I'm Thinking…No!

All of us have tales of Thanksgivings past that solicit smiles and warm memories of the holidays.  These are some of my favorites. Continue reading “Thanksgiving – A Day to Give Thanks and Remember”

An interesting experience this week leads me to write today’s blog.  My daughter was teaching a section of a class in the development of television as part of her teaching assistant responsibilities, and, having been in the classroom for, well, thirty-eight years, I wanted to see her in action.  I took my seat in the back of a small, amphitheater-style lecture hall, where I had a vantage point that allowed me to see all of the students in the class.  It was gratifying to see how well she did – her presentation was smooth and polished, but of far greater importance, her talk was light and engaging, with video clips and humor to keep students with her.  Both the professor for whom she is a teaching assistant, and her advisor in the department mentioned to me how much they love her and enjoy working with her.  As a parent, there is nothing better to hear. Continue reading “Back in the Classroom”

Every so often, items pop into our consciousness  that provoke a variety of responses – amusement, anger, depression, frustration.  It runs the emotional gamut.   Someone shooting at a rival gang member down a street crowded with children trick-or-treating.  There was no thought process, it was a see-and-shoot reaction. In this case, probably a young person whose brain hasn’t developed a fully mature sense of “I really shouldn’t do that.” Continue reading “More of Life’s Ironies”

In an effort to expand our horizons and market a bit more extensively, I thought I might do an overview of Food blogging and the people that do that.  In fact, I’ve seen a number of people (primarily on House Hunters, but you already know that I’m addicted) that need showplace kitchens because they need to take pictures or film food videos there.  I was going to take a picture last night of a particularly attractive Italian Crescent Bake that I’d made – the crescent rolls on top were just a perfect golden brown – but I got distracted and forgot to take a picture until it was half eaten. Oh, well.  You folks missed a beauty. Continue reading “Food Blogging”

Do you ever see somebody doing something, or the remnants of their actions and wonder, “What exactly is or was their thought process here?”  Do they not understand how things operate?  Is it laziness or a lack of brainpower that doesn’t permit people to see how they’ve managed to screw up something reasonably simple? Continue reading “Unclear On The Concept”

A great deal is made of “rescue” pets – animals that are abandoned, get lost in a catastrophic storm, or somehow just get separated from their owners and wind up in a shelter.  One of my previous blogs about pet parents notwithstanding, this is a tragic situation that often results in animal suffering.  We all share concern because we hate to see that.  Lost in the publicity, however, is the hapless plight of countless plants that are abandoned to nature and the elements.  I know this because I’m one of the perpetrators – as the cold weather and frost descends on New England, I can only bring in so many plants before our house begins to resemble a room at the Botanical Gardens.

I will say that my wife shows considerable patience when my babies come in for the winter.  I don’t usually bring in containers that have been outside because a) we only have so many windows in which I can put them and b) there may be bugs, worms, slugs, and other not-really-inside beasties that have taken up residence in the plants or the soil beneath them.  Most of us don’t consider insects as house pets per se, so their invasion can be problematic.  I do spray a blanket of insecticide over everything, whether it was on the screened porch or remained inside just to be safe.  However, Herself does blame any semblance of bug-life on my plants, seeing a direct cause-effect.  I don’t see it.

I should provide my readers with a definition of “rescue” plants.  These are specific ones for whom, for one reason or another, we’ve developed an attachment.  For the novice, there are two distinct categories of rescue plants.

#1. These are the plants for which there is anxiety and mild depression in any separation.  We can’t let them go, sometimes despite medications and therapy.  These are the ones that we bring into the house when the weather violates their delicate sensibilities.  (Some folks are not aware that plants have feelings.  They need to be coddled when the weather is too cold, too hot, too much sunlight or not enough water.)  I usually keep these in containers so I can bring them in easily and don’t have to dig large holes in the garden.

#2. The second category involves those that we protect that remain outside.  We put mulch, straw, hay, whatever it takes to protect them from the winter storms.  They are, however, outdoor plants, and bringing them in would be like putting mittens on a squirrel. Included in this category are the “transitional” plants.  They won’t make it through the winter, but we’re not quite ready to give them the old toss out back in the woods.  So, we either cover them each night that a frost is predicted, or in my case, I put them in the garage where it’s not too cold and they won’t get the sniffles. Sometimes I throw a little decongestant into the watering can before closing the garage door.  I usually do this for the first three or four predicted frosts or until the last week of October, whichever comes first.  Typically, while I do feel badly that they’re outside and I’m not, once the frost gets them and they look all blackish and droopy, I can throw them out with a clear conscience.

Plants tend to hit us where we’re at our most vulnerable emotionally.  If they’re still blossoming, which my roses are right now, then the arrival of cold weather provokes a deep sadness.  Those that have pretty much given up the ghost and seem to know what’s coming because their leaves turn brown or yellow and shrivel up, they’re the easiest to say goodbye to until next year.  The holly bushes perk up my mood because they generally look good most of the time, and their red berries lend a sparkle to the landscape.  It’s also time to plant the bulbs for spring, which gives hope to the next growing season.  I’m slowly moving toward daffodils because tulips give me one spectacular year, and then they only give a half-hearted attempt at foliage the next – kind of like saying, “we’re up – don’t push your luck”. I do have one yellow tulip, and only the one, that’s been coming up like a little soldier each year for about three or four years.  That’s the kind of pluckiness and courage that I applaud and respect from members of the plant kingdom.

This year, in addition to my regulars, I rescued two begonias.  One came from the flowerbox on the front porch and the other from a container by the back door.  They have been blooming profusely in recent weeks, and I just didn’t have it in my heart to toss them because I’ve been walking by them every day, admiring their perkiness.  I dug them out carefully and put them into a new container.  There was, of course, space left over, so I had to make an emergency run to the nursery’s greenhouse to buy another plant to fill in.  This is a very nice one with silvery leaves, and it sets off the flowers of the others nicely. Problem solved, although I am a bit over  my “new plant” quota for the year.  Another bit of our daughter’s inheritance gone. I don’t usually intend to buy more plants this time of year because it’s also the time to buy pumpkins and gourds and corn wrapped in orange ribbons. It is necessary, however, to purchase replacement plants for the indoor ones that have sadly let themselves go.

I was out in the garden recently to plant some poppy seeds that a wonderful friend gave me.  The nice thing about these seeds is that you really just sprinkle them over the soil.  They’re so small that you don’t have to dig holes for them. That’s my kind of planting.  I can’t wait to see them in the spring.

So, getting back to the central premise from which I’ve long since departed, it’s high time we galvanized the forces of plant preservation.  I’m thinking a national campaign, something like an “The Time Is Now – Rescue a Plant!”, “Don’t Build a Wall, Plant a Grove”, or “A Tree Used to Grow in Brooklyn. Now it’s a rotary.”  This will shine a bright spotlight on plants that, unloved and neglected, will cease to bloom, will stop thrusting their leafy greens skyward, and will end up on a compost pile or covering up an asbestos dump.  We need to rescue the plants that won’t survive another year without our love and help.  Jump on the bandwagon, everyone.  Plan a fundraiser or organize a telethon in support to annuals and fragile perennials.  Write a check and send it to www.saveabegonia.org.  Let’s contact FEMA and prepare to airlift delicate plants from Zones 2 and 3 to Zones 8 and 9, or away from flood zones. Together, we can make senseless plant suffering a thing of the past.  Good.  I’m fully engaged and onto something positive. Now I’m off to clear off the deck, put the furniture away, and throw out the. . . . . . oops.

 

PS from Herself:

Help, I am surrounded by plants and I live in a rain forest.  If you don’t hear from me in a few days come dig through the plants and BUGS to find my body!!

PPS:  She’s totally overreacting.

 

 

 

 

 

If you’ve never read Stephen Leacock’s Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town, you’ve missed something. In fact, I just ordered a copy so I could reread it. I haven’t seen it since my college days, more years ago than I care to count. Predating Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon by just shy of a century, but much in the same vein, Leacock tells, as only a master storyteller can, the hilarious goings-on in a small town, where everyone knows each other and a significant number are blood relations.  It reminds me a great deal of the small New Hampshire town in which I grew up, with its two-room schoolhouse, post office in the general store, and one twenty-year-old fire engine.  Indeed, many of the locals were related to each other, coming primarily from two prominent families.  Here are a few bits and pieces of East Sullivan. Continue reading “My Own Sunshine Sketches”

No, not my age.  This is my 100^thblog, unless I’ve miscounted, in which case, it could be 99 or 101.  But I’m pretty sure we’ve reached a milestone.  So, how to celebrate?  How to fully appreciate the moment?  Should I open a bottle of champagne?  Collect them all into a book for those that have been persistent, one might say stubbornly dogged readers that have been with me for three years and are the backbone of my success?  I should mention in all modesty that I also reached a milestone in that 159 people (or robots randomly searching) viewed my blog one day recently – a personal best. On the flip side, I’m off this morning to buy a new computer because this one, my old buddy, has been updated once too many times and the processors are swirling around with the speed of erosion in the Grand Canyon, begging to be retired. Continue reading “A Milestone at 100”

Well, it’s another year since I started these weekly proclamations of joy, and I’d like to again to thank my handfuls of faithful readers that respond just enough to keep me going.  And while I don’t have the readership of, say, Conan Doyle or J. K. Rawling, the new season seems a fine moment to comment on the changes that humans and nature bring, for better or worse.  It’s also a nice time for me to steal bits and pieces of last year’s ode so I don’t have to start from scratch. Continue reading “Ode to Fall 2019 (or Pumpkin Spice and EEE)”

In one of my recent blogs, I mentioned a “dog blogger” that appeared on an episode of House Hunters. This person needed a special “doggie bedroom” where the “doggie beds” could be placed, because we all know that the stereotypical dog sleeping at the foot of its owners’ bed gives the dog a total lack of privacy.  There’s been a steady building of pet independence, leading to wonderful inventions like the “doggie door” that lets all manner of wild animals into your house. Continue reading “Pet Parenting (Going Way Overboard)”