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Posts Tagged ‘Gardening’

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We joke, sometimes, about cats lying on their backs “with all the pointy bits [pointing] up.  These cacti hardly have any section that is not being pointy in multiple directions!

And for good measure, here’s a spikey thing by Chihully:

 

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Ah, the beauty of the Denver Botanic Gardens….

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The Ailanthus moth feeds on nectar, but the young feed on Ailanthus leaves. As we are NOT fond of ‘Stink Trees’, we find this visitor downright patriotic. 

  

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The NY Times just had an article speculating about whether, given the existence of specific brain anatomy, bees might have some form of awareness.  They rule out “why” questions, like “why am I not queen?”, but I can easily imagine that awareness might include some form of “Whew!”….as in…

“Unit has successfully avoided being eaten”

or

“Unit is wet. Unit does not have stable footing. Unit is out of correct operating temperature range…. NEW DATA: stable footing.  NEW DATA: sunlight and warmth.  NEW DATA: food available…. PROCESSING….”

…which really means that I’ve fished another three bees out of a bucket of rainwater and set them out to dry on dandelion flowers…

 

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Underwood-Over-Grass

Let’s not tell Smiling Typewriter about this…..

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In light of the fact that we can typically get raspberries from our yard in December, I’m thinking more and more about an edible hedgerow.  Raspberries, beautyberries [native], maybe more quince…

If I do, chances are, I’ll order from Nourse Farms…. Unless you have some suggestions for me…?

Heck, maybe a rose known for its hips rather than its blossoms might be fun, too.

UPDATE: A helpful friend sent this image of “a rose with hips”:

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That friend, of course, did not have to live through wearing the massively-flowered dresses of the late 80s/early 90s.  Mine were at least knee-length though….

Here’s hoping the rest of the winter is temperate enough that the figs don’t get frozen to their roots again.  I miss having handfuls of figs to eat in late summer.

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Seriously.  People grumble about weather in the 40s and this is happening down the block:

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I should be grateful at least evening looks about right:

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There were bees out today.  I’m happy for them being able to get a last snack or two, but really.  BEES?

Fine.  Click through to some hysterical Torch Songs in which the word ‘Me’ has been replaced by “Bees”.

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Some kids just like sticks.  Sticks to carry around, sticks to walk with, imaginary javelins, machetes, any number of THINGS that a child might need to be able to wield…

Sticks-CloseupMy walk to school was along paved streets and through reasonably-well-manicured patches of gardens, but still, I could find a stick when I wanted one to carry as I walked to school.  Sometimes I’d store favorite walking sticks in the scraggly boxwood shrub just at the edge of the local dentist’s office property. That as as close as you could get to school property; the bush grew right against the concrete berm which held the posts of the school’s chain-link fence.

At home, sticks were even more functional — my father used his real machete to trim branches from trees down into stakes for tomato plants, zucchini, eggplants, loofa squash [that never set fruit, but it was fun to keep trying]…. sugar snap peas, morning glories…. These sticks were much taller, and had sharpened points to enable them to be set deeply enough to hold the vines and trellises.  Local spiders were fond of these structures as well, and the neighbors knew that flashlights shining in our yard on a summer’s evening meant not that there were burglars, but that we were out watching webs being built and moths being caught.

Now the tables turn a bit — I have crabapple, oak, chokecherry, river birch, and maple trees that need pruning, and my parents didn’t take the stakes with them when they moved — so what you see above is a sampling of the stakes I brought them.  Granted, I may also need to bring them some decent dirt, too, but the gardening continues…

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I just harvested my first golden raspberries this weekend [they did not last long enough for pictures; Word and I devoured them right promptly], and there’s been some speculation about whether or not these are anything like the cloudberries my grandmother talked about gathering as a child in Norway. That’s not a question I can ask her anytime soon, and I have no absolute convictions about whether the departed can look across the veil to see what we’re up to here. BrightCloudEdgeBut if they could, I would hope that the Meadow looked welcoming; that they’d look past the overgrown hedges and be understanding about the incredible amount of rain that’s been making mowing impossible. HighSummerFlowersLook over this way: I’ve edged most of the perennial beds with bricks.  Look over there: the daylilies have started and the monarda is looking fine.  We’d like a patio over here, with space for a grill or firepit.  Maybe put a little pond over in this section, with a motorized spring to keep the bugs under control, and ceramic koi on clever little sticks… BrickEdgedBedsDragonflies dart here. Hummingbirds and hawkmoths know to stop by.  In the winter, the hop-pop birdies scratch around for all the aster seeds.  This year’s asters haven’t started yet, but I can see the buds starting to set…. These are the signals I send, to say ‘One of our kind lives here.’ ‘Times have changed, but not so much.”  “Hello!  I remember!” This is how I leave the light on, just in case….

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