Humor

Repost: Lily’s Grand Opening

/ Kevin / 16 Comments

I’m still in South Florida and while here, I’m thinking of there — my Long Island garden.  Before Joe and I left, the bud of my Stargazer Lily was setting itself up to bloom.  I just know that by now, nearly two weeks since we left, I missed Lily’s grand opening — and divas hate that.  So in an effort to make amends with Lily, I offer you this repost.

The stars are ageless, aren’t they?

Let me first begin by saying that this is not the post that I had planned — but some plants tend to be divas. My initial idea was to give you a “Bloomin’ Update,” with a series of photos documenting the opening of a lily. My one and only lily that hasn’t been seen in years. To use a film reference, this lily is my very own Norma Desmond of Sunset Boulevard fame.

This post actually began long ago, well before there was a blog. I had planted three lilies in what I will call the perennial garden. In fact, the perennial garden was really my first attempt at gardening, and I felt the need to fill it with as many flowers as I could order, purchase, find, borrow, root. There was really no rhyme or reason. Regardless, the lilies bloomed beautifully, but their perfume was overpowering. At times, I wasn’t sure if I was smelling my yard or the funeral home that backs against the woods behind my property.

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Re-Post: Do You Suffer From G-SAD?

/ Kevin / 32 Comments

This post first appeared nearly a year ago, and since I am somewhere on a highway on my way to a vacation and faraway from any Internet service , I thought it was quite appropriate to revisit the anxiety that I feel when I have to leave my garden in someone else’s hands.  For longtime readers, I apologize for this repeat broadcast; for new readers, I hope you enjoy.

I have done what every therapist and doctor advises people not to do. I have self-diagnosed, but let me first explain.

It’s summertime, and Joe and I are going on vacation for a few days. It’s a chance to relax, to get away from everything, to reconnect, to breathe. In actuality, though, the days leading up to departure mean a growing sense of unease and worry. I become consumed with obsessive thoughts, anxiety, and stress — and none of it comes from the what-to-pack, what-not-to-pack scenario, nor from the airport pat-down, nor from who will mind the dog and the cat, nor from the last-second question, “Did I remember to take my trusted Swiss army knife out of my carry-on?” No. For me, the physical-emotional symptoms stem from leaving my garden and entrusting its care to someone other than myself. I am now calling these symptoms Garden Separation Anxiety Disorder, also known as G-SAD, as in, “Gee, That’s sad.”

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Smile, You’re On Arachnid Camera!

/ Kevin / 31 Comments

Have you ever caught yourself looking so ridiculous that you say to yourself, “I’m glad I’m not the subject of a hidden camera show.”

That is my thought each morning as I leave the house, walk to the car, and feel the silky threads of spider webs across my face.  And this morning was no different, as I tried to balance my briefcase and tote bag while frantically wiping the sticky filaments away  —  only to feel them invisibly drag across my ears and into my hair.

When I remember to, I’ll leave the house empty handed – so I can walk to the car swinging my arms in front of me like a malfunctioning robot to knock down any webs that might be at face level.  Then I’ll walk back to the house, grab the brief case and tote bag, and race back to the car before the little buggers have a chance to reload.  (I suppose a broom handle could accomplish the same thing, but that would look odd — wouldn’t it?)

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Weeding Is Fundamental

/ Kevin / 32 Comments

I love a good weed.  It’s when I feel that I am most in my head, when I do my best thinking, when my imagination wanders up and down and sideways.

That’s the way it was this weekend when I knelt down to begin weeding the bed that’s wedged between a blue stone patio and a row of white pines growing in a bed of ivy behind a low stone wall.  In truth, I began working on this bed weeks ago, when I cleaned it, weeded it, and planted the Gomphrena “Strawberry Fields” that I had started from seed.

And that’s where the work ended.  Now all I see is the Gomphrena swallowed up by a new flush of weeds because I never had the chance or the time to place mulch.  It’s uncanny how the driest stretch of my yard, heated by the surrounding stonework, is the perfect home for weeds.   

As I pulled and yanked, my green world became black and white and I imagined myself in a 1940s film noir flick.  In it, I’m in a chair, a beam of light aimed at me and throwing the far corners of the room into shadows.  There’s a detective hovering above me, hair slicked back, hands on his waste so I can see his gun holstered under his jacket.

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Book Review: Wicked Bugs

/ Kevin / 28 Comments

I’m good when it comes to bugs.  For the most part.

I mean, I generally do not become hysterical when I cross paths with a 6- or 8-legged creature.  In fact, there are some bugs I actually enjoy.  I’m captivated by a trail of ants going about its journey; I love the sultry summer chirp of cicadas; I’m totally in love with praying mantis; I’m mesmerized by the flicker of lightning bugs; I’m completely overjoyed by the arrival of a butterfly (which is why it received top billing);  and when it comes to bees, we have a firm understanding.  I’ll let them do their work, if they let me do mine.

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And The Giveaway Winner Is . . .

/ Kevin / 14 Comments

Not so fast.  Did you really think I would just announce the winner of the garden tools/seed embedded products giveaway without some sort of build up?  If all of these home/garden/fashion makeover shows can drag on for an hour until the big reveal, I’m sure I can come up with a few hundred words.

Actually, I want to thank everyone who participated by adding their advice.  That was, after all,  the goal of the giveway — the chance to plant a seed and hope that it would germinate, take root, and grow.  Thanks to all of you, there is now a garden of information.

Some of the best gardening advice was instructional: “I ‘plant’ a milk jug beside each tomato plant.  Each jug has three small holes in the bottom side, aiming at the tomato plant’s roots.  Each jug is filled with water every day – at any time of day – to let the water seep in at the root zone.  Keep the caps to keep bugs and debris out of the jugs, but don’t screw them down tight, or you’ll stop the flow of water.” Cindyricksgers

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Bloomin’ Update 22: Making Love To The Camera

/ Kevin / 32 Comments

There are days when I no longer feel like a gardener.  There are days when I feel more like a fashion photographer, coordinating colors, waiting for the perfect light, and soothing the tender egos.  As I take out the camera, they’re on — strutting and seductive as they all aim to get the cover of Vogue or Elle or Better Homes and Gardens.

“Yes.  That’s the shot.”

Bleeding Heart

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Hosta La Vista, Baby

/ Kevin / 31 Comments

Today, I became a man.

Today, I channeled my inner Schwarzenegger, and tackled a division of Hostas – or rather, Hosta division.

The thought occurred to me that the Hostas in the front bed were getting quite large and needed to be divided.  Actually, that thought occurred to me years ago –and Joe has reminded me of this each season.  I always fell back on it’s just not the right time of year to divide – but the shelf life of that excuse was long exhausted.

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Bloomin’ Update 20: Bulbalicious!

/ Kevin / 36 Comments

The other day when I pulled into the driveway and stepped from my car, I was overcome by the sweet perfume scent of Hyacinths.  It’s a smell that I call intoxicating.  In fact, I’ve referred to this scent as intoxicating so often and for so many years that it has become a sort of running joke between myself and Joe. 

“Can you smell that?” I begin.  “It’s . . . “

“I know, I know,” answers Joe.  “It’s intoxicating.”

Now I’m thinking of breaking out of predictability with a new description for Hyacinth — and I’m going with Bulbalicious.  I figure if the vernacular can work for Beyonce, why not Hyacinth?

While Hyacinth may be the headliner on the Spring stage, we mustn’t overlook the supporting bloomers.  Afterall, we all know what happened to Diana Ross & the Supremes.  Besides, these back-up harmonizers are all Bulbalicious in their own right.

Tulip — a little shy now, but emerging slowly.

What’s her name again?  I’m not sure what to call this dainty flower, but she’s reliable.

Watch out for Muscari.  With a name like that, she’s the vixen of the bunch, and she just might push Hyacinth out of the spotlight.  In fact, I believe she’s exploring a film role as a tree in a Dr. Seuss movie.

At this time of year, I have all the drama and diva attitudes I can handle right in the garden. What’s that I hear? “And I am telling you, I’m not going. . . You’re gonna love me . . .”  

Bulbalicious all the way.

 

 

Waiting For The Big O (you know, as in orchid)

/ Kevin / 47 Comments

That headline sums up what I felt when I spotted this orchid in a south Florida box store (rhymes with Gnome Repo).  I know that an eventual move to Fort Lauderdale would require some adjustments and adaptations and learning, but nothing quite prepared me for orchid fever.  From their smiling faces to their vibrant colors, from their graceful bounce to the way their blooms line up along the stem — I find myself completely entranced.

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