Bloomin’ Update 36: Wish You Were Here


Joe, also known as “Joey Coconuts,” and I are spending Christmas week in South Florida.  When I tell that to people, their reactions usually fall into one of two categories.  First, there are those who would like to jump into my luggage.  Sure!  Then, there are those who wonder if a South Florida Christmas can even feel like Christmas.  It does, only it’s warmer.

The only moment when both groups are in agreement is when they stare, speechless, after I explain that Joe and I are going to Florida to do yard work.  Yes, that’s the perfect vacation — and since there isn’t too much time to write, I thought I would share some photos.

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And So This Is Christmas


Santa 2

This is not the post I planned for today.  I originally wanted to write something funny about one of my favorite holiday films, Christmas In Connecticut, or poke fun at myself for crying over Christmas carols, like Darlene Love’s “Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home).”

Today, though, I have a need to write a long post (my apologies) about a very different Christmas in Connecticut, a very different Christmas in America — and the idea that I, and I think most of us, cannot stop crying — with or without Christmas carols.   For me, the overwhelming sadness is just below the skin.  It doesn’t take much — the news, a moment of silence, an overheard conversation — to unleash a flood of tears.

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That’s A Wrap!


I hope you don’t mind, but in honor of Thanksgiving, I’m offering some leftovers — in the form of a repost.  I’ve reworked it a bit to make it more palatable, but the gist is the same: a couple of crazy Long Islanders will do just about anything to give their yard a tropical look.  Besides, it’s way to cold and blustery today — too cold to hold the camera to redocument this process.

Enjoy — and fresh material is on its way.

I may be the gardener of the house, but Joe also has his landscape loves.  One of his greatest is palm trees.  His absolute fave is Cocos nucifera, the coconut palm.  If it were up to him, coconut palms would be growing everywhere.  We often joke that he would be to coconut palms what Johnny Appleseed was  to apples — only he would be called Joey Coconuts, which does sound a little — alright, a lot — like a character from “The Sopranos.”

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Bloomin’ Update 35: Uncle!


Dahlia leaves didn’t appreciate the post-Sandy freeze.

This was supposed to be a post about how I kept myself occupied after Sandy while waiting for my work to resume.  Schools have been closed since the storm.

Fortunately, Joe and I had power throughout the Sandy ordeal, but the gas shortage had me staying close to home — which gave me the perfect chance to clean the yard.

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The Saddest Gardener In The World


Okay, maybe not in the entire world – but certainly in my world.

This is the first weekend where fall really feels like fall – as in leaf fall, temperature fall, and mood fall.   As much as I would love to live in denial and believe that I can still put on a pair of shorts and sandals and play like it’s July, the cold front that came in last night has proven that the calendar is indeed correct.

Today was a day to begin cleaning up the fall.

The first order of business was to hack and dig the tropicals and prepare them for winter storage.  The sensible voice in my head knew that this was a mercy killing, a necessary evil so that the canna and elephant ears may live to see another summer – at least in my zone 6/7 garden.  But the emotional voice inside of me said, “Waaaaaahhhhhhh.”

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Bloomin’ Update 33: See You In September


Black-Eyed Susan.

It seems fitting that after an interesting amd intense couple of days, I have to extend my thanks to a few people.

First up is Cheri, a WordPress editor, who selected my previous post about 9/11 to be Freshly Pressed.  That means that my blog, for a few days, was one of the featured sites on WordPress — and the response, as you can imagine, was overwhelming.

That brings me to the other people I would like to thank.  You.  All of you.  All 2,400+ readers and the 200+ who chose to follow this site.  I cannot even begin to explain how much your comments and likes meant — and how absolutely moving your comments were.  I’ve had the chance to “meet” people from all over the world, to read of their memories, and to visit other amazing blogs.

And now that the rush has fallen off, it’s time to get back into the garden.  The September garden is an interesting place.  Some plants are worn out and tired, while others appear to be putting on quite a show — like a fireworks finale.  I’m not sure if the hint of cooler weather is rejuvenating their energy, or if they somehow know their end is near.

One thing is certain, though.  All of the plants — and this gardener, as well — are ready for a chance to re-energize for the next growing season.

So, without further delay, here is a stroll through the garden and a look at the blooms from the closing days of summer.

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A Labor Of Love — Lost


It’s Labor Day weekend – a time tailor-made for beaches, barbecues, parades, and speeches.  But on this particular holiday, I’m staring at the remains of a small, neighborhood garden center on Long Island.

I’m not sure exactly what happened here.  Did the owner retire, unable to sell the business?  Did some sort of illness interfere?  Was the small nursery unable to compete against the box stores that sprout like weeds?  Or perhaps, this nursery is just another victim of an economy that has failed to thrive?

It’s amazing how quickly the weeds and wildflowers have turned this once manicured plot into an overgrown prairie.  Slowly, however, it gives up its secrets.

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Breaking Up With August Is Hard To Do


Hi, August.  It’s me.

Listen, I’m not going to beat around the bush on this one.  I’m just going to dive in and let you know . . .

It’s over between us.  I know I waited until the end of your days to tell you this, but I was really hoping you and I could have worked things out – maybe come to some sort of agreement on the nature of our relationship.  That seems to be out of the question now.

Each year, I hope to look forward to your arrival, but you are very skilled at trying my patience – and as quickly as my expectations rise, you find every opportunity to walk all over them.

Take my impatiens.  Please.  When I first saw that they weren’t thriving, that their stems were barren of leaves, I blamed myself (not enough water).  Then I blamed the slugs (they had to be munching all night).  And then I learned about the fungus.  Maybe you didn’t create the fungus, but your heat, humidity, and rain games certainly didn’t help.

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Elephant Ear Gives Birth — LIVE!


A close-up of one of one of the original Elephant Ears in the garden.

This post has been a long time in the making – months, as a matter of fact.

At the start of the growing season, I was strolling through one of the big box stores and found a corm for a red/purple/black leafed variety.  I had seen this same plant in many of the seed catalogs – but in this store, the price was more than right.  It was an elephant-sized bargain.

Once the plant began to grow, however, the only thing true about the advertised color was the stems – strong and purplish black.  The leaves, on the other hand, were greener (and smaller, by the way) – not the same bright green as my other Elephant Ears, but green with hints of darker tones.  In other words, they weren’t the red/purple/black on the packaging.

A close-up of the new arrival. It may not be as green as the original, but it still has its charms.

Although slightly disappointed with the result, I soon found myself drawn to my new plant, especially the glossiness of the leaves.  They were so shiny, in fact, that they looked fake, as if they stepped right off of the Munchkinland set in The Wizard of Oz.

And then I witnessed the miracle of an Elephant Ear leaf birth – the agonizingly slow unfurling of a new leaf emerging from the purple/black stem.

Over the next few weeks, I stood in the same spot to document the debut – like a proud papa tapping on the nursery window.

Weeks since it first emerged from the stem, the leaf is still stretching and growing to to its full size.  Whoever said they grow so fast these days, never had an Elephant Ear.

Happy gardening!

Bloomin’ Update 32: Lost In The Planting Fields


Anthurium

Gardening is a gift that keeps on giving – and this is especially true of the Planting Fields Arboretum, a jewel of a gift on Long Island’s Gold Coast.

William Robertson Coe, who made his fortune in marine insurance, built the mansion in 1921 in the style of a 16th century Elizabethan country home – but it’s the park-like 409-acre estate, designed by the Olmsted brothers, that brings gardening enthusiasts, walkers, brides, and myself back in time.

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