I did not dig these dahlias last fall. Nor did I remove their tomato cages that were placed for support. These are on a hill that I have fallen on many times when I had the legs of a mountain goat. I will not be doing much gardening here.
Site of last year’s fall and face-planting.
So the dahlias have been on their own for two seasons now. They seem to thrive on neglect, except they do need staking. I hate seeing flowers face-plant. Better them than me!
Falling Snow Country dahlia
It pains me to see Thomas Edison so down.
Thomas Edison with bowing blooms.
Snow Country is falling like snow. Firepot is a complete mess. All the dahlias need a good dead-heading, but since their care-giver has had two hip surgeries and one to go, they must hold their own another season.
Firepot needing some preening.
They may need tending, but I must say they look the healthiest I have seen them in years. That’s what I am working toward for myself. Healthy and strong despite the falling.
My dahlias may be down, but they are still thriving without any help from me. Hooray solitary survival!
Anything edible must be protected from the deer herd. I even dug and divided my collection and gave many away.
Autumn Joy was beheaded before the fencing
I am not sad about this. I love sharing plants. I do not love feeding wildlife. I am a biologist first and gardener second. Feeding wild creatures makes them lazy and dependent. They will keep coming back for more.
Pot out of reach of hungry mouthes.
I only break that rule during weather anomalies like droughts and extreme cold. Even then the assistance is sporadic and in different locations.
Sedum on the steps.
So the sedums you see here are isolated in strategicallylocated pots or inside fences. There is plenty of wild vegetation around for them to eat.
Bees love sedums.
I have keep wild spots in and around my yards. This encourages nature to stay in balance.
Bees even sleep on the blooms.
The bees love my sedums but love my weeds equally well. Nature should win. It’s been growing things a lot longer than we have.
It’s the time of year when pumpkins are everywhere. All sizes, colors and textures are available. When I was kid, all pumpkins were orange. There were no colorful, bumpy designer hybrids.
Picking the perfect pumpkin was easier back then. There was one color, orange. There was one texture, smooth. There was one shape, round. So the choice was limited to the perfect size.
Traditional pumpkins and a ghosty goard.
Our home was controlled chaos back then. Mama taught middle school. My sis and I were in the marching band. There would be no pumpkin carving and lighting. A little pumpkin would do.
Too big!
There was no time or need to peruse a pumpkin patch. We just grabbed our little, round, smooth, orange pumpkin from the produce section of the grocery store.
So many choices!
The perfect pumpkin was about the size of a person’s head. We put it on the mantle for our Halloween decore. It looked great there, so we left it through the fall. Then Thanksgiving arrived. Our band marched in several parades as well as at most football games. We left the pumpkin on the mantle through that holiday.
The mantle with the pumpkin stain.
Some time before the Christmas holidays the perfect pumpkin started slumping. This new pumpkin posture went unnoticed for a while. Eventually its squatting was spotted.
We lifted the poor pumpkin out of its puddle of goo. We cleaned the wooden mantle as best we could, but a round, discolored mark remained.
That mark is still there on the left side of the mantle. That discoloration is a treasured sign of a home that was lived in. A busy family hurrying through the holidays ignored the pumpkin until it demanded attention by rotting.
There are lessons here. I hope one of the Enwood neighbors will pass this story along to the new owner, Zach.
He can hold his little girl up to see the spot and tell her the story of two little girls that grew up in that house long ago.
And the lessons? That is for him to puzzle. To pay attention to time passing. To know that perfection does not last. To enjoy things while they are fresh. To know when its time to make a change. Whatever suits.
First comes the walkers. Just to keep them steady and vertical. Carting two walkers around is better than a fall or not going at all.
Mom and Daddy with training wheels.
My dad had rheumatoid arthritis for decades. He hobbled around determined to keep going. He finally ended up with a bright red rollator, so he could keep moving, and cart things around.
Racy red rollator
We only used a wheelchair when necessary. It was during one of those times that I felt the pain of inaccessibility.
Daddy in his chair.
We planned an important outing with friends. There was not a close parking space available. The rest of the group went down the steps. I wheeled Daddy back and forth along the back of the parking spaces. I was literally running by the third pass with tears of fury in my eyes. I saw no break in the curbing to get up to the sidewalk. I finally saw that someone had parked in the space between the two handicapped spaces.
A car was parked in the marked out space between the two handicap spaces blocking the ramp.
I pushed his chair up to the curb. He lifted himself out of the chair by holding on to a car. I popped the heavy chair up over the curb and helped him settle back in.
It is such a small barrier, but is too big for a wheelchair.
Then we went down a looooooong, steeeeeep ramp to get to our destination and rejoin the group.
Looooong, steeeeep sidewalk. A worker helped me get him back up the hill. Grateful.
Wheels help, but it is still a hardship
Mama got weaker and needed wheels. Her rollator was smaller and blue. Sometimes she would be confused and push it with one hand and have her walkingstick in the other. Later she used Daddy’s red one.
Mama with Daddy’s wheels.
We would walk up and down her street. She was still in charge of the world then. She would lock the house and put the keys in her pocket. Sometimes the cordless phone from the house went in there with her cell phone.
Mama and her wheels
We would put Mama in daddy’s wheelchair for outings. One of our favorite places had a dirt walking path. We had to carefully navigate the twists and turns on a slope to get down to the flat path. There were trenches from washing in the curves. My sis and I had to strain to keep mama’s chair from flipping. Sometimes strangers would help us. Mama would shriek when she was scared. We were quite a spectacle on those outings.
Better access for strollers and wheelchairs
Wheels help, but it’s still a hardship.
I caught myself wishing for my own wheels last weekend. Each step is painful. My hip surgery is six weeks away. I wanted to go to an art show. I knew by the time I parked and walked there, I would be in too much pain to enjoy it. The same thing occurred with an outdoor concert two weeks ago. There will be other events after I am fixed. I will get to go places then. My problem is temporary. I can console myself with thoughts of a more mobile future.
Safe access is crucial.
BUT what if that wasn’t the case? What if this is as good as it gets? What if wheels were my new normal…forever?
What if loooong, steeeeep ramps and washed out curves, and curbs remained obstacles and barriers for the rest of my life? That would be challenging sometimes and impossible other times. No art shows, no tours, no concerts, no picnics…
Accessibilty matters.
Not being able to go to places you love and do things you have always done is disheartening. Others must go and do without you. It is isolating and lonely.
The new sidewalk to the walking path.
Wheels help, but it is still a hardship.
Please, respect the signs.They are not there for convenience. They are necessary, so that someone with wheels and their loved ones can keep living their lives together.
And do not be shy about stepping in and preventing some fools from tossing their elderly mama into a ditch, on a hill, in a curve near a lake.
I wondered if Alice was concerned about some special plants that she treasured most. Her answer surprised me. “No” she said “I will miss them all being together.”
Drowned garden after the water
This is why her garden glows. She sees the plants as part of a mosaic. Alice designs a living, green community. She makes tapestries of flowers and leaves.
Alice and her Mexican Sunflower.
I have to admit I have never thought this way. I garden one plant at a time. I guess that’s the biologist in me. This thought is so new! I am glad I am not on the river right now. I would be tempted to hobble out with a shovel to rearrange my colors and textures and heights.
I did finally get Alice to name several plants that she was happy to see come up after the flood. A Lenten Rose from her mom survived. It is small with crumpled leaves, but is putting out new leaves. She was also glad to see the white Clematis that she rescued from a construction site. This photo is my favorite from all the ones I took. It looks like a shining star.
Rescued White Clematis
A redbud and dogwood came through unaffected. An azalea survived but looks sick.
Dogwood thriving
Two pink Star Gazer lilies came up in pink profusion.
Looking at Alice’s garden gives no hint of the past disaster. She said she bought bags of wildflower seeds and threw them everywhere. Alice healed her garden, and maybe herself, with bulbs and seeds. I would need that, too. I have said many times “My hope is green!”
Queen of the Night
I bet Alice and Palmer would say that, too. I know ‘My Friend the Fairy’, Madge would second that. She gave me the Cereus. All this is probably her doing.
My Friend the Fairy, Madge
Talking with Alice and Opal has filled my head with stories that came back to me as I marveled at the many changes that they have navigated through. I thought of changes in my own life that I neither caused nor expected. We all have our own hurricanes and floods. We all must survive hardships that show up uninvited. I guess that’s why Alice’s garden and Opal’s lamp meant so much to me.
I knew that Alice’s garden must have been flooded by Hurricane Helene last September. I asked her for a blow by blow of the events leading up to her evacuation. I was on the edge of my seat. I could not even take notes. It was like hearing about an apocalypse. She says she is just now confronting the trauma.
Water rushing by her raised deck.
I inquired about exactly what moment she knew it was time to leave. She said it was when she took this picture of her pumpkin floating. Alice said she ran to grab some valuables and when she opened the door to run out, water rushed in.
Let that sink in readers. (No pun intended) Water rushing into your home. I closed my eyes and asked her to describe the water. It was moving, nasty and dark she said.
We sat in silence. Her home was no longer her priority, her safety was. She drove to higher ground as debris floated past in the dark flow in the streets. Whoa!
Here is Alice showing how high the water got on her lovely home and garden. She said there was also a storage unit of family art and a camper stored near a river that were also a concern. I cannot imagine how scattered her thoughts must have been, with one goal; front and center…GET HIGHER!
Alice showing the high water mark during Hurricane Helene September 2024.
This brave woman was telling this without breaking down. This is grit people!
She could have walked away and started over, but home is home. I asked many questions about when she decided to replace her precious garden. This is when I wanted to cry. She had already ordered bulbs before the hurricane. She opened the packs and planted them as soon as the water receded. Any bare spot got a bulb. I told her it seemed like she was dressing a wound. She agreed. There was no choice made. Like a mama healing a hurt child, she moved forward. She filled the emptiness and healed the wounds and moved forward with a faith that I marvel at.
Bulbs as bandages.
Think of it Readers. I did not stop to leave a note at a recovering garden. I stopped to visit a gorgeous garden. The most lovely garden I have seen in this town. Little did I know I would be hearing a tale of resilience and survival…not gardening tips…but LIFE tips. Once in a while this world gives you more that you asked for. That is what happened when Lucy and I met Alice and Opal.
Bulbs and a resilient redbud.
This amazing woman that the Universe chose to connect me with is a beacon of hope for ALL who struggle. Who of us can say our home was full of brown water and our garden drowned and survived to thrive? Alice can!
Next post is about when the water receded and what plants survived. This is so inspiring. Go plants!!!
The first thing that happened was the Cereus ‘Queen of the Night’ plant that I gave to my friend, Palmer, had sixty buds on it, many of which bloomed last night.
His wife, Lucy, was with me in the mountains, so he was texting photos of the angelic blooms to his wife well after dark. The unusual thing about that is these sixty blooms are the third round of blooms on Palmer’s Cereus plant. Palmer is a plant whisperer.
Palmer the Plant Whisperer
I have been admiring a fabulous garden that I pass several times each week, so I finally had time to pull over and leave my card in the mailbox with a note asking if I could write a post about the exuberant garden.
More about this garden in next post.
The gardener and I have been texting back and forth for days. We decided to meet for lunch on Labor Day(today) at a restaurant near her home. I took Lucy with me to lunch.
I told this new friend, Alice, that I would bring her two of my favorite potted plants to add to her collection. The two plants were Queen of the Night/ Night- blooming Cereus/Epipyhllum oxypetalum with the angelic white blooms and Epiphyllum orchid cactus ‘Over the Top” which blooms pink.
A baby Cereus plant for my new friend, Alice
As we ate lunch, we three shared the photos that Palmer sent of his Queen of the Night blooming and Alice was excited about adopting such a glorious type of plant. I have blogged on this Cereus before and have stated many times that if an angel were a bloom, it would be a Cereus bloom.
Palmer’s Cereus blooms
Since Alice saw on my blog that I did decoupage, she wanted to show me a lamp made by her late mother-in-law using a reverse decoupage technique. She had just moved her sister-in law, Opal, into the house next door. It was Opal’s lamp. I was very interested in seeing it, so we went to pop in on Opal to get a look at this reverse decoupage.
Here is when the universe showed itself!
The lamp was decoupaged with a large picture of a Queen of the Night bloom.
Reverse decaupage lamp
There were gasps and waves of goosebumps. We hugged each other knowing fate had brought us four together with an assist from Palmer and his cell phone. I had to go home and lie down because the connections were too complex to be coincidence and I needed time to process all the events leading up to the magic.
Orchid cactus bloom
You do the math. Palmer’s plant bloomed last night. Lucy was staying with me, so I got to see the pics. Alice met us for the first time today. I brought her a Cereus as a gift. Her sister-in-law, Opal, just moved here with the lamp that has a Queen of the Night bloom on it.
We were visiting with friends on the porch when all conversation was stopped to admire a rainbow.
Mountain Rainbow
The colors are usually vivid. A second rainbow emerged with the color spectrum reversed. I had never noticed this before and had to look up the cause.
Double and reversed
It involves light passing through droplets more than once. I read that there can be triple rainbows and sometimes a hint of a forth. I am amazed that I never noticed this about a double rainbow. Next time you see one. Look for ROYGBIV and VIBGYOR.
floweralley 