If I’m not Weeding, I’m Reading

| Flower Roberts

We had some snow here today, so the weeds had to wait.

I made progress in several of the books that I am reading.

I only read non-fiction right now.

My last book of fiction made me so mad that I tossed it.

I can read books simultaneously if they are dissimilar. Otherwise, I get them confused.

Tristan Gooley’s How To Read Water is a hit with me.  It is even better than his book, The Lost Art of Reading Nature’s Signs.

A Woman’s Place is at the Top by Hannah Kimberly is a fascinating story of the mountain climber, Annie Smith Peck.  I admire her determination, but she was not as civic-minded as my two heroes, Marianne North and Beatrix Potter.

Gretchen Rubin inspires me with her thoughtful pursuits at improvement.  I have just started Happier at Home,  but I really enjoyed her book, Better Than Before. 

Elizabeth Kolbert is a really great science writer. Do not let the “science” deter you. Her book, The Sixth Extinction is on my top ten list.

In case you are wondering what the bunnies do in wet weather, they chew on sticks.

I caught Charlotte wistfully gazing out the bottom panes of the French doors today. I know she would hate it out there in the cold, but she still wanted out.

They enjoyed eating bark off of fruitwood sticks. These are now ready to burn.

Tomorrow will be sunny, so I won’t be eating so much…I mean reading so much.

FLOWER

 

Gran’s Almond Bush

| Flower Roberts

I am so happy to have another “family plant” in my garden.

This Flowering Almond shrub came from my mom’s mother. I think it is a Prunus glandulosa.  It has always stayed small, like a dwarf form.

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I remember a year when we had a late snow. Its tiny pink blooms were dusted and glistening. It was a beautiful memory that I cherish.

My sister got this bush from mom when they paved over its spot near the house.

She sent part of it home with me yesterday.

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I am researching where to put it and how to plant it. It is too precious to make mistakes.

I will keep passing these treasures along.

The Flower is rich in green…plants of course.

FLOWER

 

 

Craft Coffee in the Afternoon

| Flower Roberts

My sister and I went to the POUR Craft Coffee Festival yesterday.  Our aunt was there because her son, our baby cousin, was one of the planners. He is in hot water.  The business.  These roasters used Marco equipment in brewing.

I was thrilled to get to go to a craft coffee event and visit with family at the same time.

It was held inside The Unknown Brewery in Charlotte, North Carolina.

It was a great event for anyone who likes to drink or even smell coffee.

There were some bakeries there also, but since it is Lent, I only ate the samples.

I did not want be rude to the lovely young lady.

Each Coffee Roaster was sharing samples of their different blends of coffee. The coffees had different types of beans from different sources around the globe.

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We spent hours sampling sips of coffee from tiny mugs given out at the entrance. We learned about roasting beans.

I took photos of each vendor’s sign. I blinded the nice young man at the Nightflyer booth. (Sorry dude. My bad.)

Jokes were made about sipping and chugging, caffeine highs balanced with beer mellows.

My sister and I decided our palates were not sophisticated enough to taste the tones and hints of the beans and skins/cherry/cascara.  A helpful gentleman suggested this was because we were “older.”  (Just because something is true, doesn’t mean that it needs to be said.)

My sister’s one purchase of the day was some Arabica Soda from Charleston, South Carolina. It was a refreshing blend of beans and skins and sugar and carbonation. We predict a hit here.

It was a great chance to taste many brands of craft coffee.

I must make one suggestion to our cousin from Marco. Next year please add a craft cocoa vendor for your old-lady cousins with our unsophisticated palates.

FLOWER

Rats, Camera, Action!

| Flower Roberts

After hours of “Operation Caddy Shack”(another ridiculous movie), we can say with great confidence that there are no more rats in the bunny yard.

I guess our bad neighbor was a lone wolf, so to speak.  I did not check the cadaver’s gender before the burial.

I would have posted sooner, but I felt faint toward the end of the events and had to come inside to hydrate, shower and lie down. I am not sure what caused the spell.  It could have been due to excitement, exhaustion(from digging and laughing) or smoke inhalation.

We found many tunnels along the base of the basement.

Tunnel opening with smoke coming out.

Mr. Flower started the mission with fire, followed by smoke and last, but certainly not least, water.

Billows of smoke from another tunnel.

I must say the most disconcerting part (other than flames shooting up the side of my dwelling, fanned by my husband with a shop-vacuum) was the amount of water used.

Mr. Flower playing with fire and power tools at the same time.

After the use of flames and smoke, we placed hoses in the holes to fill the tunnels with water. The hose ran and ran and ran, but we never saw any water coming out from any other holes or drain pipes.

Water disappearing down one of the holes.

Where did it all go?  I do not know.

After my much needed rest, I had to go down and remove the mess from the bunny yard. They knew something big had happened.

I might add that one of my children’s favorite books was Mrs Frisby and the Rats of NIMH.

 I couldn’t shake the feeling that we had been outsmarted. Perhaps somewhere up the hill, in the woods, was a group of rats watching us, and laughing.

LESSONS:

Never underestimate the enemy.

Know your neighbors.

Know your enemies.

Put out the flames before blowing smoke

 

I will be glad to get back to gardening. This has been way too much action for the Flower.

FLOWER and Mr. Flame

 

 

My Dead Bad Neighbor

| Flower Roberts

The digger has been relocated to a different hole. One that was dug by Mr. Flower.

We never did get a picture of the culprit. If you can’t get a photo, a little poo will do.

I must say that I suspected its identity all along.

My head knew all the signs pointed to rat, but my heart wished for weasel.

You will not be seeing any photos of dead creatures on my blog. I made this rule years ago when a dead raccoon was found in the fairy garden.

My children insisted that I include a blog post about the “Fairy Fatale”, but I refused.

I knew that the poor little thing had fallen from the tree the previous night during our bonfire gathering. He had climbed up into the tree above to spy on us. The young raccoon was so scared by the ghost stories, that he lost his grip and fell to the rocks below.

The fairies just finished him off.

Thus ends the mystery. I hope my readers are not as disappointed as I am.

“Why the Critter Cam then?” you ask.

Mr. Flower suspects that the culprit did not act alone. He has been studying up and making plans. He seems rather excited. He has been referring to this Friday as ‘Ground Hog’s Day.’ For you readers who may not know this, it is the title of a movie starring Bill Murray. I hated to remind Mr. Flower that the aforementioned film involved a rodent out-smarting a human.

If you’re local, you may want to drop by tomorrow. (Bring a lawn chair.)

FLOWER

 

I Found an Earthstar

| Flower Roberts

I found an Earthstar in my yard.

Its rays were spread, its sac was flat, its spores were gone.

Its job was done.

I peeked into the mouth-like hole to see if I could spot a spore.

But all were washed away by rain.

This tiny barometer knew just when

to unfold rays and open its pore

to send its tiny jewels into the wet world

to be stars.

My Bad New Neighbor

| Flower Roberts

Well the honeymoon is over.  I was hoping we could be friends.

But there are some habits that the Flower cannot tolerate.

At first the digging was a novelty. The excavation was a source of fascination.

It thought this was just part of getting settled in.

But its been months and the digging continues.

My new neighbor has an addiction to digging.

I did not mind its sharing my cold frame until the pots started sinking into the ground.

Now a line has been crossed.  I was out with the bunnies when I noticed a pile of fresh rubble under the bunny hutch.

This is not their home. They, of course, have their own room inside the house.

This hutch is their outdoor retreat from wind and birds-of-prey. It is also their outdoor toilet.

This huge pile of rocks has been removed from under a slab of concrete.

We still haven’t met our new neighbor. I tried to get Charlotte to identify him from photos, but she refused to squeal.

Mr. Flower suggested trying a trap. What should we use for bait I asked, “Rocks?”

We borrowed a critter camera that did not work. I suggested purchasing our own. Mr. Flower said he did not wish to spend money on such a purchase.

I interrupted him to inform him that I was saving my money for new bikinis for our trip to Mexico. ( Pure fiction is the perfect distraction. It throws them off course. When they recover from the shock, they are so grateful that what you just said was a lie that they will gladly give you the original object requested.)

I am expecting that critter cam any time now.

FLOWER

 

 

Don’t Listen to the Groundhog

| Flower Roberts

Since I have a garden, not a groundhog, I tend to consult it as to when spring will arrive.

The first place I go for this information is the weeds.  Yes, that’s right.  WEEDS.

They know more than the hybrids. Their DNA has not been tampered with.

They use old school, and I do mean old, methods to determine when to start growing.

Well fellow Carolinians, the weeds say get busy.

The mint family(square stems) and dandelions are all ready blooming.

That means if you delay in weeding, you will be weeding mama weeds and baby weeds.  Two generations!   That’s way more than twice as many.

You don’t have weeds, you say?  Lucky you.

Then consult some of your garden favorites.

The BULBS say spring is near.

Tete-a-tetes say yes.

The crocus concur.

The old daffodils on the hill are thrilled.

Bulbs are always ahead of the game you say?

Ask the PERRENIALS.

Foxgloves are growing foliage.

The columbines are coming out.

Perennial poppycock you say?

Then go see a SHRUB.

The Pieris are ringing their spring bells.

The Quince is quite convinced that spring is near.

If you still need to consult a CRITTER, or two.

The bunnies have some spring in their hop.

Get busy people. Being a gardener is like being part of a horse costume.  If you’re not a head, you’re a behind.

I said spring is near NOT here. You crazy people better not set out tomatoes yet. They go out the third week in April.

P.S. I do have a groundhog. But we don’t mention such things around Mr. Flower.

FLING

 

 

 

My Daddy’s Planes

| Flower Roberts

My daddy gardens in the spring and summer.

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In the winter, he builds planes.

This winter he is making the largest and most complex plane ever.

It is a model of the B-24 Liberator from World War II.

It has hundreds of tiny pieces

that must be precisely cut with an Exacto knife from balsa wood and glued into place.

He says that this is his last one. I hope this is not true.

If my eighty-six-year-old daddy can perform miracles with his crooked hands,

what excuse could I possibly use to not do amazing things myself?

I am his FLOWER.