Edgeworthia is attracting the attention of pollinators with bright colors and fragrance.
It is a welcome sign that spring will arrive despite the present temperatures and threat of snow.
No worries. These fuzzy blooms can take the cold and ice.
I was glad to be home to enjoy this lovely shrub.
FLOWER
I heard the crow’s wings beating the air as it flew silently over my head and landed in the tree next to me.
There are always crows here in the mountains.
They are usually squawking and cawing. They are too noisy.
But I did like the sound of the crow’s wings.
FLOW among the crows.
Sometimes the signs are too obvious to ignore. I have been monitoring the conchs at the base of this oak for many years.
Next, a species of bracket fungi colonized in a crevasse at its base several years ago and have continually replaced several generations of fruiting bodies.
The final sign is a huge hole under the base. Long sticks can be pushed deep down in the earth.
When I removed these today, they were actually cold on a warm day.
I will miss this tree, but it seems to lean toward the neighbors pier. That liability was its death blow.
I hope I am here to record the Watt Tree Service team’s removal of this huge oak. Sad but absolutely necessary.
FLOWER
This is one of my favorite gifts from my daughter, Rose. It has the most gorgeous illustrations of plants. It is also organized into plant types and explains how those plants are related.
It is a book I wonder through on cold, rainy days. I can pretend I am in the rainforest among the tall trees and hanging vines.
Or I can dream of being in a warm Orchid House among the breathtaking blooms.
This very large book also serves as a piece of art in my library. Illustrator Katie Scott and writer Kathy Willis have created a treasure for anyone who loves botany or unusual plants. Brava!
FLOWER
When I was an artist, I made garden art out of various recipes with portland cement as the main ingredient. Planters were made with mixtures of peat, ground organic matter, portland cement, mortar mix, stone and fibers.
The troughs were hand-shaped and seasoned in plastic wrap to dry slowly. The surfaces had to be brushed to a roughly smooth, natural-looking texture that mimicked stone.
I discovered that there is a fine line between a recipe that will grow moss and a recipe that falls apart. The trick is to use fibers that are made to strengthen concrete. The fibers left sticking out can be burned off using a blow torch. I also used these fibers in bird baths and benches to reinforce them, along with hardware cloth and rebar.
This trough is about thirty years old and looks exactly like it was intended. Still sturdy enough to be moved and used as a planter.
I will share other pieces of Maiden Stone Garden Art in future posts and describe how each was made. I used to teach workshops on how to make pieces.
FLOWER
I am working in my sister’s yard today. She needed some cleaning up and mulching before adding solar lights along her walkway.
I also removed the corners from her square shrubs that were trimmed by a professional.
I found some fungi under her piles of pine needles. They released spores that looked like cocoa powered.
City folks put their yard waste in bags by the curb.
I am not used to folks blowing the horn as they drive by. Actually, I am not used to folks driving by.
It’s nice here in the city…but a bit noisy.
FLOW
If you could go anywhere for seven to ten days, where would you go?
I have this choice for my 40th anniversary this June.
Help me decide.
I get overwhelmed by too many people. I want to be surrounded by unusual plants and animals.
I love to swim and snorkel.
I do not care about getting dressed up or eating fancy food.
If you know of such a haven, send me a name of the place.
FLOW
The three generations of women before me ended their lives with dementia. My great grandmother’s demise may have started when her husband was killed by a train when his truck stalled on the tracts which crossed through their farm.
She heard the crash. Then she spent her remaining years moving back and forth every six months between her daughter in Ohio and her daughter in North Carolina. I remember sitting on her bed at Gran’s house going through a photo album of old black and white photos as she talked about each photo. I was too young to understand how sad this was. I have those photos now.
My gran’s confusion started when she inherited a house full of thousands of lovely things from her aunt.
There were enough treasures in Aunt Ethel’s house to fill all Gran’s daughters and granddaughter’s houses with unusual furniture, clothes, art, jewelry and dishes. This sorting overwhelmed her brain at her time of grief and years after.
My mama has dementia now. Maybe her trigger was worrying about my daddy’s health. She hovered over him like it was her hobby. It was hard to witness a brilliant woman turn into a shadow.
I have been overwhelmed since clearing the family home this past summer. We sorted through sixty-three years of everything. The heirlooms went to the mountains. Many boxes came here.
When I am home, I feel their presence. I must sort them to be free. So here I am again, evaluating, burning, consolidating. Will I ever be done? Or will my brain balk at the task and slowly shut down to protect itself.
I cannot leave such a burden for my children, especially Rose. Her museum is already full.
Mama FLOW
It is time for me to isolate myself and write away past traumas. I cannot move forward with this load of pain. More is coming and I must adjust and adapt. Like the Junk Bug, I must maintain a balance.
I have done this before. In my first book, I told stories of Rose’s seizures and surgeries and how we navigated through the many trials. I wrote it for other mothers, but it served as a catharsis for me. It is not sad. It is our stories of strength, determination and resilience.
The stories are still coming. I hoped Rose would help write the sequel, but her stroke two years ago has left her in a serious funk. If you follow my other blog,
Should They Look Through Our Looking Glass?
you know I am against enabling and spoiling. These are a way of making a parent feel better because they cannot fix the real problem. It backfires big time. Do not go down that rabbit hole.
Here I go again. Writing away my emotional load. It is how I cope. It is who I am.
FLOW moving forward.
floweralley 