mawhorter

After we finished our meal, we parked our chairs down by the water and it wasn't too long before the sun presented us with the end of the day in technicolor. We snapped several pictures, but my aunt won the prize for the best capture of it all. The air temperature, even with the slight breeze, was delightful and not chilling at all. We walked a short length of the beach before heading for home.

We took a slight detour about halfway, at SweetBerries. As you might guess, it's a wonderful ice cream shop. Well, not ice cream exactly, but frozen custard. It tastes just like ice cream to me though and my Caramel Crunch Concrete really hit the spot. Romie had some strawberry banana thing like a sundae. It had a clever name, but I can't remember what it was now.

A Walk in the Park

Our place of residence for this week is my aunt and uncle's mobile home in Two Rivers Park. It's so named because it sits at the confluence of the Braden and Manatee Rivers. Lovely location, about ten miles east of Anna Maria Island, where we go to the beach. This was not our first trip here together and not my first trip here personally, by a long shot.

My grandparents first started going to Florida in the winters, in the farming off-season, back in the '50s. They liked it here and eventually purchased their mobile home in 1961. I can remember coming down here as a child, with my mom. I specifically recall going to Cypress Gardens one time (1964 - I was six years old) and we took our own girls there about 25 years later. (Actually, I think Jenna was the only one who went there, because that trip, Kara had to stay home for basketball.) I can still remember the beautiful azaleas and the pretty girls in their Southern Belle gowns.

Life in an over-55 mobile home park in Florida is a far cry from the daily grind of going to work and certainly different than the blustery cold weather of the midwest winter, which is why people come here. They're called 'snowbirds,' these seasonal residents, and I heard a new moniker while we were here this time - 'Q-Tips' (white hair, white tennies). There is a community hall where everyone gathers for breakfast on Saturday mornings and various other activities take place here, too.

Our first night here, there was a luau, and we enjoyed good food and good conversation with the park's residents. There was music and dancing. Not us, though. My grandma and grandpa used to go to square dances all the time, both here and in neighboring Braden Castle.

We bought lottery tickets at the luau and we won a $20 gift certificate to Gecko's Grill & Pub and several coupons for free food at Sonic. M-m-m-m-m-m-m ... Sonic burgers and strawberry Cream Slushes.

We are taking walks around the park and into the Braden Castle community. I especially enjoy walking through Braden Castle, as it's an historical part of town and has the cutest little cottages lining the narrow streets. It just oozes with nostalgia. About 200 little bungalows were built from 1924 to 1929 by the Camping Tourists of America on 40-by-40 foot lots to accommodate tourists. You can still see what's left of the actual Braden Castle, which was constructed in 1850 of tabby, a lime/sand/crushed shells/water mixture, but each time we come, it has deteriorated more. I wonder what they'll do when it's gone. Today, there was jasmine blooming on the fence surrounding the ruins and I lingered a minute, inhaling its sweet scent.

The weather is absolutely perfect. We couldn't have ordered anything better. Sunny blue skies, light gulf breezes, and mid- to high-80s (°F). The warmth of the sun feels so good and to not need a jacket, even at night, is a joy all in itself. I'm sure that there's always something in bloom here in Florida, but the consistently warm temperatures that this time of the year brings down here is undoubtedly a factor in the gorgeous tropical flowers we are seeing as we walk through the park.




The two prominent blooms we're seeing are bougainvillea and hibiscus. Last year when we were here in February, I bought one of each to take home on the plane. You can buy these for a song here! And I don't think I've even seen bougainvillea for sale anywhere in our nurseries. When it got warm enough last summer, I put both of them outside in the garden, sinking the clay pots entirely down into the soil. The hibiscus did great (although it dropped all its leaves about a month after I brought it back in this fall) and was a luscious peachy-pink color. The bougainvillea grew, but has never bloomed. Maybe this summer...

I also noticed a few azaleas and what I think are native amaryllis. They're a very pure orangy-red color and smaller than the Dutch or South African amaryllis. The foliage and plants themselves are the same size, but the blooms are smaller. Across the street from my aunt and uncle's, Bea is growing an 'Apple Blossom' hybrid. In the ground. Oh, to be able to do that in Ohio! While I do plant my bulbs in the ground for summer, to allow them to grow and gain strength for the next winter's blooms, I have to bring them in before frost or I'll lose them. I'm definitely suffering a bout of zone envy here.

As we walked along and recognized other tropicals that we raise up north as house plants, I'm struck by the fact that these plants do so much better in their native environment. Some of them I don't hardly recognize, they're so much more lush and large than the ones we have in containers back home. A couple of times, I said to Romie, "We have that one," and he looks at it, puzzled, and says, "Where?" Down here, they are quite remarkable-looking things. Back home, they're a little more ho-hum. I feel like we're raising them in captivity. They live, but not the life they were meant to live.

Last night, I was walking along the street, taking pictures of the amaryllis nearby and a woman called out to me from her porch, "What are you taking pictures of?" I told her amaryllis and she said, "Oh, you have to see the one on the corner and also the lilies by the vacant house down there." I told her I had just taken a couple pictures of some red amaryllis and was on my way to the ones on the corner, and she wondered where I'd seen red amaryllis. I told her and she said,"Oh, I thought those were lilies! Well, anyway, would you like some?"

Okay, now my ears really perked up and I tried to contain my excitement. "Yes, I absolutely would LOVE to have some!" She grabbed a shovel and we walked down to the house where she dug up four nice-sized bulbs for me. I took them back to the trailer, cut the flowers and put them in water on the kitchen table, and put the bulbs in a plastic bag for transporting back to Ohio.

The surprise gift of these red amaryllis pretty much made my day.

Only God...

...can create perfection in a living thing quite like this...

I saw this Pilea involucrata at Marie Selby Botanical Gardens yesterday. It's sometimes called the Friendship Plant, because it's so easy to propagate. I have an all-green one (P. nummulariifolia) and I can testify to the truth of that. I bought a small hanging pot of it at Lowe's last year and this year I have two pots, as a result of taking cuttings and rooting them.

Join

*I am one week behind in my blogging, due to my trip to Florida, and I'll be playing catch-up for the next few days.

Marie Selby Botanical Gardens

The first day of our Florida vacation, we journeyed a bit farther south to Sarasota. The Marie Selby Botanical Gardens, located on Sarasota Bay in the Gulf of Mexico, is just one of Florida's treasures and though I visited them last year, Romie went golfing that day and I wanted him to see them for himself. Neither of us was disappointed, as they lived up to their reputation of being voted the #1 botanical gardens in the state by Florida Monthly and one of the top ten botanical gardens in the country by Country Living Gardener magazine.

The gardens are the result of Marie Selby's "Passion For Plants" and 180,000 visitors a year are the benefactors. Mrs. Selby led a fascinating life with her husband, William, and because of his fascination with the first cross-country automobile race, she accompanied her husband on a cross-country trip by car and was the first woman to do so.

After entering the visitor's center and having the $12 admission fee waived because we are both members of the American Horticultural Society, we walked into the conservatory, which houses more than 6000 orchids. There had apparently been an orchid show of sorts prior to our arrival, as there were displays of orchid specimens with award ribbons attached to them. The scent upon entering the conservatory was definitely tropical and deliciously ambrosial. The different scents of the various species of orchids created a blend that was intoxicating and indescribable. Romie said to me, "Could you imagine living here and having this to go to in the dead of winter?" No ... really, I couldn't. It was too heavenly.

We spent quite a bit of time in the conservatory, which had trickling waterfalls along one side, that emptied into a small pond. Pennies and other coins had been tossed in. There was a buddha carved into the wall which was covered in green moss. Some of the more valuable orchids were in a glass cabinet of sorts, but the rest were as close as you wanted to get to them.

There were other plants in the conservatory, of course, such as bromeliads, carnivorous plants, and vines of all kinds. But the focus was on orchids. As we were perusing and discussing the incredible detail in some of these, I overheard one woman say to her friend, "So many people come in here and take so many pictures that they don't stop and just enjoy the flowers themselves." I wanted to tell her that some people do both. We were not in a hurry and we spent enough time in there and in the rest of the gardens that we took in the sights and the smells in great detail. The photos I was taking were so that I could enjoy the visit again, once I returned home to Ohio. And when I see these pictures, I have excellent peripheral vision. In my mind's eye, I can remember what it was like when I was standing there and can see beyond the borders of the photo.

It was a beautiful sunny day today, with temperatures in the mid-80s (°F) and a slight breeze coming off the Gulf of Mexico to our west. We spent considerable time strolling through the outside gardens, which included a fragrance garden, a butterfly garden, a banyan grove, a bamboo garden, a cactus and succulent garden, a Koi pond, and a boardwalk through the mangroves. Somehow we managed to miss Wild Things, which was a small building housing poison dart frogs. I guess we'll just have to make a return visit to see them!

There are two residence buildings on the property. The mansion where William and Marie Selby lived, and the Christy Payne mansion. You can enter both of them, and see examples of southern architecture. They house art displays and today, we saw the Rainforest Masks, carved by the Borucan Indians of Costa Rica. The art of three-dimensional mask carving, which is done in balsa or cedar, began before the Spanish Conquest (1524 A.D.) and is one of the few indigenous crafts still being practiced. The detail in these carved masks was incredible! All were available for purchase, with a large one, measuring approximately 7" by 24", selling for about $725.

Marie Selby Gardens maintains a weather station, which is part of the Global Canopy Program. "The Selby Gardens weather monitoring station logs local weather adjacent to Sarasota Bay. Data from ground and canopy levels include temperature, humidity, rainfall, wind direction and wind speed, solar radiation, soil moisture, and precipitation."¹ Growing conditions at the top of the forest canopy can vary widely from those on the forest floor and scientists at the gardens document those conditions and study the data.

There are two customer shops on the premises, The Rainforest Store/Garden Shop, which sells a large number of gardening books, garden decor, and many, many orchids. Banyan Treasures is a more traditional gift shop with fine art, home decor, ceramic pottery, Venetian glass, and unusual jewelry pieces. I somehow managed to make purchases at both stores, and enjoyed a 10% discount, again, courtesy of my AHS membership.

It's impossible for me to recount every beautiful flower blossom, every wonderful view of the harbor, and each charming vignette that we encountered today while leisurely walking down the paths criss-crossing the 9.5 acres, but I hope some of my pictures will give you an idea of the beauty at 811 South Palm Avenue in Sarasota.

* Just click on any picture to view it full-sized.

Note the bromeliads and orchids growing in this tree behind the Christy Payne mansion.

Bee gathering nectar from white alyssum

Arbor in the Butterfly Garden

Buddha and the Bromeliad



Unknown orchid I



Pitcher Plant



The little anoles were everywhere!



Roots of a banyan tree



Can someone ID this beauty?



Blooms on a tapeworm plant



Great white egret in the backwater



Cedar masks



"Two Teeth" carved in cedar



Detail of carved mask



Unknown orchid II



Sarasota Bay View


Unknown orchid III



Unknown orchid IV



One of many different colored tropical hibiscus in bloom



The Fragrance Garden



Unknown orchid V



Pothos as a ground cover



I'm not familiar with this one...

¹Selby Weather Station

Traveling With Children

WARNING: I'm about to rant here. Normally, I'm a happy girl who can make the best of things in undesirable circumstances. A half-full glass of water is on my table. But sometimes someone knocks the glass over and I just have to complain about it. And then I wipe up the mess and go on.

Two days without internet makes a garden geek girl like me crabby. I'm not a big fan of our internet provider anyway, and having our service go down a full two days before leaving on a vacation trip isn't my idea of fun. Today, one hour before we walked out the door, it came back up again. But being the Queen of Procrastination, there were lots of other things to do besides checking e-mail.

Jack went missing last night. One minute he was there, being his adorable self, peering down at us from the roof, and then he was down, wending his way around our feet. We were chatting with our neighbors, and Jack didn't want to be left out. "Me! Look at me!" he chirruped. And we did. Then the neighbors went back home and we went into the house. Half an hour later, when it came time to put the kitties inside for the night, Jack was gone. I continued to call for him all evening, but he never came. I thought maybe he would be waiting by the back door this morning, but he wasn't. And he didn't show up all day. It came time for us to leave for the airport, and we had to go without knowing that all the kids were safe at home.

We got to the Fort Wayne airport in plenty of time before our 7:40 p.m. flight, so we decided to look around the gift shop. A cute cat picture frame tempted me, but I resisted. There was much more to look at, but the gift shop was closing. In fact, they wanted to close five minutes before, but they didn't want to kick us out of the store, so we left of our own accord. And don't you know, just as they locked the door on the store, I spied an adorable hat that would have been perfect for both the beach and the garden, but I wasn't meant to have it, because I couldn't get to it. It sat there on display and taunted me like the proverbial carrot for the next half hour. It was probably out of the range of my budget anyway.

We boarded our Allegiant Air flight to St. Petersburg, Florida, and we were on our way. The plane held 130 passengers and I'm pretty sure 112 of them were under the age of six. Before the two hour and twenty minute flight was through, I wanted to strangle the screaming screeching child that sat directly behind me three times and his mother was going to be next. "He's so excited to be flying," she announced to everyone around, as we all held our fingers in our ears to prevent permanent hearing loss. And we were expected to share in his excitement.

I'm not opposed to children traveling with their parents, as we have done this many times during the years we raised our own two. But unless they were in pain, our girls would not have let out the repeated blood-curdling squeals of 'delight' we had to endure this evening. Thank goodness it wasn't an overseas flight.

This was a no-frills flight, which meant no leg room, no free snacks or drinks ($2 for a bottle of water), no pillows or blankets, no free choice of seats ($11 each), no free checked luggage ($4 each bag), no nothin' extra. This was mostly fine, but when Grandma went to the restroom, then wanted to take some medication, there were no cups in the cup holder for her to get a drink there. I went to the front of the cabin and asked the flight attendant if there were supposed to be cups in the holder and she said, "Oh no! Don't drink that water!" She then proceeded to pour a cup full of bottled water for me to take to Grandma and it was FREE! Well, okay, the glass was half-full once again.

We picked up the rental car, which was supposed to be mid-size, but they were out of all compact, mid-sized, and mini-vans, so we got a 'free' upgrade to a Toyota Highlander. Cool. Except that my four-foot-nine Grandma has a difficult time getting in and out of such vehicles. That's why she loves my Volkswagen Beetle. She can just turn around and sit down in that one. We'll just have to get the step-stool out when we get to my aunt and uncle's place, which will be our residence for the next week.

My rant has officially ended now.

At midnight, we eventually made it to Beautiful Bradenton, at the confluence of the Braden and Manatee Rivers. I love this place, because it holds a nostalgic spot in my heart. My mom first brought me here in 1961, when I was four years old. My grandparents had this winter home then, and for the next forty years. My grandpa passed away in 1968, but Grandma continued to spend her winters here until 2001. Now my aunt and uncle do.

We didn't waste much time in falling into bed and if I were still in rant mode, I'd tell you how sweaty hot it is down here. But being the positive person that I am, I'll tell you that it's gloriously warm and I'm glowing.

UPDATE: Kara and Jenna stayed at the house this weekend, and when Jenna arrived, Jack was home. :-)

Butterflies in a Bowl - Part II

We are proud to announce that we are the parents of two healthy Painted Lady butterflies! Last night, when I came home from work, I immediately went to check on the chrysalises and they were still hanging there. One was definitely blacker than the other and blacker than it had been previously. I went outside to take care of some gardening business, and about half an hour later, Romie yelled out the window, "Hey! One of the butterflies hatched!"

I ran back in, and sure enough, the one whose chrysalis had turned dark had emerged. There was a bloody red liquid running down the side of the bowl and laying in the bottom, which I had read was normal. Butterfly #1 was on the bottom of the bowl, with wings folded together, sitting very still. I made up a solution of lemonade and put it in the lid of the container the caterpillars had come in, and placed it near the butterfly so it could eat when it felt like it. They like fresh orange slices, but I didn't have any, so fruit juice works well, too.

My mom's butterflies had hatched the day before, on Tuesday, so I knew our second one was probably not far behind in emerging. This was great, because I was done working for the week and I'd be home all day today to watch the second one come out. I checked on them every half an hour, to watch for jiggling, which would signal that emergence was beginning. Even though it takes only three minutes for them to wriggle out of the chrysalis, I figured I'd catch it happening by checking every half hour at least.

I went upstairs at about 12:30 p.m. to take a shower. I wasn't up there more than half an hour and when I came back downstairs and checked on the butterflies, there were TWO. I couldn't believe it. I'd missed it again. But I'm grateful for small and large favors, because we're leaving on a trip tomorrow, and we'll be gone a week. At least I got to see the newborn babies. And they're gorgeous of course. I know, all parents think that, but they really are.


In a matter of three short weeks, we'd gone from caterpillar to butterfly. Rather unbelievable if you haven't seen it with your own eyes. And we did.

*Due to our internet service being down for three days 3/21 - 3/23), and the fact that we will be in Florida until March 30th, this post and all subsequent posts through March 30th are being published in retrospect.

The Day You Can Stand an Egg on End

Now when it's March, it's really spring

There's a bright new look on everything.
~ Anonymous

Today, at 8:07 p.m. EDT, spring officially tiptoes through the door. We've been waiting all winter for her arrival, and the last couple of weeks has seen the gardens gearing up for it. I am once again doing daily walk-throughs in search of new growth. Oh, and legend has it you can stand a raw egg on end today. It's true! You can! I've done it! (Psssst.....you can do it on the other 364 days of the year, too.)

I take my camera as I walk, and I am loving the macro feature on my Canon A710. It's the best digital camera I've ever owned as far as the wonderful detail it is capable of recording. Any blurriness you see in the pictures I post here are purely due to operator error, because it has proven time and again that it has the ability to capture the most minute details beautifully. I can only imagine the kinds of things it could do if I would bother to read the manual.


I was surprised to wake up to freezing rain yesterday. I thought we were done with that nonsense. By day's end, however, we had reached 50° and we've been promised it will continue to warm as the week goes on.



Did you know there were 5000 species of ladybugs? This baby one, whose picture I took on Sunday, is Coleomegilla maculata. Who comes up with these names anyway?



I planted 'Dragon's Blood' sedum (Sedum spurium) in the fall of 2005. It is never as bloody red as it is when the temperatures are cooler. It will take on a more greenish cast in the heat of summer.



My mom gave me this Japanese Fantail Willow (Salix sachalinensis). I didn't pay really close attention to it last summer, but when fall came and it lost its leaves, it demanded that I take a closer look. Florists love this bush for its fused and twisted branches, although I've heard more than one person call it ugly. I happen to be drawn to the unusual, so I like it. I have it underplanted with 'Limelight' Artemisia and it's one of my favorite pairings.



I'm a sucker for variegated foliage and this Arum italicum, also known as Lords and Ladies, is just getting started in my shade garden. I'm hoping it blooms this year and goes on to get the beautiful orange berry clusters I've seen in the nursery catalogs.



In the little semi-circular area near the entrance to our house, I have tried many different plantings over the years, with little success against the hot west summer sun and winds. Then two years ago, I noticed that the sedum I'd planted there not only survived, but was thriving. I figured "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em," and now that entire area is 80% planted with sedum. Sometimes you learn from experience.



Last year was the first year for my 'Replete' daffodils (Narcissus). I was not pleased with them. The color and form were both less than desirable, and they definitely didn't look like the pictures in the catalogs. I'm amazed that this one was named 1995 Daffodil of the Year. Maybe it's my soil, maybe it's the location, or maybe it takes a few years before it reaches true maturity. If it is as ugly this year as it was last year, I think I'll dig them up and relegate them to the 'Orphan Garden.'



There's nothing here that gives perspective to show how tiny these new Spotted Dead Nettle (Lamium maculatum) leaves are. The largest leaf is no more than half an inch across. They're so cute when they're little.



Last year, Jenna told me about a tree she saw near her apartment that she loved and that I must buy one. She didn't know the name of it, but after some back-and-forth discussion, she finally remembered she'd seen one where I work. I knew then that she was referring to the tulip Magnolia tree outside the lab window. I did buy one (Magnolia 'Jane'), just because Jenna wanted me to, and I made her promise to come home every year while it was in bloom. Yesterday, I noticed that the fuzzy buds set last fall are starting to break open. In a few weeks, we should see some beautiful mauve pink blossoms. And Jenna.



I splurged last spring and bought a beautiful Zen water fountain at Menard's. Around the base, I planted Creeping Wire Vine (Muehlenbeckia axillaris). It's a 'steppable,' meaning it's a pretty tough little plant that will take light foot traffic. It's also hardy to zone 5, so even though it's looking pretty bronzey right now, I expect it to start growing green from the crown when the weather warms enough.


I'll let the silhouette of our large Colorado Blue Spruce (Picea pungens) against last night's setting sun speak for itself...

Ear Worm?

With apologies to Lewis Carroll, Sammy Fain and Bob Hilliard...

A very merry half-birthday
To me
To who?
To me
Oh, you

A very merry half-birthday
To you
Who, me?
To you
Oh, me

Let's all congratulate us with another can of pop,
A very merry half-birthday to me!

Yes, today is my half-birthday. I'm observing this day as I do on all my unbirthdays, so there's not a party or anything. There should be, though, because any day I wake up breathing is cause for celebration.


Now tell me you aren't singing The Unbirthday Song now.

You're welcome. :-)

Scilla Revisited

The Scilla I posted a picture of last month is finished blooming for this year. The flowers themselves grew quite tall, or at least taller than I expected. They were a little over a foot at their greatest height. Once the blooms were spent, I allowed the foliage to remain until it turned yellow and limp. I cleaned the bulb and it is stored in a net bag in the basement until it's warm enough outside to put it in the ground, where it can gain nutrients and build strength for next year's blooms. I'll have to lift it this fall, since it isn't hardy to zone 5.

Before the blooming was over, I captured this detail of one of the beautiful blue blooms. It's hard to tell the size of things here, but if you took a ruler and placed one edge of it at the yellow anther on the left and measured to a yellow anther directly across from it on the right, it would be no more than half an inch. Considering that, how small do you think the moisture bubbles in this picture are? And don't the filaments remind you of those blue teething rings filled with water that they make for babies?

Join

Lucky Me

I don't know if I have the luck of the Irish or what, but today was a very good day. There were a couple of other days that led up to The Major Event, but it was the culmination of several people working together with the power of the internet and a bit of divine intervention thrown in. Let me give you some background information.

Four years ago, in May, we had to have our Mimi put to sleep. She lived with us for 16 years and Kara and Jenna couldn't remember when we didn't have her. But she had multiple problems (arthritis, cataracts, deafness, and eventually, incontinence) and the time came where we had to make that decision you hope you never have to make. It was a sad day here, and though we've had many cats enter our lives since that time, we all would still say that Mimi was the best cat we've ever had.

After her passing, we laid her to rest in our (then) herb garden, under the catnip. We have a beautiful stone marker that came from Coer d'Alene, Idaho and we're reminded of her whenever we look at it.

We discussed whether we wanted to get another inside cat or not, and decided against it for the time being. And besides, we had Jinx outside, who provided us with our kitty fix. But it only took three weeks before we decided we wanted another cat to share our lives in the house. I had just recently become aware of Bengal cats and was smitten right from the start. Their spotted fur was beautiful and I wanted one. There was just one problem. It cost about $500 for even a pet quality Bengal. Try as I might, there was no way I could justify spending that much, even on such a special cat.

Jenna told me that her friend and cousin Katy had some new kittens that were just adorable. And of course, they were free. I made a visit to see the adorable kittens and they were so darn cute, I could have taken all of them, but I knew Romie would not be happy with me if I did. There were three that looked almost identical, except for one, which had a white smudge on his nose. She came home with me and we became the proud parents of Phoebe.

Phoebe had to make the requisite trip to see our veterinarian, Dr. Kleman, and Chris, his technician, took her from me when we got there. "What's this cat's name?" she said, as she filled out the chart. "Phoebe. P-h-o-e-b-e." Chris looked at me, and snickered. "And what other name did you have picked out for HIM?"

OMG. Phoebe was a him. How could I have made such a mistake? He was small, but I really thought I was better at discerning male from female than that! Chris explained the 'dot/dash' method for determining the sex of a kitten, and I vowed to never make that mistake again. So Phoebe became Simon and I hope he isn't psychologically scarred for life. I mean, just look what happened to A Boy Named Sue.

In the years since that time, various cats have shared our home, courtesy of other people that decided they no longer wanted them. They didn't ask us if we wanted them either, but we couldn't help but give these abandoned furbabies food and shelter.


That brings us to Thursday of this week. I received an e-mail from one of our patients at work, telling of a Bengal cat that needed a home. Abby was five years old and shared a home with several other cats, two of which were male Bengals. These males recently began making life difficult for Abby and she retreated daily to the top of the kitchen cupboards. While that gives a cat a distinct vantage point, it's nowhere to live, in fear of bullying by its housemates. E-mails were exchanged and a phone call made, and this morning Romie and I traveled to Roanoke, Indiana (about an hour away) to meet Abby.

We were excited about it, but Abby clearly was not. She retreated back behind the couches and a table in the corner and there she stayed. We visited with her owners, Reed and Joyce, and admired the other members of their kitty family. There were several Persians, a Sphinx, and the two male Bengals. All gorgeous. Eventually, the time came for Abby to be retrieved so she could go home with us. She was put into the carrier, goodbyes were said, and we were on our way back home.

Abby doesn't mind riding in the car, and I let her out of the carrier. She explored the van, then settled into my lap for the rest of the ride home. We had decided we would keep her in the dining room for awhile and let her get used to her surroundings before introducing her to Simon and Baby. She's doing very well so far.

We've discovered she can darn near leap tall buildings in a single bound. And she loves to lay on my lap, which I also love, of course, and that's where she is right now. I wish you could feel her fur. It's so soft, it's almost like feeling nothing at all when you touch it. And the variation in coloring is astounding. She's got some dark golden hair that looks like spun copper, especially when the sun hits it.

I can't hardly believe that I finally got my Bengal. Oh, and did I mention she was free? Actually, she's priceless.

It's true -- good things come to those who wait.

The Big Green Bug

When winter strips the landscape of its greenery and exposes the framework that gives it shape, sometimes it reveals the unexpected. While walking Our Little Acre a few weeks ago, I noticed several growths on the spiraea bushes. Suspecting galls or something similar, upon closer inspection I discovered something that had the appearance of crystalized brown sugar. Some were larger than others, ranging from one to two inches in length. They looked like they would disintegrate easily if I tried to remove them from the branches. Though my curiosity made me want to do just that, something told me not to and that I'd better investigate further.

I went in the house, got my camera, and went back outside to take a close-up photo so that I could post it online in hopes that someone could identify them for me.

I sat down at the computer, logged into Dave's Garden and went to the Garden Pests and Diseases forum. I suspected there was an insect involved, but didn't know if it was friend or foe. As I looked at the topics already posted, I soon discovered that I wasn't the only one who had these strange 'growths' on their trees and bushes. And when I found out what we had here, I was thrilled! Tucked inside the brown sugar casings are praying mantis eggs! Hundreds of them!

We had several praying mantids up around the house last summer. One day, as I was crouched down, pulling weeds from around the daisies, I saw the teeniest, tiniest praying mantis I've ever seen. In fact, at just half an inch in length, I'm surprised I saw it at all. I wanted to take a picture of it, but it was so small, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find it again if I went in to get the camera. Not to worry. It stayed put and I snapped several images of it. Such an incredible, tiny, detailed thing it was and the pictures didn't begin to convey its diminutive size.


Later in the summer, I was checking out at Home Depot (yes, buying plants) and the woman at the cash register stuttered, "You...you...you've got...you've got a big, green bug on you!!" Another employee nearby turned to look and I asked them where it was. They told me it was on my right shoulder. I looked over and as I did, The Big Green Bug crawled straight up the middle of my face. I recognized it just before it reached my face, as a praying mantis. It was sitting on top of my head, so I reached up and grabbed it and placed it on the hanging plant I was buying, saying, "If you don't mind, I think I'll take this home with me, too. Bonus!" The poor woman at the cash register was still trying to get her hyperventilation problem under control.

I love praying mantises. They are so unique and beautiful in form. They're carnivorous, and eat aphids, mosquitoes, flies, and cockroaches, yet they carry no disease and don't bite humans. They are the only predator that eats moths after dark (when they're most active) and the only insect fast enough to catch mosquitoes and flies. If they don't have a ready supply of fresh, live food, they will eat each other. This behavior is legendary when it comes to the mating act, but juvenile mantids will do this as well. They also are the only insect that can turn its head a full 180° in each direction.

In spring or early summer, the baby mantids will hatch from the eggs contained inside the casings. Each casing contains 50-200 eggs and I counted twenty of them on our bushes, so we should have no shortage of praying mantises this summer. Cool.

*In case you were wondering, the plural of mantis is mantises, mantes, or mantids.

- BREAKING NEWS -

HAVILAND, OH -- At 5:20 p.m. EDT today, the first bloom of the season was spotted by Romie. Even though Kylee had spent several hours in the gardens throughout the day, cleaning up leaves and pruning dead away, she failed to notice the quiet appearance of the Double Snowdrop (Galanthus nivalus).

Once the discovery had been made, Kylee grabbed the camera as she flew out of the house to take a look. The sight of the miniature bloom brought her to her knees. While she was down there, she snapped these photos, in order to record the event for posterity:

Kylee reported, "I just couldn't believe I didn't notice this! I've been going over the gardens with a fine-toothed comb for several days now, looking for this very thing! Sometimes you just can't see the forest for the trees. Oh well, the important thing is that this marks the beginning of the spring bulb season, a time we wait for all winter. The crocuses can't be far behind, and then there will be the tulips, daffodils, and hyacinths. This is a happy day indeed, and I encourage all Zone 5 gardeners to be vigilant so you don't miss this in your own gardens!"

Romie - a man of few words - simply smiled.

Clogging in the Garden

Thank you, Yolanda Elizabet, for reminding me that I needed new garden clogs.

Three years ago, I purchased some red Ladybugs® from Gardener's Supply. I mainly bought them because they were red, and that's my favorite color. My second reason was because they were backless and would be easy to slip on for whenever I wanted to go outside, like for getting the mail from the mailbox or feeding the cats. Who knew they'd be perfect for working in the gardens?

At the end of last year, I noticed they'd developed some cracks. My 'waterproof' rubber clogs had sprung leaks. I finished out the season in them, making a mental note to get some new ones this year. I'd forgotten about it until I read Yolanda's post, and the search was on.

Though I have an inner slob, I can be somewhat of a perfectionist in some things, and finding the perfect garden clogs at a ridiculously cheap price occupied much of my time on Monday evening. In the end, I decided I liked my Ladybugs® and they weren't expensive, so I searched the web for a good deal on another pair of those. The best I could do was $16 at Gempler's, until a geocaching friend, Mandollynn, found them for $12.99 at ValleyVet.com.

Oooh! New styles! They still offered red, but now they had light green ones with daisies all over them. I have a penchant for white daisies, so it was decided. And since they were so inexpensive, I bought a pair of plain navy ones, too. I actually got both pairs of these shoes for what I had paid for my first pair of red ones.

Now, walking around out in the yard and gardens this week made something very clear to me. These backless clogs, as practical as they are, will not prevent your feet from getting wet in the spring. I found myself tip-toeing around in them to avoid having the water ooze up to my heels, where my sock acted like a wick, soaking up this puddle and that one. This necessitated another web search for some garden boots.

My goodness, there are some cute rubber boots out there! I'll bet there's a Rubber Garden Boot Runway Show in Paris for these things. Check out Diane's Little Lambs. (And don't miss the chic umbrellas!) In another [wealthy] life, I'd have about three pairs of these, but I only want to slog about in the mud, so I settled for a pair of delicious pistachio Puddletons® from Campmor. I first saw these same boots at Plow and Hearth , except they were ten dollars more. My mama told me I'd better shop around, and I did.

My Ladybugs® and Puddletons® are scheduled to be delivered by The Man in Brown tomorrow, so I will be gardening in style. Just like Yolanda.

The Red-Wings are Back!

This was the warmest and most beautiful day of the year so far, and I had to work this afternoon. We even tied the record high for this date with a temperature of 73°. Do I have to tell you how difficult it was for me to get in that car and drive west? I'm sure my TRVL BUG likes to be out and about in this kind of weather, because all Beetles do, but work was not where I wanted to be. I was fine once I got there though, because I work with wonderful people and it's always good to see the patients I've known for over 30 years.

Daylight Saving Time went into effect last weekend, and this was three weeks earlier than normal. I absolutely LOVE Daylight Saving Time, and wish we observed it year round. Of course, I'm a night owl, so the later it stays light in the evenings, the better. That's my time of day. I couldn't care less at what hour the sun rises, because I rarely am awake in time to see that event. Sunsets are just as pretty.

Because of DST, and the fact that I got out of work on time, I was able to get out and enjoy the warm weather once I got home. I took a walk-through of the gardens and noticed that many more bulbs are coming up and more perennials are showing new growth. 'Cape Blanco' sedum is looking especially pretty.

All the snow is now gone, but the ground is still gushy and there are several areas where water lays puddled. I was really looking forward to some beautiful hellebore blooms this spring, but I don't think it's to be. After being covered by a couple feet of snow for several weeks, the thaw presented me with no blooms and not much green. The most I can hope for now, I think, is that they revive with the warmer weather.

Romie and I took a walk down to the big bridge over Blue Creek and as usual, Simba accompanied us. She takes the low road (ditch) most of the time and returns home a muddy mess. But she's 13 years old and she's a dog, so she's entitled, I suppose. Jinx used to walk with us, too.

Down at the bridge, which is known to our family as Poohsticks Bridge, Blue Creek was running high and fast. The drainage tiles were spilling runoff into the creek at a pretty good rate, too. It's pretty down by the bridge, and we walk down there and explore pretty regularly. In a couple of weeks, we'll take a walk through the small woods nearby and hopefully the wildflowers will be in bloom. There will be Dutchman's Breeches, Trout lilies, violets, Spring Beauty, and purple Trillium. But today, there's only half-green grass and a layer of corn stalks that a previous flooding has left.

As we walked back towards home, I heard several different types of birds calling, including the killdeer. I associate the killdeer with summer, so I'm glad to hear that it's back, although its distinct call becomes rather annoying about the same time I start complaining about the heat and humidity. It's interesting how differently you look at things, depending on what side of summer you're on.

I also noticed a small flock of blackbirds perched in a tree, and as I approached, I saw some flashes of...could it be? RED! There's no turning back now; spring is truly here, as evidenced by the return of the red-winged blackbird.

I love spring in my corner of Ohio. No, we don't have mountains like they do in Colorado, nor do we have forests of trees like I've seen in Michigan, but it has its own brand of beauty, even at the end of a long winter.





* Photo of Agelaius phoeniceus by Laura Erickson

Butterflies in a Bowl - Part I

A punch bowl. No kidding. I don't have a butterfly house, so I used my punch bowl and stretched pantyhose over the top.

You may recall that ten days ago, Mom and I went to the Ft. Wayne Home and Garden Show and we purchased caterpillars that will turn into Painted Lady butterflies. Both of mine have attached themselves to the paper in the lid of the little plastic Solo cup, to begin the chrysalis stage. That was my cue to remove the paper and attach it to the top of the butterfly 'house.'

In about ten more days, it will have magically become a butterfly and will wriggle out of the cocoon and flutter around. Romie suggested we just let them fly around the house, but after seeing how the kitties love to chase butterflies in the garden in the summer, I don't think that would be a good idea. It's too cold to turn them loose outside, so they will live their short lives in the punch bowl.

Life expectancy for a Painted Lady is just two weeks. Their whole purpose in life as an adult is to eat and lay eggs. Then they die. And we wonder what the meaning of life is??

It looks to me like one of the caterpillars is ahead of the other one in development. I can see the chrysalis beginning to form on the one on the right, and it has taken on a slightly different shape. The other one just looks like a caterpillar hanging upside down.

It's amazing what will happen in the next few days. The caterpillar will liquefy and special cells will be signaled by a decrease in the juvenile hormone to begin growing and form the butterfly. A couple of days before the butterfly hatches, you can see the colors of the wings through the chrysalis. In less than three minutes, the butterfly will emerge and begin drinking the liquid that remains in the chrysalis, which will course through the veins in its wrinkled wings and they will smooth out so they can then fly.


If I keep a close watch, I should be able to see all these stages. Once it has completed its metamorphosis into an adult, I hope to find some thistle or hollyhock leaves to feed it so that maybe one of them will lay eggs and start the process all over again.


*Photo of adult Vanessa cardui by Mario Maier

Green Thumb Sunday

Yesterday, as I was doing some clean-up in the gardens, I noticed the ghostly appearance of this sedum. It looks as if winter has sucked the life out of it. I probably look the same, after so long with no sun.

Join

Boing!

The first day of spring is one thing,
and the first spring day is another.
The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month.
~ Henry Van Dyke

Spring has sprung! It's the warmest day we've had this year at 54° and gloriously sunny. It was enough to lure me outside to begin the spring clean-up. I trimmed the winter kill from the mums, liriope, dianthus, lamb's ears, strawberry foxglove, iris, heuchera, vinca, grape hyacinths, and dutch iris. I cleared out some of the leaves from the beds where they had gathered over the winter.

Our oak trees never lose all their leaves by autumn's end; they lose them slowly and continually throughout the winter, so some of the leaf cover in the flower beds gets pretty thick. That's fine for most of the winter, but by this time, when things are starting to begin growing again, it's too heavy and wet. I noticed as I was removing them that the sweet woodruff has already begun putting out little green plantlets. This is one my very favorite ground covers.

The snow is melting at breakneck speed, but underneath some of that snow, there is thick ice. With the warm temperatures that are predicted for the coming week, the ice will melt quickly. I swept the winter detritus away and the symbolism of doing that was not lost on me. Who knew that the mere act of taking a broom to the patio could put me in such a good mood? Good riddance to winter!

Spring is when you feel like whistling,
even with a shoe full of slush.
~ Doug Larson

My spring fever continued when I went back in the house. I'd gotten a 72-unit Jiffy® pellet greenhouse container, and planted it with seeds of 'Whopper' red and blue pansies, 'Sungold' cherry tomatoes, 'Red Pomponette' double English Daisies, 'Fairy' Candytuft, and 'Chilly' ornamental chili peppers. Last year, I started a few things indoors, too, but I used the peat pots and potting soil. Those worked fairly well for me, but this year I thought I'd try this way. I still have a few peat pots left from last year, so I'll sow some seeds soon in those, too.

The 'Sungold' cherry tomato seeds were saved from ones we grew last year. I had read about them in Stronger Than Dirt, by Kim Schaye and Chris Losee. (Great book, by the way!) They grew them on their farm in upstate New York and took them to the farmer's markets in New York City. They were one of their bestsellers. Now I don't eat tomatoes (except in soups or sauces), so I couldn't tell you if they were tasty or not, but Romie said they were exceptionally good and sweet. So, I saved some seed and we'll have them again this year.

When spring starts acting like spring, it motivates me to get out there and do whatever I can do in the garden. And today, the thought occurred to me that God really plans things in our best interest. Spring is the time of year when things awaken s-l-o-w-l-y. It's also when we're anxious to get the show on the road, after the long, cold, dreary winter. But if summer happened all at once, we'd wear ourselves out trying to do it all. This way, we can only do so much while waiting for warmer temperatures and drier soil.

It's a good plan.

King of the Forest

God made the cat in order that man might have
the pleasure of caressing the lion.
- Fernand Mery

Yesterday was Simon's yearly trip to the vet to be groomed, meaning he gets shaved. His hair is not only very long and thick, but it's fluffy. Not silky. He's one of three cats that we own share our lives with that have long hair. Boo, whom we call our 'Pretty Boy,' is fastidious about his appearance. I only have to brush and comb him once a week to keep him in good shape. Luna, Boo's brother, couldn't care less about the whole process, yet he rarely gets matted and tangled, and if he does, it's a small matter to brush him out, because he rather likes it.

Simon HATES it. He hears the jangle of the drawer pull where I keep the brush and comb and he takes off running for the hinterlands of the house and won't come back out for hours. I have to trick him by picking him up and then getting the brush, but anymore, he's onto that tactic, too. If I so much as walk in his direction, off he goes.

Romie is always saying, "Simon needs brushing," and I say, "You do it," because you see, I have been on the receiving end of Simon's wrath. He's been declawed, so you figure out how a declawed cat defends himself. Romie will have no part of it. He's seen my arms.

So, we pay $25 and haul him off to the vet for the day, after no food and water since midnight. They won't shave him without giving him anesthetic. (Smart!) I took him in at 7:30 and we picked him up at 4:00. He was still sleepy from the anesthetic, so a day at the barber's is pretty much a lost day to him. He will lie contentedly on my lap when we bring him home, so I take advantage of that, you can be sure. Yes, once a year, Simon loves me.

The first time we had this done, we wondered how Simon would react to his new look. It must feel different to him. He weighs 16 pounds and I think they removed 12 pounds of hair. Most humans would fret about such a drastic change in their looks, but Simon loves it. He acts almost kitten-like, having a renewed bounce to his steps. The other cats take their time in getting used to this 'new' creature, doing lots of sniffing. Baby, who is the only other strictly-indoor cat and Simon's only constant companion, hisses at him. She probably thinks to herself, "Dude! What did you go and dooooooo???"

But Simon isn't bothered. He knows he is King of the Forest around here, especially with his new Lion Do.

Wish List

I suppose every gardener has a Wish List - those things that they dream of having or doing, related to their passion. It's the way of most hobbyists and collectors, and gardeners are no different.

My Wish List

• The Chelsea Flower Show - My mom has this dream of going to England for the Chelsea Flower Show, and I would love to go with her. I hope she gets to go someday. I hope I get to go someday. Going together would be the best.

"Every year, for five days in May, the grounds of the Royal Hospital, Chelsea, are transformed into the fabulous show gardens, inspirational small gardens and vibrant horticultural displays that make up the world’s most famous flower show."

• Emily Dickinson's Herbarium - At $125, this 208-page volume published in September 2006 is a tad bit expensive, even for a bibliophile like me. It is slipcovered, though...

"The herbarium has long been a part of the Emily Dickinson Collection at Houghton Library, but due to its fragility the original had been in a vault for years--the last significant Dickinson Collection item completely off-limits. Now Dickinson devotees can finally examine what lies inside with a full-size, full-color reproduction of the album published in September...Dickinson, the reclusive poet whose extensive work was discovered and published in its entirety only after her death in 1886, was better known in her lifetime for her expert gardening skills than her poetry. She helped her mother in the garden from a young age and later tended plants in her own conservatory. As Dickinson admirers know, her love of the natural world comes through in her poems, which are full of flower references and themes--making scholars particularly interested in what they might glean from her herbarium." - Harvard University Gazette

• Green Japanese Maple tree - I have a couple of dark red Japanese Maples, but I'm taken with the lime green ones. So just buy one, you're thinking. Sure......God don't make no cheap Japanese maples. Here's one that takes my breath away (Full Moon Japanese Maple):

Acer shirasawanum 'Aureum'

• A Greenhouse - I don't want a big one. And it doesn't have to be heated, although that would be nice. And since I'm dreaming here, I want it be one of those Victorian glass ones.

Oh, and I want the shelving that goes inside, too, of course.

• Honda Mini-Tiller and Digging Tines - First, I wanted a Mantis. Then I heard it didn't handle our tough clay very well, so I looked to see if there was something a little more heavy-duty and saw this one. I think it would be just the ticket. This is also on Romie's Wish List, because the large tiller we have now has issues and the reason I know this is because every time I ask him to dig up some ground, he starts whining like a little girl. And when I finally convince him to do it, it takes him a very long time to get the tiller started and the entire time he's trying, he talks to himself very, very quietly. I keep asking him what he's saying, but he won't tell me.

Honda Mini Tiller FG110 $379

And during the month of March, you can get the digging tines free. ($150 value)

• $$$$$$$$ - Unlimited funds for buying new plants, trees, shrubs, flowers, mulch, garden decor, pavers...

Well, it IS a wish list...

The Happy Hoya

My hoya is in bloom. I believe it's Hoya bella. 'Bella' means pretty, and that it is. It's the first hoya I've ever had and it was a gift from Hoppingcrow, a geocaching friend that I've never met in real life, but know online. Hoppingcrow isn't her real name, but that's how she signs the log book when she finds a geocache. Probably more than a few of you are thinking, "Huh?" Let me clear things up for you a little bit, then I'll show you the hoya.

About three years ago, Romie and I were on our way to catch a plane to Florida, and I was reading the newspaper. An article told about a game where you use a GPS receiver to find geocaches (containers with trinkets and a log book inside) that other people hide. They might be in a city park, or a nature preserve, or just about anywhere. We thought it sounded like fun and we tried it shortly after we got back home. In the last three years, we've found over 450 caches in ten states. When we want to go out and get a little fresh air and hike through the woods, we grab the GPS and go. This geocaching website explains it best.

Anyway, there are geocaching forums, and you'll find me hanging out there occasionally. It was in these forums that I met Hoppingcrow, a woman from Washington State. It's a pretty well-known fact in the forums that I love gardening, so she offered to send me some cuttings from her hoya plant. She got hers from starts she received from her hairdresser. That makes this a 'pass along plant.'

It came last summer sometime and it's done very well ever since. I've read that if you can't grow a hoya, you can't grow anything, and I'd have to say that's probably true. It's one of those plants that isn't fussy about anything. I have it hanging in a south window in our family room and more times than not, when I remember to water it, it's bone dry. And it keeps shooting out laterally from each stem. It seems to thrive on neglect!


Just this week, after several weeks of waiting for the flower clusters to open (they take a looooong time), they are blooming. Hoyas have a reputation for having a fragrance like cotton candy, but I can't smell a thing. This combination flu/cold that I've had is probably to blame for that.

This particular species of hoya originates from India. Hoyas as a genus also come from China and Australia. But it likes it just fine in my family room here in Ohio. It has grown so much that I need to take cuttings and root them in water. Then I'll be able to pay it forward and pass along cuttings from my hoya. It's the gift that keeps on giving.

So there!

I'm green with envy at the pictures I'm seeing on so many blogs of crocus and daffodils screaming, "Look at me!", hellebores lavishly clothed in exquisite frilly skirts, and even those pictures showing gardens with no more snow. I decided to put on my scarf, gloves, boots and winter coat (*sigh*) and go out in search of spring here. I'm in zone 5 and if Zone 6ers have things blooming now, surely I have some getting close. I know it's only 18° (F), but that shouldn't stop a crocus.

I planted lots of spring bulbs last fall, even to the point where I couldn't think of where to put them all. So I looked in all the places where I could remember I planted them that weren't covered up by snow and ice, and thank goodness I had my glasses on or I would have missed it.


It's not much, but it is something. Spring didn't forget me after all.

The Greenhouse in My Basement

Things are getting out of hand down there. 'Down there' being a small room in my basement, where I've got plastic shelves with shop lights hanging over them that contain grow lights. Last winter, I had enough room upstairs that all the plants I needed to overwinter, combined with my regular houseplants, could crowd around the windows and get as much light as they needed to keep going until spring. Not so, this year.


I pondered the idea of erecting a small greenhouse outside, not for major overwintering of tender plants, but rather for extending the growing season and providing a place for me to start seeds earlier in the spring. Then I decided it might not be something I want to do every year, so for now, I've got a 'greenhouse' in my basement. Things are doing quite well, even though it seems too cold down there for most of them to be anything but dormant. Fake light and a constant temperature of 63° wouldn't be my ideal existence, but the plants appear to like it just fine.

Some of them are more than fine. Last November, a couple of people from Dave's Garden sent me some brugmansia cuttings. When they came in the mail and I saw those sticks, I have to tell you I had my doubts that these were going to be as easy as they were purported to be. But I put them in water and within a few days, they had little white bumps and a couple of days later, roots! I potted them up and took them to the basement. In a few weeks, they were off and running. A couple of them even have flower buds. I've got unnamed pinks and whites, as well as 'Ollie,' 'Cupid's Blush,' 'Texas Pink,' and some Suaveolens and crosses that involved 'Ecuador Pink,' 'Isabella,' 'Firstday,' and others. And now, they need more room.


The first time I ever saw a brugmansia or Angel's Trumpet as it is more commonly known, was at Foellinger-Freimann Botanical Conservatory in Fort Wayne, IN. It was February and it was like a breath of fresh summer air, seeing all those beautiful flowers blooming like that. There was a special orchid exhibition and between those and the large brugmansia tree, the fragrance was heady.

I've also got pelargoniums, coleus, orchids, bougainvillea, hibiscus, and heliotrope down there. Our neighbor saw the lights shining through the small window after dark and asked us - with a wink - just 'what' we were growing down there. I told him if he wanted to try and smoke any of it, to just be my guest. Well, not the brugs, please, not the brugs. Those are my golden children at the moment, since I've never grown them before and I'm determined to see them through until they bloom.

If things can hang on for another six weeks or so, I can probably move a few outside to the porch. I get the feeling that some of them are tired of subsisting on winter rations. A little sunshine will do wonders. For me, too.

May the Force Be With You

Just one week ago, I took my pruners out in the cold and carefully chose a few branches from the forsythia bush to bring inside. It's that time of year when we're at the end of winter and anxious for spring, that we ambush Mother Nature and force her to play her hand. Forsythia is one of the easiest to force, and so are pussy willows. I tried the flowering quince, but the flower buds that popped out early got blasted by the cold and while I got the green leaves to show themselves, the flower buds had no life in them.

I only cut a few forsythia branches, because it blooms on the previous year's growth and I want the bush to still be beautiful when it blooms on its own time in late March/early April. Bloom time depends on the temperature of the soil, not the air.

Forsythia

The forsythia originated in Japan and was named as a genus in 1804, for William Forsyth, who was director of the Royal Garden at Kensington (England) at that time. For a history of the forsythia, a detailed account can be found at the Harvard University website.

Join

2007 Central Ohio Home & Garden Show

Whenever you see two of the same things side by side, you can't help but compare them. Yesterday, Mom and I went to the Ft. Wayne Home and Garden Show and today we traveled to Columbus to the Central Ohio Home and Garden Show. We expected to be wowed in Columbus, after seeing the much smaller Ft. Wayne show, but that was not the case. No doubt it was because the Columbus show was more home than garden. If either of us was building or remodeling, then Columbus would have been the place to be, but we were there for the gardening stuff.

The Garden Showcase, which featured what was supposed to be gardens from other countries, was beautiful even if we couldn't tell what country a garden was from without looking at the sign. Outdoor rooms was the theme for many of them, and the word of the day was 'stone.'










It was amazing to see how many creative ways stone pavers, blocks, slabs, pillars, and freeforms could be used. These displays were lavish and would cost several thousand dollars to recreate in your own yard, but bits of them could be taken and modified for use in the average backyard garden. And besides, it's always fun to dream and see how the other half lives.

By far, the most beautiful was the Japanese garden. It received a Gold Award, and it deserved it. Not only did the layout of the space contribute to the esthetics of the display, but also the use of beautiful and unique trees, shrubs, and plants. Shades of green flowed one into another and it was anything but bland, yet it didn't scream at you. It gave a feeling of peace and being at one with nature, which is what most of us enjoy most about being in our gardens.

Besides the use of stone, if there was anything else that resonated throughout the displays, it was the variegated evergreens. The lime green shades of some were fabulous, while the whitish and orangey shades made some appear to possibly be in a state of dying, even if that wasn't the case. It's a personal preference that makes you either love them or hate them.

Paul DiMeo, one of the designers for Extreme Makeover: Home Edition was a featured speaker. The team had done a makeover for the Jason Thomas family of Columbus, and they were supposed to be there, too, but we didn't hang around long enough to see them. I remember watching that episode, though, because one of the team members cut his hand while working on a wooden flag wall hanging and ended up in the hospital.

It didn't take us long to browse the displays, both home and garden, and by noon, we were on our way back towards home. We stopped at Tuttle Crossing Mall to take care of an exchange at Brookstone, and we grabbed a bite to eat at Panera Bread. We got to look in at Pottery Barn, which is always a treat since we don't have the store locally. I bought a shadow box frame on sale, and a small metal figurine of a hummingbird, which I plan to use together with a picture of one of my garden flowers.

It was another fun day, though with the way I've felt this past week (flu), I probably should have stayed home. But I just hate to miss out on anything, and now I can say that I didn't. Flu be damned.

2007 Ft. Wayne Home & Garden Show

Okay, I'm pumped.

Mom and I attended the Ft. Wayne Home and Garden Show today. There was a little bit of everything to whet our appetites for all the garden-y fun that awaits us in a few weeks, which was the point of it all. Just the smell of the mulch used in the landscaping displays was enough to make me wish it was May instead of March, not that I wasn't feeling that way already.






The orchids and ferns hanging in the entrance to the garden room set the mood immediately. That led to a lovely stone patio and water feature surrounded by tulips, daffodils, and hydrangeas. Ahhhhh...Spring!





Program books and shopping bags were provided, but Mom didn't think she'd need a bag. I was pretty sure I would, and we didn't get far before she'd changed her mind. We were taken in by the copper and glass hanging rooting vases for sale at one booth. There were so many different designs, it was hard to decide on one to take home, but we somehow managed. Next, we spent some time looking over the plant offerings by Country View Greenhouse. I was tempted by some hellebores and heucheras, but managed to resist buying potted plants just yet, since they can't be planted outside for awhile.




It seemed to me that the 'it' thing at the show was water features. There were displays from several different companies that will construct them for you. We saw some neat basalt stone pillar fountains that Mom was pretty taken with. The $800 price tag just for a group of three in graduated sizes puts them out of my range, but they were unique and just my style.







We then made our way to the Butterfly Pavilion. There, you could go into a small enclosed area, where Painted Ladies and Monarchs were fluttering about.

The Painted Ladies were very friendly and they not only landed on you, but you could put your hand near one and it would crawl on and let you hold it.



For eight dollars, you could buy two Painted Lady (Vanessa cardui) caterpillars to take home and raise through the butterfly stage. These were being sold here to benefit the American Cancer Society, so not only was it an easy way to try a fun thing, but it was for a good cause.

Next, we bought some Foxtail Lily (Eremurus stenophyllus) bulbs in both yellow and orange, six for twenty dollars, which included two starter pots, liquid plant fertilizer and bonus gladiolus bulbs and anemone corms. We sniffed the tuberose (mmmmmmm...) at the same place, but didn't buy any.

We took our purchases to the car, then returned to listen to Martha Ferguson tell about the gardens and their restoration that she oversees at the Gene Stratton-Porter State Historic Site near Rome City, Indiana. It was fascinating and she enticed us to visit when the weather is warmer. Martha is also known as 'Earth Girl' and is the author of one of our favorite garden blogs, The Good Earth. It was a joy to meet her!

We made a quick run-through in the second large room of displays, where I found and purchased a packet of seeds for the Himalayan Blue Poppy (Meconopsis betonicifolia). Now I've not yet been able to grow a poppy, let alone these somewhat temperamental ones. The seed packet says it's 'somewhat challenging', but for most gardeners, that's just an engraved invitation to try and grow it. Wish me luck.

We bought some teriyaki beef jerky and cinnamon roasted pecans and munched our way around the rest of the displays before deciding to call it a day well spent. And we're going to do it again tomorrow, when we travel to our state capital, Columbus, for the Central Ohio Home & Garden Show.

The Hippeastrum on the Shelf

My favorite winter flower grows in pots in my house - on the floor, in the window sill, on the table. I'd never grown amaryllis before last winter, but when I saw 'Papilio' in a Dutch Gardens catalog, I had to have it. Wearing stripes, as I like to do, it was a flower after my own heart. But it did not come without a price. I think it was $25, and that was more than I wanted to risk on something I knew very little about.

I shopped around the web and found one for $9 and I ordered it. Once it was here, I had to decide if I was going to suspend it on pebbles with just its roots in the water, or pot it up in soil. Since I wasn't planning on discarding the bulb once it was done blooming, I decided to plant it in a pot. By putting it in soil, I could water and feed it once it was finished blooming and the bulb would store up strength for next year's bloom.

About seven weeks later, I was rewarded for my efforts with a bloom every bit as lovely as its pictures. 'Papilio' means 'butterfly' in Latin, and we enjoyed its fluttery beauty for about two weeks. And now I was hooked. I wanted more. Walmart had the more common large-blooming varieties, such as 'Red Lion', 'Apple Blossom', 'Dazzler', and 'Minerva', and of course, there were all kinds to be had from online stores. I purchased a few more and by the end of the winter, we had had an amaryllis in bloom at any given time from Christmas on.

When it got warm enough outside, I took all my hippeastrum bulbs (that's the botanical name for the amaryllis we're talking about here) and planted them in the ground in my garden. I didn't expect them to bloom in the summer, but I did want them to have the benefit of the sunshine and nutrients from the soil and rain. And if I got lucky, maybe they would multiply by producing little offset bulblets.

When the cooler weather of fall arrived about the beginning of October, I dug up the bulbs, cut the foliage down to the top of the bulb, shook the soil off, and put them in mesh bags to store in my dark, cool basement. I left them there for about two to three months, watching for any signs of them starting to grow again. Early in December, a couple of them started to push some foliage out the top, which was my signal to pot them up again and start the blooming cycle once more.

I got a few new ones this year, of course, and we've once again enjoyed blooms pretty much the entire time since Christmas. One, in particular - 'Royal Velvet' - had me oohing and ahhing so much that Romie said one night after I'd commented for the umpteenth time what a luscious color it was, "I'm glad you're getting so much enjoyment out of that." And I really was. I couldn't stop looking at it. It was as if by looking at it so intently it would reveal the secret to its beauty. It never did, of course, but then a provocative lady never tells all her secrets, does she?

Last fall, during a visit to Mitchell Books in Fort Wayne, 'Papilio' once again caught my eye. She was the cover girl of Starr Ockenga's book, Amaryllis. Ahhh...there was another amaryllis addict. Bought the book. Drooled over it all the way home.

And now I present to you some of the members of my Harem of Hippies: