Lady Banks She Dead

With apologies to Joseph Conrad, I cannibalized his famous Heart of Darkness line when I found the main stem of my beloved Lady Banks' rose was truly brittle,done in by Debbie. I kept hoping I would see a tiny sprig of returning green. After all, the coontie palm came back from the dead as did three of the four camellias. Even the limequat rose from the ashes. But the Lady is not coming back. Her demure, golden glory will not grace the jasmine arch this year. I will miss her.

Florida Fall Where Laziness Finds Respectability

It's still too hot to turn over too much soil. I wander around the HOCS Jardin watching dilettante butterflies dive into masses of golden cosmos and crazed,writhing cardinal vines . Somehow the entire scene reminds me of a concert where the gorgeous groupies are yelling,"Looking at me.Look at me," and the star is deciding who he will favor with his attentions.

Planting an Icon Grads

Three graduates of the first, "Planting an Icon" class, a celebration of seed, soil,sun and God's sustaining spirit. Huge thanks to three wise women!

Ma Nature Belly Laughs

She must laugh out loud when she sees me moping around the garden, gazing sadly at the dead blueberries, the wounded oak tree, and the leafless arbor tilted drunkenly northward. She must hear me when I tell St. Fiacre that I am finally going to throw in the trowel. Sure Tropical Event Debbie did Duval !Sure bad things happened in the garden! But sure too is the return of growth and green. Five weeks after Debbie's dance,the arbor has been straightened through the magic of rebar and is now encircled with the kiwi which may one day bear fuzzy fruit. The oak appears to be sending out tiny leaves on the tip of its gnarled branches. Two dead blueberry bushes and one dead camellia have started a new Hugel. Why can't I ever remember to trust the process ? Why do I still need the bumper sticker that says , " God grant me the serenity to accept the fact I can't see around corners."

A Fine Murder Weapon

I remember an Alfred Hitchcock movie that opens with two FBI agents munching on a leg of lamb. Later, it is revealed that the lamb when frozen was the murder weapon in the crime they are trying to solve. The woman who serves the agents is smiling as they discuss weapon possibilities because she did the evil deed. I thought of this scene today as I harvested potentially lethal spears of burgundy okra. Frozen, they could inflict major damage.I thought I checked the plants yesterday, but perhaps I did not check closely enough. The six inches pods are sharp pointed, curved and inedible.The four inch pods are delicious beyond belief. I ate some four inchers raw, chopped into small succulent pieces sprayed with Bragg's Aminos . Yes,one of the joys of backyard gardening is growing veggies that don't appear on the shelves of even the organic produce purveyors. Burgundy okra is one of those veggies. Plus,a pod might come in handy during a street fight. And,during the political season, who knows when one might break out???

Exodus Redux

Perhaps it is because I am preparing to teach a four week Wednesday night class at Riverside Presbyterian that I have begun to look into my garage sale pond and see my tiny fish as the Israelites. How? First, they are very tribal, the four golds do not intermingle with the mottled whites at all.The golds seem more august, wiser somehow. Are they the Levites?Second, they wait for the "manna" flakes to rain down upon them. I shake the flakes into the pond twice per day.Hummmm, I wonder. Does this cast me in the role of God? I just poured a bucket of mosquito minnows ( aka guppies) into the pond, so tomorrow I guess we'll see if the Two Tribes of Israel have become three or more.

Victoria's Real Secret

I confess. I have a reoccurring fantasy. Like all good English teachers, the fantasy is mythological in nature. It concerns a heroine, a hero, and an impossible task. My Herculean task was to create a working garden fountain for under ten dollars. Having acquired a plastic liner,an entire box load of spaghetti like tubing,two ancient pumps and some colander looking items at a garage sale for exactly ten dollars, I set out to create the magic water feature. Guess what? Forty years dealing with the power and the glory of the semi-colon in no way prepared me for assembling a workable water feature. Enter, the HERO, and not just any hero, but my favorite nature author Bill Belleville, writer of River of Lakes, the lyrical volume that gave me a new vision of the St. Johns River. Bill sat down on the hot pavement, went through the spaghetti mass of tubes and isolated the only working pump. Not my average morning.

Just as the Patience Gives Out

According to assorted gurus, gardening is supposed to inculcate many of the skills needed for success in real ( not reel) life: careful attention, flexibility, patience etc. Just as my patience became as cracked as my stepping stone because of Tropical Storm Debbie's depredations, Mother Nature provides a gift. Actually, not Mother Nature, but a neighbor wearing a battered Gator hat and chain smoking Marlboros.The gift was a garage sale pond liner, four pumps, pond netting, a blue piece of brain coral AND a plastic castle. Total cost $10. Tomorrow at dawn, I shall sink the liner which I have already tested for water tightness and create my pond. The four pumps are a little off putting for someone whose pump wisdom relates only to breasts, but I have confidence that I can figure it out. Maybe??

Seeding is Believing

According to author Angeles Arrien, June is the halfway month, the month of maximum light. It is the month we can see the flowering of seeds we've planted in the earth and in our souls. My earth seeds are fairly recognizable---deer tongue lettuce, Wild Fred tomatoes, Japanese eggplant. My soul seeds are more mysterious, less accessible to me anyway. Perhaps reading Arrien, Merton , Nataraja and David Reynolds will help me identify some of the psychic seedlings. Yesterday was an amazing bird day. Thanks to the happy invitation of some friends, I stood under one of my oak trees and looked up into the eyes of an owl family--four small owls, one big owl. Of course, the big owl was only the size of a Bud Light can. I stared up; they stared down. Then, I flew away. Back at HOCS, a snowy egret the size of a Great Dane posed for a photo op framed by the garden arch. I, of course, did not have my camera. Perhaps the seedling message was that I need to practice really seeing rather than recording for future viewing. Interesting thought!

Goodbye Beloved Bottini

The beautiful map of the St. Johns River was smashed to smithereens by Beryl the Beast. I have tried to reassemble it but parts are missing. All things change. I know that. I hate that. At least sometimes I do.

How to Create Balance in an Unbalanced Life

When the garden day is done,let’s strip off the gloves, put down the trowel, and go plop on the garden stones or the back steps.Let's sip a little cool water, crank up the Stones or Carlos Naikai, and let the afternoon's steam recede into the live oaks. When the pale moon peeks out, we can watch and feel the earth itself breathe in relief exhaling its perfume of rosemary,jasmine,and Cecile Bruner roses. Let's find ourselves lost in Rabbi Abraham Heschel's "radical amazement." For just a moment let's be deep in celebration of what actually is, not in anticipation of what might be if we just could work harder, longer or smarter. For just a moment let's banish those culturally approved adjectives of illusion. ( N.B.This idea is from Pastor T.Hershey. I changed some of the words to fit N.Florida)

Goodbye Prince Charles

Running a business in a 100+ year old house is like sailing the high seas in an ancient wooden sailboat. The boat leaks at times. The engines whine on occasion. One hopes that some crew member will have the expertise to stop leaks and fix engines, or the boat will take on water from the storms of life and sink. For the past two years, the person who has stopped the leaks and fixed the engines at the House on Cherry B&B was Charles Bradford Faughn, a dear neighbor. Brad was a man who could negotiate the best price with tradesmen and do a superb job on almost anything himself, a person who read interesting books and was eager to share them, a good cook, a devoted mate and a fine gardener. He built the micro greens garden, hauled hundred of pounds of organic dirt, brokered the hex stones that created the beach and fixed the garden’s bulkhead. He marveled at the miracle of seed and sun and soil much the same way I have always done. He died this morning. I feel blessed to have known him.

It's Not Gift of the Nile, Folks!

Judging from some comments, many of my well educated friends have read too many geography texts and see too many You Tube videos in which there are descriptions of the Nile " flowing gleefully over the Egyptians fields,adding rich soil to the alluvial plain." The St. Johns is NOT the Nile. My damage assessment is still going on. When it flowed over my fields via Beryl's breath, it salt burned my vegetation, and left a pyramid of dock planks, 105 Sprite cans and tons of Styrofoam peanuts.( Which should be banned from the earth.) On a brighter note,once again my garden has exhibited its Etch-A-Sketch side. Now, what new designs will appear?

Hurricane Beryl's Ballet

She pirouetted across my garden, dropping trees like abandoned partners. She spun over the river patio and hurdled hexagons. She deposited two kittens in the compost area and washed all of the mulch out of the labyrinth. For and afterthought, she sent horizontal winds into the attic laden with rain which created and interesting pattern on the B&B upstairs ceiling. Then she exited stage left. Not a bad opening act for the 2012 Hurricane Season.

Cursor Crazy

Laughter is therapeutic. As I stood before the 300 dear members of the Florida State Garden Club Convention, I was not at all certain my audio visual component would be functional. The laptop cursor had developed a mind of its own and periodically would drift to left or right and on occasion would disappear completely. I began having a 30 year flashback to that moment in Miami Beach's Fountainbleu Hotel when the power went out after my first slide and I stood in the dark telling 600 folks, " What you would have seen, would be??????????????????? Luckily, on Friday May 11 the A.V.gods bestowed mercy. The Power Point worked and my evangelical message concerning the necessity for community garden was delivered and seemed well received. Thank you, Mr. Cursor. Huge thanks!

To Every Season

There is a time. Right now it is time to inhale the almost overwhelmingly pungent jasmine. It is everywhere. If it weren't 83 degrees one might think that snow had fallen, blanketing the river arch and the side bushes. The azaleas put on quite a show, but the almost luridly pink blossoms did not carry the aromatic impact of the jasmine.Nothing says deep South to me like the jasmine. Nothing.

Welcome to the Hotel Calamondin

They are bending the limbs down on my tree, even breaking some. Yes, there are thousands of Barbie sized orange look alikes. Their purpose in life is calamondin ade with lots of honey. Better yet, I go to the IFAS canning kitchen and watch Phylis, the canning guru, demonstrate how to create jars of marmalade or cupcakes. Yum ! A locavore's dream.

House of the Rising Sun-flower

Just finished one of the best books I've ever read on attracting birds to the back yard. It's called Best-Ever Backyard Birding Tips by Deborah L. Martin. I've always been somewhat casual about attracting birds, believing that those feathered folk who wanted to come would show up. Then I began reading about the importance of birds in pest control and pollination and decided I needed more help in the both departments. Evans is a delight to read. She assumes no prior knowledge. Her last hint is, if you have time to do only one thing plant a sunflower. Black oil sunflower seed is the preferred delight of most birds in NE Fla.

The Lime in Winter

Mornings on the St. Johns shore have been heartbreakingly gorgeous. First, the cosmic artist drenches the sky with ebony which fades into blue;then a slash of apricot appears. Birds begin to zip westward. They are silhouettes of aerodynamic zoom and purpose. Later in the morning the Top Gun pilots will try to emulate them, much higher and so very much louder.

Compost Tea in a Sun Tea Jar

Put some high grade compost in one of those mysteriously single socks that return unmatched from the washing machine. Add water. Some folks add molasses and use an aquarium pump. I don't. I put the jar in the Florida sunshine and leave it for three to five days. Then I decant it and pour it on my green friends. I am frequently assisted by my grandson Harry, a truly amazing novice gardener.