Yeah, that would be Windy. And frankly, I always thought that Windy, as commemorated in song by The Association, had a dark side to her apparent nonstop ecstasy. There were definite implications of a Crazy Lady thing going on. A little too frenetic and happy, know what I mean? This infernal wind has the same general tone of borderline personality disorder. Oh, it seems benign, but it gets a little whipped up and just never stops. And it just seems ODD.
Safely protected from this wind, the Rainbow Knockouts are thriving. They were massively
verklempt after the summer heat, but now they've regained their composure and their true sunlit pink.
I planted a holiday poinsettia in the ground after Christmas last year and now it appears to be fixing to bloom. It's a white flowered variety.
The Icebergs are also blooming prolifically; but since they are exposed to the street frontage, suffer from the wind. Tonight on my walk in the 'hood, the wind was out of the south at a steady 15 knots by the look of the windsock at Dept. of Health. Weather.com says gusting to 28mph. Maybe we should install windmills on our houses instead of solar panels. If you're thinking, why doesn't she shut up about the wind, go read someone else's blog. I'm telling you right now: this wind ain't natural.
Charles survived the so-called freeze. He was bundled in his makeshift tent but I don't think it froze here as some of my unprotected plants in front also seem unfazed. He is busy producing another flush of buds, so in about 3 weeks, if I can keep them safe, there will be another performance of the yellow bells. Helping this brug winter over has now become my
raison d'etre. Yes, I know, get a life. But really, it helps to focus on trivial matters when the world is spinning around, doesn't it?
Somewhere between the trivial and very important is the save-the-date postcard I'm working on for Grace's wedding. It's a take-off on old timey postcards; I plan to have the printer leave the job untrimmed and then cut them myself with deckle-edge scissors. Among the Narrangansett motifs, I included the heavenly
Rosa Rugosa on the lower left-hand side of the image. This seashore-loving rose grows in dense thickets along the coastline and its scent is an intense mix of rose, lemon and seaspray. And, with red roses being the symbol of love, this bit of Rhode Island botany seemed just right.
Yeah, that would be Windy. And frankly, I always thought that Windy, as commemorated in song by The Association, had a dark side to her apparent nonstop ecstasy. There were definite implications of a Crazy Lady thing going on. A little too frenetic and happy, know what I mean? This infernal wind has the same general tone of borderline personality disorder. Oh, it seems benign, but it gets a little whipped up and just never stops. And it just seems ODD. 
I planted a holiday poinsettia in the ground after Christmas last year and now it appears to be fixing to bloom. It's a white flowered variety. 
The Icebergs are also blooming prolifically; but since they are exposed to the street frontage, suffer from the wind. Tonight on my walk in the 'hood, the wind was out of the south at a steady 15 knots by the look of the windsock at Dept. of Health. Weather.com says gusting to 28mph. Maybe we should install windmills on our houses instead of solar panels. If you're thinking, why doesn't she shut up about the wind, go read someone else's blog. I'm telling you right now: this wind ain't natural.
Charles survived the so-called freeze. He was bundled in his makeshift tent but I don't think it froze here as some of my unprotected plants in front also seem unfazed. He is busy producing another flush of buds, so in about 3 weeks, if I can keep them safe, there will be another performance of the yellow bells. Helping this brug winter over has now become my raison d'etre. Yes, I know, get a life. But really, it helps to focus on trivial matters when the world is spinning around, doesn't it? 
We made our annual pilgrimage to Port Aransas to celebrate Thanksgiving. Lots of food, pies, wine, scrabble, long walks, and shelling. We had a bonfire/hootenanny on one of the cool nights. 
The dunes at Port Aransas are looking taller and healthier than I've ever seen them. The vegetation is something to behold especially in the fall. The grass seedtops turn silver, red, and chestnut. 
After seeing the magnificent Pindo Palm at Peckerwood Garden last week, I came back determined to plant one at Aurora. Shoalcreek Nursery had some really healthy looking specimens, so doing my part to keep the economy from sinking I sank my own $40 into this plant last weekend. It took me a week to mull over where it might best be situated. This spot gets full blast-furnace sun during midday, and filtered sun the remainder. I put it in a bed of decomposed granite to keep its little feet dry and happy. Supposedly they are very slow growing, but its graceful arching form is already quite lovely to look at. I think the Peckerwood one was 10 years old; it was around 15 ft. and had its own little microclimate under its canopy.
Another bloom day arrives at Aurora with nothing much to add to the sum of gardening splendor. The Iceberg roses in front are blooming but the petals are wrenched from their stems about an hour after opening by this crazy wind and then strewn about the yard like styrofoam peanuts. 
The white plumbago is pretty; but the four plants all take turns flowering, so there is never a mass display which is what I was striving for. Striving plays a big part in my garden vocab. Despite my careful study I am unable to discern the bud/flower/seed pattern in the plumbago so I am never certain when to shear off. I cannot tell what is past flower and what is new flower bud.
