she's just saying...

crabapple

Not bad for a point and shoot.

patching things up

Perfect early summer day here today. I'm doing my favorite weekend activity: patching the pond liner. I've figured out that as usual, my impatience is the problem. You have to let the patch cure for a full day, and I can never wait that long to fill the pond and get the waterfall gurgling again.

Impatience is one of the deadly sins I struggle with, along with sloth, gluttony, envy; actually most of the other ones, but those aren't what I'm talking about here. (And let's just ignore lust, thank you.) You know you're impatient if you always swear during the interminable five seconds it takes for your computer to start up. I try to take that moment just to breathe, but I grit my teeth.

Anyway, the patch should hold this time. I did it all correctly, using a hair dryer and a number of other random tools. While I wait, I'll remind myself to enjoy the moments; this summer day, a three-day weekend, my burgeoning garden, kids' voices playing baseball, my blooming crabapple. These are the days.

Dreaming of hummers

The other night I dreamt that the hummingbirds had returned to my garden, but I didn't have the nectar feeders out, so they flew away. So yesterday I dug out the feeders, sterilized them, cooked up some nectar, filled them and hung them up. And now I wait for that wonderful whirring sound buzzing my head as I sit on my patio and enjoy the waterfall. Um, once the waterfall is working again, of course, which means figuring out how to patch it so that it stays patched. But that's another story as you know.

Last year we had a wonderful hummingbird summer. My goal this year is to take a better photo of them, still with my little point-and-shoot, which can actually take great shots. Though not this one.

Quick word quiz: name the only word in the English language that ends in mt.

Answer is in the post above.

Amaryllis of the day

striped amaryllis, originally uploaded by Meltrier.

This is probably the most spectacular one yet.

Though it's labeled "Ludwig Dazzler, a brilliant white," it clearly isn't. I'll have to do some research.

Update: it's "United Nations" if anyone out there is interested...

spring is thinking about it

Snowing lightly, but the first bulbs are bravely making their appearance. Yes, it's cold up here in the far north.

I'll bet you think this post is about you

In the face of my big sister's disapproval, I must admit that Neighbor X and I slid back into seeing each other again for the twentieth time a few weeks ago. Just dinners, wine and closeness, all very nice. I enjoyed being courted and felt content to not define it, just enjoy my best friend.

Then last Monday after my knitting retreat he invited himself up for dinner and told me he was moving to Portland. (In an odd coincidence, he told me the exact same thing exactly a year ago after I returned from my knitting weekend then. Either Valentine's Day, my knitting or February in general seems to trigger this reaction. Hmm.) He then wanted to talk about how we were going to move forward in the six weeks or so before he left.

It was clear to me that "we" weren't going anywhere, so what would be the point of continuing to see him other than the thrill of masochistic pain, which contrary to the evidence I'm not actually into. So, no contact seemed appropriate.

We've had the ritual last phone call and last email, the porch-to-porch exchange of Tupperware, and the careful avoidance of the mailbox at key times. We've done this so often that it's not even ludicrous anymore, it's just routine. (Getting back together is never routine, though, which is why we kept doing it.) Now I'm waiting for him to leave, and looking forward to spring and a return to the garden.

Speaking of the garden, the trees and plants have once again been fooled by our February thaw into thinking that spring is near. They're budding and sending up shoots, lulled into life by the recent warmth and soft rain. They don't seem to recognize the false spring or know that hard winter will return again with snow and ice in March.

I'm irritated and saddened by their naivete, as inevitably they'll get frost-burned and come up all stunted in April. You'd think by now they'd learn to wait for the real thing. I don't get it.

Hoarfrost

Hoarfrost (n): A deposit of interlocking ice crystals (hoar crystals) formed by direct sublimation on objects, usually those of small diameter freely exposed to the air, such as tree branches, plant stems and leaf edges, wires, poles, etc., which surface is sufficiently cooled, mostly by nocturnal radiation, to cause the direct sublimation of the water vapor contained in the ambient air.

Hip--hip--hippeastrum!

I'm doing that good-gardener thing and logging my amaryllis cultivars in order to remember them when I resuscitate the bulbs next year, or, more likely, order new ones.

So here is "Naughty Lady" (who names these things?):

A dwarf, single flower, not very distinguished except in extreme close-up.

And the stunner: "Rainbow":

which is far more stunning than my meager little photos can show. A double (at least) multi-budded big flower display that breaks your heart with its beauty.

Another shot:

More to come, as they continue to bloom...

Down on the farm [caution: disturbing images]

If you're ant-phobic, you might want to skip this post.

Update on our 30 28 new gal pals. (Dropping like ants around here.)

They're weirdly fascinating, and truly exhausting to watch. After digging to the bottom of their gel and building a girls-only clubhouse down there,

they're now branching out with the tunnels they're known for. We were holding our breath til they finally broke through to the top of their first tunnel, but they didn't seem too excited. They just kept going.The digger ant in front gets tired now and then and takes a nap right where she's stopped, so others just push up past her to keep up the pace.

Some of them simply run up and down the tunnels -- I can't really tell what their assignment is.

Others haul gelballs around on the surface, building up their escape route to the lid.

I can sit and watch their little world for long periods. It's haunting me, honestly.

I worry about their diet, though the booklet says the gel is edible and all they need. Should we drop in some sugar crystals at happy hour? What else do ants eat, other than picnic food? Or will that just distract them from their main purpose? (which is...)

The shipping form has strict instructions against letting them loose, but I think one escaped on the pokey stick provided to help start their tunnels. I'd hate to be the person responsible for causing invasive-ant-species havoc in Central Oregon. 

I'm also concerned about their (and our) mood if they start dying off. We're supposed to take out the dead, which the ants carry to the surface in a little funeral procession. It's going to be pretty depressing around the clubhouse when half the gang croaks.

I now feel responsible for them, on top of the cats, dog, fish, occasional kitten, child and garden. (I'd worry about my worms, too, but I can't find them.) Really, just what I need, another source of guilt and stress. If you're considering an ant farm of your own (Kathi D), you might want to think long and hard about what you're getting into. J.s.*

*just saying, of course.

the light at the end of the tunnel

Club Ant, or, We have 30 new pets

Henry received that classic boy project for Christmas, an ant farm. In case you don't have a nine-year-old, ant farms are now very hi-tech with edible (by ants) gel and disco lighting. 

We had to order the ants separately, and have been waiting and worrying about them in this cold shipping weather.

They showed up yesterday in their special ant tube, looking all crumpled and dead. We were really bummed and I was steeling myself for the customer service call and the ant return shipping , when we detected an antenna or two waving feebly.

I popped the cap and the fresh warm air must have been resuscitating, because they started to stir. We got their new compound ready and dropped them in. They all woke up and ran around like crazy, waving arms and legs and trying to storm the lid.

Since it was nighttime and they'd had a grueling flight, we thought they'd like to relax and party a little, so turned on the blue lights and cranked up the tunage.

They were clearly organizing for the great escape when we went to bed.

The booklet said that it might take them one or two days to start tunneling, but our ants ignored the instructions and got busy. Overnight, they found a fault in the gel by the side wall and carved out a little ramp and a long drop with a landing area at the bottom. They carried gel boulders up to the surface and started re-landscaping, building little hills and slopes and rock piles all over.

Henry of course wanted to name them. The booklet says they're all female. "This includes all the ant workers, soldiers, etc. that you find outdoors. Male ants are created only as needed by the colony for reproductive purposes and they die shortly after mating."

Hmm. Maybe they've got something there. Just saying.

Amaryllis, not!

From Wikipedia:
Hippeastrum is a genus of about 70–75 species and 600+ hybrids and cultivars of bulbous plants in the family Amaryllidaceae, native to tropical and subtropical regions of the Americas from Argentina north to Mexico and the Caribbean. Some species are grown for their large showy flowers. These plants are popularly but erroneously known as Amaryllis, an African genus in the same family.

I reserve the right to remain erroneous.

The Four Ages of Amaryllis

"Amaryllis by Morning..."

Poetic license there. More like amaryllis by end of December, if I'm lucky.

Brrr! It was cold last year!

I love amaryllis. (I think the singular and plural are the same here). However, the better ones are absurdly expensive. Most years, I scrounge around trying to find bulbs on sale, but by that time, it's too late to have flowers by Christmas. I've also bought the "reject" started bulbs at our local garden centers - that works, but they come with pots and are pricey even on sale. And I always attempt to resurrect a few bulbs or plants from previous years, though normally I get tired of taking care of them by August and they wither away.

This year I found an amaryllis site on line (yes, this is how I spend my valuable free time) that had an assortment of 10 bulbs for a very reasonable cost. I prepped the potsand awaited the shipment, and they arrived Wed.

Very exciting. I'll post photos as they progress.

Putting the beds to bed

Fall arrangement, originally uploaded by Meltrier.

Spent the weekend doing yardwork, chopping down irises, raking the garden and feeling virtuous. Most years I look out in December at the soggy plants and messy beds and wish I'd gotten to it all. So this year I did. Amazing what you can accomplish when you're not in a time-consuming relationship.

This arrangement is completely from the garden. Yet to be added are two Casablanca lilies who inexplicably decided to bloom in mid-November. Flower arranging is a fleeting art form, kind of like ice sculpture. Since I don't yet have a chainsaw (unlike my friend Suzanne who bought herself one when her husband was out of town), I arrange flowers.

Hummers

This summer has been filled with hummingbirds here. I have two feeders that have been buzzing with activity from dawn til dark. The hummers' whirring has accompanied my digging and hauling and struggling on the waterfall. They buzz, eat, fight, chase and perch right above my head, fearless of the humans, cats, dogs and kids right under them.

I thought the hummers had taken off on their long trip ahead, but yesterday heard that unmistakable sound and watched as one of them filled up for the flight. They have such heart for such a tiny creature. I'll be thinking of them as they fly south and look forward to their return.

an inadequate shot of an amazing bird

Taking a leak

And fixing it. Maybe.

Good news: I found the source of the leak in the pond, and it's fixable.

More good news: I found out where at least one of the tadpoles went, while I was looking for the leak: it turned into a baby frog. So clever!

Bad news: I have to move a bunch of the boulders and rocks from the pond perimeter to deal with the leak, which turns out to be from water siphoning up through some deep folds in the pond liner.

So it's back to mixing concrete, building up a little retaining wall at that edge, caulking up the folds and so forth. It's a damn good thing my job doesn't start for a week!

Who's sick of reading about my stupid water feature?

You don't need to vote. Really. Thanks.

WORMS (the good kind)

I received my worm allocation today from Laurie, the Wonder Worman.

Everybody into the pool!

My pretties.

I was expecting the big fat bait kind, but these are much smaller (they're just babies) and a whole lot more lively. Laurie has a whole operation going in her garage and can't keep up with the demand. Cool, huh?

Dead jay walking

Pretty much ever since I built this house (with my own two hands!), a nasty street gang of stellar's jays have hung out in the junipers, divebombing my cats and hurling racial and species slurs at the dog in bird-slang. They bully the other birds and throw juniper berries on us when we're on the deck. They're loud, rude and obnoxious, but they do add local color. (Blue, in particular.)

Today I saw one of the bro-jays lurking around my pondette a bit suspiciously, and this evening I couldn't see any of my tadpoles. I'm not accusing anyone of anything, but if any of those jays have frog breath, they're so busted.

Anyone have a slingshot?

Quickie

Major report due to the client tomorrow - guess who's been procrastinating? Well, at least I got the waterworks completed. There's something to be said for professional-grade procrastination - a lot gets accomplished. Just not the right lot.

Add to the catastrophe list from Sunday: a leak in the pond. Must save tadpoles!

Baby kitties, baby frogs, (big) baby dog, baby mosquitoes; we're all just a big bunch of babies around here.

Don't go chasing waterfalls

Done. Really. Now we just sit back, swat mosquitoes and watch the tadpoles grow.

Most common question to date from visitors: "Was that rock already there?"   I. Am. Not. Kidding.

Mowing

Dad and Henry, North Carolina 2003

I felt a little like my dad yesterday afternoon. Got all sweaty mowing the lawn, came inside, opened a beer and watched the ballgame.  Except I started knitting.

The Knit-Up has started a knit-along on fingerless mitts. These are very hot right now in the knitting world. I can't tell whether it's because they're so easy and gratifying to knit or whether people actually want to wear them, but they're fun. (Like socks, without the heel stuff.) They also make perfect little gifts, say, for 20-something nieces. (They don't read my blog so this won't spoil the surprise.)

I'm starting out easy on Noro mitts, then moving on to Fetching. a free pattern on Knitty.com. If you haven't been to Knitty (and you're a knitter), you're missing out. It's a young, hip, on-line knitting magazine with tons of free patterns and great writing. Check it out. Even if you don't knit.