A sucker for an Irish Indie singer

Made popular by The Frames - for the movie Once.

Pink - Who Knew

Pause in July

Here in the south we're sitting smack in the middle of my least favorite time of year. The air is so thick and humid - and here in the Atlanta Metro pollution bubble, so toxic - that it's chewy. And in July, while my motivation was to do nothing outside, I have been hard on myself. Other people get outside. Other people continue keep their gardens meticulously. Others keep their bird feeders filled religiously.
Well, so what.
So while my tomatoes are still producing, some (not all) of my heirlooms are gearing up to offer me their first fruits, while my serrano peppers and tomatillos are loaded to the gills, while my viburnums and hydrangeas are establishing themselves, while my gardenia shrub is producing fragrant and fragile blossoms, while my coral bells are spreading and my backyard is becoming an incubator for eastern bluebirds, northern red cardinals and towhees, I am coasting through the hottest and my least favorite time of the year. If I lived in a different climate, I'd be doing different things. In the south, I make sure air conditioning and ceiling fans are in ample supply.
Everything I just mentioned above? I planted that. In the spring. When the weather was civilized. It's officially one of my most productive years on record. And I can be proud of it. I enjoyed it, and I don't think it was just a fluke.
But I'm giving myself permission to hate July.
So can we get on with fall, please? July's heat has been brutal. Time for an early retirement.

--Laura

Not dead

It's been a long time since my last post. A very long time. It's garden season, and times I would normally spend posting are now taken up with watering.
A heat wave has hit Georgia.
Normally, you can always count on help from Mother Nature in the early summer. Humidity rises, afternoon and evening thunderstorms are then normal. The last two weeks, however, there's been none of that. While humidity may begin at 60% in the morning, it drops dramatically during the day. There's been no rain since the tornado storm just before Memorial Day weekend, and a forecast for rainless days stretches out through next weekend at least.
What's in my garden this year? I'm glad you asked.
I planted spring peas, though I probably should have gotten them in earlier than I did, so they'd be higher by now. I suspect their days are numbered in this heat, but they are producing right now. I'm a little too impatient to wait for them to make peas, but I have about a handful in a bag in my fridge - they are great cool snacks. In the same bed, I planted cucumbers. As the peas begin to die back, they will leave room for the cucumber plants. The cucumbers are thriving in the heat and loaded with blooms.
In the next bed, green bell peppers and serrano peppers. I have never grown serranos, and I'm beginning to question that decision, as I assumed they would need the same growing conditions. Serranos however are a mountain region pepper, preferring less water than the bells. While a container may not be the ideal location, I think I am going to put my last serranos in a large container so I can control the amount of water they get.
Another new addition to my garden are tomatillos. I've had spotty success with those plants, but three or four of them have settled in the third raised bed and are creating healthy looking thick main stems. At this point, I can't tell if any of the PURPLE tomatillos survived - in the early stages, if plants failed, I switched them out with seedlings I had in pots, so I'm not really sure what died.
But seriously, who doesn't want to see a purple tomatillo?
Next, zucchini and crooked neck yellow squash. Doing great. Normally I have to worry about chipmunks munching on the squash, but this year I took a large roll of bird netting and tacked it down with plastic spikes. This netting isn't strong, but it's diaphanous. It's like trying to walk through strong spider webs. I think anything trying to approach it would avoid it to avoid getting tangled in it. I hope it will hold out until I get at least one of each of the vegetables in there. Last year, the chipmunks cleaned me out.
My hybrid tomatoes are looking great, and are growing so well I'm struggling to keep them fed and watered well enough to accommodate their growth. They are utterly loaded with fruits - romas, early girls, pear tomatoes, better boys. Again, waiting for them to ripen is now like watching a pot in pre-boil stage.
Finally, there are the heirlooms, whose slow growth rate continue to confound me. Here's the heirloom list: Arkansas Traveller, Big Rainbow, Black Krim, Brandywine, German Johnson and Pruden's Purple. Where the hybrids are growing out of control, these hybrids are barely 8 inches tall. As was recommended, I amended them all with both compost and lime. Perhaps what's happening is they are building beautiful roots. I'm not sure. So far, they've been like the sea monkeys for me - beautiful pictures, no fruits. This morning, I realized that the seedlings I kept in pots looked better than the ones in the larger raised bed, so I dug out an area next to the raised bed, pulled weeds, and planted the remaining seedlings directly in the dirt.
I feel pretty blessed actually, to have the extra plants left, enabling me to experiment to find the best growing conditions. I'm also blessed with good enough health to have the stamina to stay out there in the morning heat. I'm blessed with enough interest to experiment. I think that's what gardening is, really, a spirit for experimentation. You're just not going to find the right conditions for everything on the first try.
So that's my vegetable garden. Additionally, earlier this year I added 4 hydrangeas to the family. One, unfortunately, was popped off at the base by a rather large limb. But my autumn ferns survived the early snow and ice, my heurcheras (caramel) are growing well both in shade and full sun, and my new viburnums are hanging in there, though this week has been tough on the last. I am fertlizing and watering and hoping for the best.
It's enough to keep you busy all summer.
I will post pictures sometime soon. After watering.

--Laura

April 1

I'm not writing a gag here. I've enjoyed a few today, but my mind's not in it. And lately, my mind hasn't been much in writing, except in the most random fashion. There's too much going on. My evenings lately have been about savoring the fruits of my early spring labor. I've planted viburnum (spring bouquet) with the hopes they will grow into pleasant shrubs along the side yard. I've planted hydrangea in the backyard, with the hopes they will grace my backyard with some old-fashioned charm. I've planted coral bells with the hopes they will just settle in and spread out in a admirable fashion. I've trimmed, fertilized, burned, trimmed again. Everything is showing new growth. My blueberry bushes were given some serious TLC. They have responded with some of the best growth I've seen in a single season. Turns out, six years after planting them, I've just learned how I've been supposed to care for them. And then came the rains. Gentle, quiet rains, at least in my neighborhood. Some were not so lucky, getting windshield busting hail. Not here. Not in my backyard. All those roots got consistent gentle watering, and I hope they all dug in firmly to the pretty black compost I planted them in. I hope they are settling in. This evening, I found two buds on my "blood red" hydrangea. The autumn ferns that made it through the winter are starting to show signs of life. One of the plants is now perched above its bed of mulch. I remain hopeful that the other two will also lift their crowned heads off the ground and give the backyard a display. So hey, if you've got nothing better to do, pack your bags and come settle in with me. There's a lot of interesting activity going on here. I'd find things to keep you busy, but I'm good company. You could settle in too, just like my plants. Happy spring, everyone. --Laura

Eagle Eyes

David, one of my fellow birders, sent me this link. It's from the Norfolk Botanical Garden, and it's an eagle cam. It shows a nest with 3 young babies, just hatched beginning March 13th, each two days apart. It's moderated during the day by a really informative moderator. And it's highly addictive. And by that I don't mean during working hours, because that would be a violation of the workplace policy. --Laura

Wacky Wednesday

So a few weeks ago, dad had an arteriogram. He had 2 significant blockages and needed two stents. Earlier this week, he reported chest pains, so today he's been scheduled for a followup arteriogram. Well, he was scheduled for 2pm my time. Unfortunately, the guy ahead of him had issues. So at 7pm, he's just now entering the cath lab. Here's hoping he's in and out in about an hour, because the worst case scenario involves finding another blockage, and a chest scar matching mom.
Thus begins the waiting game. To occupy my mind, I thought I would write for the next half hour. What does one talk about when trying to get time to pass? Well, right now spring is a favorite topic. I am pleased this year. Last year I agonized a bit too much about planting a garden. Why do this when I am leaving? Well, we can see how that turned out. The houses in my neighborhood are on the market for $30K less than I still owe.
Why not plant some food? Groceries are up 20% over last year. Maybe I can save myself some money. Too bad I can't grow hotdogs. Or chickens. I already checked.
It has felt good, however, to work on my yard, turning it more into something I'd be happy to own. I have to believe I'm also making it into something someone else would also be happy to buy. While there's a dwindling number of people who want a yard, I have to believe there are people around who want to wake up to blossoming hydrangeas along the back fence, the lovely arborescens Bounty. Well there will be a Penny Mac, a Frillibert and this very interesting variety which is supposed to be purple in the south's acidic soil.
Where will the purple one go?
But I've also purchased plants from Cobb County's 4-H Club - several viburnum, which truthfully have lots in common with the hydrangeas I love. And for the shade garden around Petey the dog, some Coral Bells, or heuchera, which will hopefully look a lot like these.
A friend recently gifted me with some new pots. Unfortunately, they were clay, which truly seems to leech my vegetables, so I am going to get into the herb-growing business. What do I want? Well, Greek Oregano, Genovese Basil, sage, Thyme, and common dill. This year, I'd like to successfully grow rosemary, a skill which seems to elude me. I think the key is to get it straight into the ground rather than trying to grow it in a pot. Last year, I kept mine in a pot because it was something I wanted to take with me When I Moved. This year I'm going to put it in the ground to enjoy, and trust that if I want to grow some in Colorado, someone nice will sell me some.

P.S. - Dad got out of the cath lab with a "dynamically beating" heart and the diagnosis of acid reflux. He's starting meds for it tonight.

--Laura

two steps forward, one step back

After wonderful spring weather, we've been cast back into a patch of dreary again.
Welcome to pre-spring.
I was feeling discouraged last week, because my mockingbird was no longer greeting me on my walk into work in the mornings and evenings. So I was lifted in spirit when, this week, what should be perched on a street light right next to our entryway, but a red-shouldered hawk.
Maybe he ate the mockingbird? Just kidding. I hope not.
So, who is planting what this year? Going heirloom? Hybrid? Organic? Share it. I am still ordering things.

-Laura

NOW on to new topics.

The feeling of spring has come early this year. Last year, I remember being able to feel winter in the air through March. Right now, we are in a fake spring - at least that's what we're telling ourselves.

So today, I drove to Palmetto, Georgia, to a nursery known as Wilkerson Mill Garden. This nursery carries many shrubs and trees, but its specialty is hydrangeas.

For me personally, hydrangeas are the south. It's odd to me to think of them existing on the new england coast. Or Oregon, for that matter. And yet they do. To me, they are inextricably bound to hot summer days, to shady corners of back yards where the lawn has been mowed. They go well with iced tea. They go well with bumble bees.

And today I met a nice couple with a passion for plants, and some really healthy plants. They had great advice. They had lots of information. And before I left, I had four of their babies in my car. How do you leave plants behind when they had names like Penny Mac, much less Frillibert?

Spring is in the air. Bring it on.

--Laura

Morning Clarity

I can admit it now. I don't feel like I can do it all by myself. So I asked for help, of the wrong person. He wasn't obligated to help me, it's true. I had only walked with him through one of the roughest patches in his life. I didn't do that for a tangible reward. I wanted, not things, but him. I thought we were building a history of support. My support for him. His support for me. But it was a turn taking exercise he failed. I took my turn, then waited expectantly for him to take his. Only he never did. We weathered the worst of his storms and it was as if he blamed me for being soaked in rainwater and windblown. I was blamed for knowing his secrets. He wanted a shiny new girlfriend, one who didn't know him at his worst. Stupidly, I just loved him more because, knowing his worst, I knew what he was strong enough to survive.
Enough of that. Aren't you tired of hearing the thoughts that rattle around in my head? The good news. At some point this week, I felt a burden lift in my heart. It was like a scab fell away, revealing healed flesh. I think anyone who's ever lost something important to them (and that would be most everyone) can relate to the time when they realized they must live without it. It takes a little time afterwards to realize they CAN live without it. I think that's what happened driving home this week.
Before it ended, he had become someone I could discuss anything with. And I thought it was the same for him, though it was clear in time that his "Code of the Old West" was a crock of shit when it came to women. But his counsel was solid. His insights were calming and helpful. My mind tells me I could have that back, if I could get over the other bits and accept the platonic in "platonic friendship."
But you know something? I can't. That's some morning clarity. I made a declaration in my mind years ago. I saw this person, and I declared that he'd never be alone, that I'd love him unconditionally. And as much pain as this decision has caused me, I will always love him unconditionally. Well, except for this one part. I can't pretend to be his buddy. I really tried to do it. People who let the world happen to them may not understand why I can't. They are much more generous than I am, perhaps. But here's something to realize. If I had lived closer to him at the time he was in his crisis, we would be together now. And it would have taken years for me to realize that, while I chose him specifically, he chose me only BECAUSE I had been close. It would have taken me years to realize that he would have chosen almost anyone who fit that description.
And there I'd be, trapped. Probably living with a man who'd settled for me because I dropped in his lap like an overripe fig. And each time I couldn't convince myself that "settling" was okay, I'd hate myself, or him. Hey, he didn't purposely choose me, but that's how he is with everything, why worry about it?
Yeah. I'd hate it. And I'd hate myself for accepting it. I'd wonder why I was too weak to leave. And we'd struggle. And I'd badmouth him when we were out together, because it's better to act like you don't care.
Yes. I CAN live without that.
That's my morning clarity. But I'm wasting it on revelations, it's time to spend it on spring planting. Have a great weekend, everyone. I'm going outside.

--Laura

what I'm listening to

So, the 80's called and wanted their mopeds back, but this is what I'm listening to lately.

The Joy of Stats

So, because I'm tired of letting Hallmark determine my value as a human being, I turn to statistics to help me get a grip. A friend shared this video with me recently, and I thought it was cool.


(courtesy of BBC TV)

Here's an admission. With all God gave me, I dread Valentine's Day.
There are many reasons for this. A new reason this year is because my best single friend is dating. If history serves to inform the present, I'll get a picture on my phone - a picture of whatever gift she gets.
I am already practicing my reaction so it seems spontaneous. I've settled on texting the word "Awesome!"
This sounds like sour grapes. The heart of the matter is more complex.
I don't want expensive gifts. Please don't tell people how much you spent on the purse you bought me that costs more than a washing machine. (Let me qualify that statement: if you're shopping for me a wedding ring, ignore what I just said. Thanks). What I covet is not the loot, but the companionship.
One of my past relationships told me that I was stronger than him. The reason? I was better at being Alone. I'm not sure how I responded at the time. I always measured my words with him lest he realize too soon how much I was in love with him. To this day though, I am stunned by his utter lack of insight.
Being Alone longer does not make you better at it.
Regardless of what people may say, few people choose to be alone. True, I have chosen to pass on bad relationships and that is its own kind of choosing. There are tradeoffs. Recently someone asked if I were lonely, and while the answer to that is sometimes yes, I realize that what I'm pining for is a bit pie in the sky: where both parties are happy and respectful of each other and capable of whatever it takes to stay that way. Who has that? Few people have that. I have been surrounded lately by people who actively don't have it, and they have much more in misery than I have in solitude.
The rub is this. I would still be better with someone than alone. Who says that to someone they love anyway? There are still days when I replay that conversation in my mind and I want to scream.
Days like today, I guess. And days like Valentine's Day.
I know. I'm venting. I will be much better Tuesday. Thanks for listening.

--Laura

So...

I knew my dad was getting an arteriogram today. I didn't know he'd be getting 2 stents to open 2 blockages over 90%.

hey buddy - Vote

You may have heard about a contest sponsored by Dockers.com - called Dockers: Wear the Pants.
Essentially, you tell them what you'd rather be doing than what you're doing now, and they give one lucky person $100K to go do it - to go "wear the pants."
Very tempting. Particularly when I have a plan already drawn up, and some of the entries I read involve - give me money so I will never have to work again.
Like $100K is gonna accomplish that...
Anyway, I'm sure there will be thousands of entries. No one will read each one and evaluate the best - this is a contest of numbers. This is about marketing myself and gathering friends who will vote for you each. and. every. day.
So. Friends? How about it?
Here's the link directly to my entry:
http://apps.facebook.com/dockerswearthepants/entries/971
Go. Go now.
Laura

there are days

There are days when you miss the people you could talk to about anything.

sunday insightful laziness

It's cold. It's gray. Unlike intrepid birders, I am content watching mine from the comfort of the front room, with a hot cup of coffee. It's okay to call me a slacker - you may NOT have earned the attentions of a ruby crowned kinglet in your yard, so I understand. I feel I'm serving my purpose if I keep him (yes, him, with his beautiful ruby head) fat and happy with peanut butter suet. I've got it started on the stove as I type this.
Over the holidays, we received a call from my cousin, who lives in Hawaii. Once a year calls from relatives are different from daily calls. You resort to the Year in Review method of communication, because you won't hear from them for a while. This year, I overhear my dad saying, "She wants to start a bird store. Apparently they sell stuff for that, I don't know."
So with that, I post an article a friend of mine sent me this morning. The author makes interesting observations about birding in history and why people do it today. I will say, however, that I don't see it as quite the same harbinger of doom. I do see it as a litmus test. Because I'll tell you something, as I drove back from my grocery trip this morning, I did a mental inventory of the houses in my neighborhood, and how many people I even know. It's a small list. Similarly small is the list of people who spend ANY time outside their home doing something other than mowing the lawn. We live in the south, one of the most temperate climates on the planet. Everyone in this subdivision has a substantial back yard. And yet, only two families garden. I am one of them. The other? My neighbor. There are five families, including myself, who plant flowers or other decorative plants. And when it comes to birdfeeders, I am the lone ranger, unless you count the lady on the opposite end of the neighborhood who has a single faded birdfeeder that belonged to her elderly mother before she passed. It's never had seed in it.
So I bird. By contrast, I walk my neighborhood regularly. I plant flowers, shrubs and vegetables. Birding did that. Birding lures me outside more often. When I'm outside, other things draw my attention. The longer I am outside, the more I see. The longer I am outside, the better I feel. The longer I am outside, the longer I want to be outside.
Harbinger of doom, no. Gateway to a better life, yes. To me, birding is a good way to start. Not the only way. But a good way.
So while we're speaking of Articles You Should Read, I would be remiss if I didn't give a huge attaboy to a friend and incredible birder, Connie Kogler, of Loveland, Colorado. Her recent article, "Herding Prairie-Chickens: A Field Trip Leader's Guide," appeared in the January edition of Birding magazine. You can't read the article online, but you can see the table of contents. I have been so fortunate to meet Connie and her generous family. Not only is she ALSO a walker, gardener and birder, she leads a popular series of bird walks called Birding the Big Thompson River. When fifty-seven people will bundle up to leave the comfort of their front room and nearby coffee pot to follow someone into the woods, you've got to give that person some credit. You can read about her experience here. So if you are local to her, you should pencil her in for February.
Apparently, you can sell people, not only on birds, but on a walk through our big and beautiful blue-green planet. Trust me, I'm very glad to hear it.

--Laura

martin luther king

In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends. -- Martin Luther King, Jr.

A commentary on more than race, but something to guide our actions every day. Happy MLK Day, everyone.

other examples of cabin fever

Meanwhile, some folks are responding a little less gracefully to our winter weather blast.



Don't be stupid people. Don't be stupid. -- Megan Mcglover.

Amen.

-- Laura

snowmaggedon still

I think I'm trapped.
Send help.
Even this post seemed funny. I've been alone too long.

--Laura

snow changes things

Observations about snow might seem a little naive to some. I'm not unfamiliar with it, afterall. But it has been a while since we've had snow to fall and stay, so permit me a little ramble.

Snow changes things. Stepping outside in the dark to take Mollie outside, you reflexively look up because the light reflection is different. The snow blanket, by turns, makes things more quiet and makes any sound more pronounced. And I get the whole concept of there being all different kinds of snow. There was wet, sloppy snow last year. There's been dry fluffy snow this year, followed by hard, crunchy ice-covered snow that's rigid enough to (mostly) hold my dog up as she wanders around the backyard, searching for her familiar landmarks.

And standing outside, waiting on my dog, a breeze kicks up. As it skates across the ice and snow, it chills the air. All of a sudden, I'm too poorly dressed. That's another part of it all. Gloves and layers and jackets have to be planned. Inside, curtains have to be pulled and faucets dripped.

When I had two dogs, I was always worried how short-haired Mollie would handle being a rocky mountain dog. They were both part of my family and while I felt Petey would thrive, I figured she'd struggle in the winter months. And for an honest assessment, I don't think the winter will ever be Mollie's favorite season. At the same time, she doesn't hesitate to go out in it. Each time she goes out, she learns more. She adapts to the changing terrain under her feet.

Like Mollie, I'm going to head into new frontier (when it's time), without a buddy. As a result, I'm probably moving more slowly than I would with encouragement. But that's okay. You can even learn lessons from pets. I can adapt to the terrain too. I can dress better for the weather.

Bring it on, snow. I've got your number.

--Laura

snowmaggedon update

I am so bored.

I AM so bored.

I am SO bored.

I am so BORED.

It is snowmaggedon - Day II.

Showers entered Georgia Sunday evening. Fueled by moisture from the Gulf, we got about 5 inches at my house, more in other locations. Monday was a time of warm snuggling enjoyment. I clearned snow and put out seed and water for feeding birds. Mollie and I walked the neighborhood. Chili and cornbread. Office closed. I watched the news, as road crews worked in vain to clear the roads. The city of Atlanta has 6 plows, so they are completely overwhelmed.

Today, the excitement is wearing off. I am not sure why they won't just close the roads in order to clean them. Cops report that the roads are open, and people go. But when they are transporting emergency personnel using humvees and national guardsmen, perhaps you might consider that you're not a good enough driver to manage it in your Ford Escort?

Though, truth be told, the tractor trailers are causing the most problems. As they jackknife, they close down the entire interstate. When one trailer slides into another, it creates a clog that takes hours to clear, leading to people stranded for 24 hours.

Pearly Lee and I are staying home. Thanks. Today, it occurred to me that if I didn't want to walk on ice in the driveway, I needed to clear it. I found a flat head shovel and broke up the ice from the carport to the front door.

Don't laugh. I'm the first one on my block to do it. After lunch, it will be time to tackle the driveway.

But I'm bored. And it's snowing again.

---Laura

getting some weather

This weekend, we're getting some weather.
One of my coworkers hates this "southern" phrase. It's all weather, she insists.
Regardless, the weekend forecast calls for snow. All day, everyone invoked the snow caveat. "Hey, if we're all here Monday, we will definitely get that printed." Even the weatherman advised viewers to get food for two days, including something that didn't need cooking. After so many seasons of drought, ice and snow is expected to bring down trees on powerlines.
This expectation is over a forecasted 1-2 inches of snow.
In fairness, we do not get a hit of powerful snowstorms. We get a "wintry mix." First rain, next sleet that ices. Finally, snow. Our dark roads look like a shiny whale's skin in the rain. They look exactly the same with a thin sheet of ice on them. And in our last blast of rain and freezing temperatures, I was again on the roads, trying to get home. I didn't spin out between the town of Hiram and home, but I drove 15-20 mph most of the way. And on one icy stretch, I had to inch along.
Currently, we're an eager state full of school children, wishing for a snow day.
I think I'm making chili.

--Laura

An Epic Battle: Ben Franklin versus MGM

I had to take a special day off tomorrow (Monday) in order to have a 4-day weekend, but I took it. For weeks I've been craving an opportunity to fix my nest.
For the past several months, I've been so busy with family and birding that the home has become a big back burner. Instead of putting things away, I've been hiding them. I had actually forgotten where things SHOULD go, where I had DECIDED they should go.
Who doesn't do this, right?
So, I'm making good progress. If I get bored in one room, I change focus and work on another room. I bought hangers. I bought a shoe organizer. I have rearranged furniture. Even that ominous little drawer by the fridge where everything gets hidden has been sorted. There were coupons there from 2001.
Tasks of this magnitude seldom happen without unearthing old memories. I have found several letters I've written the past few years, fully meaning to send. I re-read them in light of where I am currently, and I find myself wondering if sending them would have changed where I am today. I think the question, up for survey, boils down to this:
Does big change require being impetuous? Sure, there's the tortoise and the hare - a call for measured progress, to be sure. But all the big stuff in the movies begs another strategy. It boasts of high success rates with The Big Moment, the move or the words or the declaration which Changes Everything.
So what's your opinion? Which works better? Is it good that I'm re-reading old letters in my keepsake box, or should they have gone in the mail to rest contentedly in someone else's keepsake box or trashcan, as the case may be?
Who most often wins the day? Ben Franklin, or Samuel Goldwyn?

--Laura