My First Plant: The Old Man Cactus

An unnamed fuzzy cactus. Not quite like my original Old Man Cactus, but cute and fuzzy nonetheless.  

The first plant I ever owned was an Old Man Cactus (Cephalocereus senilis). I must have been 8 or 9 and it was an impulse buy my mother made out of guilt. I'm not sure now what she'd been dragging me around to do that day, but I recall even now that she bought it just so that she wouldn't have to hear me complain about the day's activities. 

It was a distraction, a bribe, and it worked—at least until I killed it. 

The plant was placed on the shelf you see above, in the same place where you see the replacement plant I just plucked from Portland Nursery the other day. Many of you have probably already guessed that this placement gave the plant a death sentence. Yes. I know now. I did that but I'd wanted it to live with my most cherished possessions—my books. I just didn't know any better.

I don't recall how long I strung that plant's life out for, but I do remember how much my mother hated that plant. 

When I told her I was going to write a post about it here on my blog, she remembered that "damn thing" well. For many years my Grandma Ila had collected cacti and succulents and my mother had always found her mother's groupings—alway in mismatched kitschy planters—to be tacky. As a kid I'd found the whole setup quirky and exotic—not at all like the oatmeal palace my mom had made for us. Her worst nightmare was that I might end up being like her mother. Maybe I did end up a little bit like her, but like all good kids, I'm a lot like a lot of people and I'm myself too. 

My cactus had not been picked at random. For a time I'd admired it at the store and I was fascinated that something so cute could have such painful spines. That trigger in my imagination made me create all kinds of stories about it and one of those was the idea that it would protect me but that makes little sense now to my adult mind. 

Before the Old Man cactus entered my room I knew little of about caring for cacti. There must have been books about gardening for children but at that time I was hooked on mysteries, mythology and the classical texts my dad passed on for me to read. If I'd asked for a gardening book back then I think both of my parents would have chuckled. The fact those are what I mostly own now, and that the books are all over my home doesn't surprise my parents at all nowadays—not even a bit. Funny how we grow. 

When the plant finally rotted I must admit that I felt a bit defeated. One day it quietly disappeared from the shelf in my room and my mom and I didn't talk about it. She hated looking at it and I felt badly that I'd failed. 

It wasn't until high school that I started growing houseplants again, and that time, I quickly succeeded with the basics and felt some mastery. During college my collection continued to grow, and my mom bought me more plants, and I still have a few around the house that I've owned for nearly 20 years. 

This little fuzzy guy is set to have a long life with me now—I hope.

(The Grow Write Guild is a creative writing club for people who garden. It's a series of bi-weekly writing prompts created by garden author and blogger Gayla Trail. I'm starting out late with the series but hope to catch up soon. It's just what this blogger needed for some summer fun.)

Wordless Wednesday: In the Garden with Gina and Ivan (Valdobbiadene, Italia)

A Gardener Spends an Hour or Two at Powell's Books

Last Friday the sun was out in the City of Roses and I was running around getting ready for my nieces's 21st birthday party. 

Why not stop for a bit at Powell's? Right?

I have been visiting the nationally-known and locally-loved store since I was a girl and to say that it's part of my routine and my life is an understatement. Long before the Internet existed I was using this book lovers' destination as a much needed resource—along with the local library system of course!

Walking the two blocks from where I'd parked my car I enjoyed the familiar sights. 

There were the usual humorous things to see too—even if I was the only one laughing. 

No folks, this is no longer a trash can once it's painted and planted!

As for the Italian cypress, it reminded me a bit of the old drunk men I used to see in this area as a girl. They too leaned up against the walls of building just like this poor thing. 

Portland looked much different during the 1970s. I suppose to outsiders, we still look different, but in a much more friendly way. 

 For instance, we have our urban windmills atop buildings. Everyone does that right?

Since I hadn't been to the downtown location for several months I'd not yet noticed that the gardening section had been expanded a bit.

There was a great display of new books and I was happy to see they've included a cheap section again with older titles that don't cost as much as the newbies.

Yes, it's harder now to find great deals on books here but that's happening everywhere.

My favorite section was still very much intact.

Beside it is my other favorite section in the store. As someone with a background in critical theory and philosophy relating to art history and visual analysis this section has been nice to transition into over the years. At least with gardens you can actually talk about something.

Upstairs in the arts area I was excited to see vintage typewriters on display with houseplants. This is a nice Ficus elastica.

Some of the other houseplants didn't look as nice but this is a bookstore after all. I felt like turning this Sansevieria but then I decided that I might look like one of those obsessive characters in that popular tv show you've probably heard about that's filmed here.

Before I left I was looking at hiking books because I plan to go on more plant and nature adventures this year. It was strange to me that an older edition of one of the used books seemed familiar. I looked on the back and suddenly remembered that my dad had resold the remainders he'd purchased from the original publisher when they'd gone out of business. I may have actually put this sticker on the back of this book because I used to do things like that when I was younger.  As the daughter of a publisher, I was lucky to grow up surrounded by books. I always could earn some extra money too.

When I was a young girl my Saturday mornings downtown at Powell's with my dad were often the highlight of my week. We'd often spend several hours there together reading quietly and watching people.

It was really nice to remember those memories just before leaving and I also found some great books for my niece.

Wordless Wednesday: Lan Su Chinese Garden (November 4, 2012)

Lan Su Chinese Garden

Wordless Wednesday: The Itsy Bitsy Sedum Fell Down the Garden Wall

Wordless Wednesday: 3 Black Cats Go Out to the Garden

Why sometimes you must wait for a plant...

By the time I accept that a blast of very cold air is about to hit my garden, I am usually too late to save everything. This year, by some incredible stroke of luck, and I think a dash or guilt, I was out there earlier than usual, working on the winter shuffle. For our garden, that usually means moving some furniture, emptying or moving some planters to safer locations, picking up debris from the Douglas fir trees and entertaining any cats who drop in to watch me.

While shuffling pots this year, I had a bit of a surprise. I found that one native shrub I'd planted a few years back was more than I'd thought it was before this season's growth. As I rolled its large terra cotta planter to a safer location, the leaves rubbed against me and the smell was amazing! It was unlike any plant smell I have ever smelled before and it was kind of exciting to recognize that this was a new sensory experience for me. It reminded me of incense that was both earthy and spicy and I was so excited by this change in my opinion of it because it really had not done much during the last few years. It wasn't going to be edited from the garden like a diseased plant, or a seriously underperforming one. Since I'd already pushed it to the back, I'd given it that chance that it needed to recoup. Now that it has grown a bit more, wow, look out!

The lovely soft fuzz underneath smells nice too and reminds me of the large leaved Rhododendrons. 

Formerly known as Ledum groenlandicum, after recent genetic testing, it it now Rhododendron groenlandicum, but the common name remains the same: Bog Labrador Tea. As can be ascertained from its name, it likes to grow in boggy conditions. In addition, it is a slow grower so that might explain why I was not overjoyed with its performance. I am so sorry now and I will never doubt a slow grower again.

The plant is named after a steeped beverage that Inuit and Athabaskan people have enjoyed for years and which other Native Americans and even early European trappers drank too. According to Wikipedia, in Labrador itself, the tea is called Indian Tea. The beverage is considered palatable and is used medicinally as well. When the plant grows some more, I will attempt to make some myself! I am always willing to try new foods, and will run this one past my chef husband. It might be useful in the future for some kind of special dish.

As I worked throughout the day, cats came and went. Our youngest cat Mona was by far my gardening buddy that day and she stayed outside with me in the mud. She had to run around a lot to keep warm, but she kept me entertained.

Mirror, mirror on the wall...

The neighbor cat watched both of us from above the garden garage/shed/studio/atelier all day as well. (When I open the curtains in the morning I often see him perched up high on that same roof looking towards the east watching the sun come up. )

Another important task of the year is always to save any seedlings that didn't grow large enough to plant, trade, or sell during the summer. Here are a few of the plants I pulled into the house recently. These are Lilac Fuchsias I grew from seed that might make it in this zone, but I am afraid to take that chance just yet—if ever. The others are Australian Cabbage Palms.

Lilac Fuchsia, Fuchsia arboresens, before they head into the basement growing area for the winter. I purchased seeds for these plants last winter, and hope to add them to my ever expanding Giant Fuchsia Collection. 

Livistona austalis is not hardy here, so I will most likely end up trading these with some adventurous soul. They were a free gift in a seed trade, so I was really just interested in germinating them. 

Everything is far from being completed outside, and the countdown is on. I have about 4 days until the near freezing temperatures and wind arrive on the scene so it's back to work for me. Hope you are all warm and toasty and have accomplished your garden tasks before this on-again off-again chronically ill up-and-down gardener! Let me know if you find any amazing and unusual seeds for sale in those new catalogs too that are pouring through our mail slots just about now. 

Wordless Wednesday (3)

The Blues of Springtime, and Becoming a Therapeutic Foster Parent

As we slowly liquidate the sprouted seedlings in the basement, moving them into larger pots, and then into the neighbor's borrowed greenhouse across the street, I feel spread thinner and thinner. This is the happiest time of the year, it is the busiest time of the year, but it is the most painful time of the year too when my chronic illness and immune system just fall apart. Some part of me says that I am far from the only one using gardening and its many pleasures to alleviate the effects of chronic pain and, just generally, the blues that come with all of this baggage.

Garden therapy is probably the most important job I perform, though now, therapeutic foster care is probably becoming more important. Of course one always hopes that their own children will help them out in the garden, but we all know that it's a lot to ask of a brief visitor in your home with their own troubles and issues. When I started a few months back, I was worried that the kids might hurt some of my plants, but that is far from true. The plants are either ignored, or the blooms are lightly pawed and stared at for rather long periods of time. Crafts for the garden have been far more popular, in general, or anything craft-like. Many of the girls have also loved flower fairies while some boys have actually liked flowers and the complicated process of how things grow.

As things grow, I will return to bartering some plants on craigslist for weeding to alleviate some of my physical stress from the hereditary angioedema. This is a strange lesson for the kiddos to learn, but it is one that they seem to understand far more than I'd thought since many of them already have needed the rules bent for themselves in some way. Needing to enter what I prefer to call an early retirement used to feel pretty horrible when it meant that I had to say NO to many of the career choices I had opening up to me. Now, there is the ability to teach again and to help them with things few adults know how to do for themselves when their own lives fall apart midstream. To live on the fringes, making a life for yourself with dignity and the ability to take pride in your own self-care and the activities you love is not such a horrible thing. I am just so happy that I am able to be a homeowner, with the ability to do the things that I am doing now, with these amazing kids.

Naming a Garden

Naming cats is far easier for me than considering a name for my garden. I have a list of future cat names to use, even though I try not to think about this since it means the possible loss of my current feline friends and this is a hard pill for me to swallow. Naming a cat is like naming a character in a story, but how do you name a place? It is far more difficult.

In an earlier post, on another blog, I read that the most obvious and remediable difference between a large estate and a home garden is that the estate is given a name, while the home garden is not. Although there are other differences, this really is something that we can easily work to change. The title is not meant to be haughty, it is meant to show inspiration and direction. It is finally giving a name to something you love, and to a place that is not just on your list of Things to Do next weekend.

It is not that easy though. My garden has been a project for about five and a half years now and its name has escaped me. I know that I can name it based on all kinds of facts, and unique markers, but how do these sound:

Apartment Behind the House Acres
Burnside Traffic Winds
Black Cat Square
Unfinished Untitled Green Symphony
Living Willow Woods
and my personal favorite, My Labor-atroy

The one thing that comes up the most when I discuss this with garden folks is that I do have a collector's garden, and that is the one thing that will never change. I imagine that will end up playing a role in the name, but I'm just not sure. When the name is made official, it will be posted here. expect that to come soon.

There are Posts to Come!

Last winter I typed away here. This winter, I am:
1—making sure to start the 250 different seeds I have lined up to grow (so far, so good!)
2—dealing with two bulging disks, physical therapy and all... (my new rubber boots did not like the none-slip plastic on my wood stairs)
3—coping with the fact that although my plasma treatment is now available in the US, my insurance won't cover the cost of $100,000 per year

More posts to come though in the coming weeks. I am happily working on several plant/garden related projects I cannot wait to share.

Garden Friendly Tattoo Wedding Ring

If you are one who loves to work with your hands, this ring is THE way to go. You'll never lose it, it doesn't slip around your finger, and best of all, your hand doesn't swell up around it. For years I thought of getting a ring tattoo, but recently, I just broke down and did it. I was sick of talking about it. The process was quick and easy, and now my husband knows that I really mean business. Nothing says, Til death Do Us Part, like a tattoo.
The plan had been to tattoo a simple band around the finger, but my friend who did the work talked me into the wave instead. I am really glad now that he did because it reminds me of a tiny vine twisting its way around my finger.
This is the perfect ring for gardening, camping, and cooking, in addition to being a wonderful idea for a tattoo.

My Two Worlds Collide, Oh My!

Anyone reading this—who actually knows me—will love the excerpt below which I pulled from the introduction of a book I recently read. The book is one in a series of classic garden literature, edited by Michael Pollan.

"For what other pastime has spawned so many fine books? Only fly-fishing comes even close....Which is probably no accident: for gardening, like angling, engages us with the natural world, as actors rather than passive spectators. Both put us smack on the frontier between nature and culture, which is always an interesting place for a writer to stand. And both literary traditions pose practical and philosophical questions about how we might better go about rhyming our desires with nature's ways, questions that only grow more urgent with time." -Michael Pollan (Introduction to the Modern Library Gardening Series)

My jaw dropped when I hit this section. Maybe in some strange way I am more like my father than I already thought I was. His life has been dedicated to the dissemination of fishing information, and sometimes, even what might be called literature too. Growing up, I met many famous fly-fishing writers and never thought a thing of it. Even famous folks my father didn't publish, knew him, and they've always appreciated what he has done for the sport over the years.

I always liked the writers a lot, but fishing was not my thing, especially when it came to spinner and/or bait fishing. (Let's not even go into the bass crowd. They are from a whole different planet.) Instead, for my outdoor fix, I chose hiking and climbing mountains. This worked well for me before the illness kicked in.

Now I am back where I started at age 18. I want to write, am still afraid to do so, and find myself interested in something, no anything, related to the natural world. Originally, I'd wanted to write about the scientific natural world, and now I am narrowing that focus to the natural world around a house, my house. Somehow, in trying to figure out what all of this meant to me, and how I should go about it, I picked up the garden writing series and started reading all of the texts. And what do I find? I found fly-fishing! Life really isn't a linear progression, but a series of circularity reminding us daily that we will always be lost in our fruitless and relentless search for meaning.

Garden Growth

A lot can happen in 4 years.

A Few of My Favorite Things

If I could have five very special things for Christmas, for my garden that is, this is what I would like:
1) An extra acre would be wonderful.
2) More help from my loving husband, because he could never lift enough.
3) A few more cats from wherever they come from and more stray dogs.
4) An endless supply of rocks and bricks.
5) Free water all summer long and daily yard debris service.

How to Write a Garden

Books and writing have been a passion of mine ever since I can remember. Whenever I was asked about what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always said a writer. Genetics being what they are, they intervened, so to speak, and I wandered through college in a way that I never would have dreamt of when I was younger. First I studied biology, then English literature, and eventually I studied art history and several languages. All of these topics I studied with so much passion I was able to propel my way through school despite my aches and pains. Without my parents' financial support, it never would have been possible, and I often wonder about other folks like me and what they are able to accomplish and how they do so. Being chronically ill leads you to many limitations, but it also clarifies so many other things. As I child I read books in a raft, floating in the creek behind our house, under the branches of an overhanging group of trees and shrubs. I was hidden to the world in that sunlit tunnel and sometimes I feel that is the place I want to return to and so here I am learning how to write a garden. How to create that kind of feeling and refuge for others, those who didn't have the childhood I had, living outside and loving wildlife the way I did.
Tonight, for the first time, I will attempt to write some short pieces for a non-profit gardening publication. This isn't something I have taken lightly. My hope is that in time I can learn to lighten other peoples' loads, while filling mine up with something that will help me carry on.