You stand outside at 8:30 in the evening, it's dark,cold and really windy and you're filling up walls of water to protect the Tomato's. I was watching my Grandson 'Jalen' tonight and his folks just picked him up at 8:15, but Iowa has frost warnings out so I still had to take care of a few things outdoors this evening after he left. He would have loved helping Grandma fill those Walls of Water, but it was too cold and windy to have a 3 year old outside this evening. I'm soaked! But it was worth it! LOL!
ha ha !!! You really gave me a chuckle! My mother has been pulled over for 'gawking' at someones yard, the local police thought she was drunk, after they pulled her over they realized she was a 'gawker' and let her go with a warning. She no longer drives so were all safe now - LOL!
You know you're a gardener when...
Your mother takes you by a house that she gawks at everyday when driving your brother to school, stops and knocks on the guy's door to ask what a certain plant in his yard is. Poor guy had two crazy ladies stalking him : )
When you plant out your maters, peppers, eggplants, and herbs around Mother's Day, and it's on the cusp of the last frost. You can't sleep all night, because your mind is on those little baby veggies, so you have the weather channel on one television, in eyes distance, and your glued to your PC with your local forecast, the sun is barely up, and your out in your garden in your checkered boxers, sweatshirt, ski-cap, cup of Joe in one hand, flashlight in the other, your heart is beating soooo fast, hoping they survived their first night in their new environment. Repeating this process for about a week or so. Your new neighbors are off to work, they catch a glimpse, wondering, "Who's this freak that just moved to our neighborhood." That freak, would be me, and it will take place once again in about 3 weeks.
Your neighbor ISN'T and has her boyfriend MOW DOWN THE TULIPS! Every year! And you want to cry (or beat her with a trowel! LOL!)
They aren't living there this year (living at BF house) and when he came to mow my heart stopped! Thank Goddness he left them this time- first time they have been able to bloom in YEARS. (if he had mowed them- I would have been out there that night digging those babies up)
You know you're a gardener when...it's 2:34am and you tell yourself, "I've GOT to get to bed!" but instead continue to whittle down that list of iris so you can fax your order in before you go to bed.
That was me last nite and if I don't get to bed soon it will be me again tonight with fall bulbs, but instead of ordering them I'll be searching for sources of specific cultivars based on observations made the last few weeks.
- when your family members run out in to the garden in search of you whenever you are needed.
- when you spend hours on end forgetting what time it is, or even ignoring/managing the mosquitoes that prick you.
- when friends visiting you glance at the garden first [to see if you are found hanging around, before ringing the doorbell!
- when your spouse frowns on seeing new plants arrive from the nursery [happened to me y'day!]
When you can't find your keys and your husband silently gets up, finds a flashlight, and proceeds outside to see where you tossed them down on your way from the car to the house... and FINDS them out there... after you are protesting that they must be in the house because YOU would never do something like that. :)
When hubby won't let you go to the store alone for fear of what you might bring home.
When he answers the phone "wait a minute, she's out in the yard SOMEWHERE".
When you run out of room and start planting in the neighbor's yard.
When the tiniest tips of bulbs showing in the spring is better than Christmas.
When your neighbor tells your husband "Your wife is killing me. Kathy said she is putting us to shame and I at least have to fix up the side of our house that Jamie can see." Oh yes, he ripped out all sorts of nasty old shrubs and made a quite pretty shade garden since, and I quote "you're the one that has to look at it." Oh, and when said neighbor's wife (Kathy) is nothing short of elated when she hears that you said her garden looks pretty! You would think Betty Crocker complimented her baking! :)
I'm a gardener and I'm OK.
I sleep all night and I plant all day!
I dress in grubby clothing, and hang around with slugs.
Oh I'm happy in the garden With dirt and plants and bugs . . .
(to the tune of Monty Python's "I'm a Lumberjack")
This is the perfect spot for this song!! I was looking at another post here at dave's and this song was part of a link!!!!!
You know you are a gardener when...
-You offer to rake the neighbors lawn just for the free grass clippings and leaves.
-You find yourself correcting the current gardening 'advisor' on the television.
-You can spot a specific plant out of the corner of your eye while traveling down the highway @ 65 mph but missed noticing the crowd of people you just passed. (no I wasn't driving).
-You are thrilled when someone offers you a load of manure...delivered.
When you run out at dusk to cover the 6 by 8 portable/tent type greenhouse with a blanket so you little ceramic heater doesn't run all night trying to keep your plants warm. At that moment you forget about the rope tying off the greenhouse to a stake in the ground then trip over it. Thud! Luckily no bones broken, just sore for a few days and even luckier no one was home to see me on the ground looking so ridiculous.
He is my youngest, 10 years old! And I have to say, out of my 3 kids...he will be the gardener in the family. He has known the correct names for many plants since he was really young! LOL His Nana (on his dad's side) is a big gardener so she taught him many things about plants and gardening! Here is a pic of him on Sunday when he helped my take 18 pups off a banana tree. LOL
-the backyard wildlife (birds, rabbits, etc..) think you and your dog are Grazers, not Hunters, and no longer have any fear of you both
-it is impossible to find a clean pair of white sneakers in your house... EVER
-you cannot pick-up, move, or even touch a pair of gloves without your dog running to the back door with a wagging tail
you pack two friends in the front of a pick-up, drive 35 minutes to a great plant shop, fill the 8 ft pick-up truck full and the front of the cab, barely seeing anyone but the driver and then head to another plant shop, just in case they have something you REALLY need!
When you are happily working away in the garden when you suddenly realize you have been grinning like a fool for the last four hours while planting, weeding, feeding. Happens *all* the time.
You stop at your favorite nursery and have to struggle to find enough room in your vehicle for all your purchases, knowing you still need to stop at the grocery store. And when you arrive at your car with the groceries, some passing fellow yells, "Hey, Bob, check this out! She thinks she's gonna get these groceries in here!" And you do. And they applaude.
When horticultural rapture becomes medical bills and you know it is worth it.
When you buy a truck because you will always need mulch, lots of it.
When you pray you will get a big pile of doo for Mother's Day.
Brinda - thanks for the photo. I don't know diddly about 'nanners but I'm thinking 18 pups is VERY good increase! Thanks for letting me know his age...was curious how long I have until my DD (3 yrs old) starts telling folks the same thing. LOL
I just LOVE this thread...thanks for starting it momof2d
This is a great thread. It's always nice to come here and read all the good information from everyone...and this thread is a plus. Makes me smile and giggle too...and sometimes really LAUGH OUT LOUD!!!
Brenda, we didn't know diddly about nanners either a couple of years ago. LOL And now I'm not sure we know a lot, just how to butcher them. LOL
You spend hours happily writing E-mails back and forth about the pros and cons of various types of animal poop (actual experience in the "Coleus" Forum)
You wait expectantly for the neighbors to finish raking and bagging all their leaves and grass clippings and setting the bags out on the curb so that you can run over and grab them and dump them out into your own yard while they watch, totally perplexed.
I'm marking this thread as one to "watch!" Thanks for making me laugh today!
Jeremy! No --- thank you! I know people must drive by my house and shake their heads in dis-belief when I'm doing what I love the most in heat/cold and inclement weather! I'm glad I'm not alone, However...I've not snagged anyones leaves/grass yet, I did ponder it though --- LOL!
You Know you're a gardener when... you fire a yard man for tieing back the limbs of a mimosa tree that is shading your Hostas. ...and pitching soil over into your raised bed ... almost completely covering your young seedlings. grrrrrrr!
... you have a corporate meeting on Monday morning and your nails are so stained with dirt Sunday night that you have to paint them (as is the case with me tonight). I have one bottle of polish, and one bottle only. A very nice metalic "dirt" brown. Thank goodness for closed toe pumps - I hate painting my nails. :)
...you run outside in your t-shirt and undies at 5:30am when the sun is "just right" to take a picture and post it on DG. Thankfully the neighbors can't see our back yard.
You prune your roses more often than you trim your toenails.
You have something you call a "native plant sanctuary" that most people would call a weed patch.
You are leaving a mega store through the garden section and notice that their pots of purslane are looking leggy, so you pinch off the ends and put it in your shirt pocket and justify your actions to yourself and to anyone with you that this is not pilfering, it is pruning and propagating, and it is in the best interest of the plant (and then you go home and start a whole new patch of purslane with the pinched off ends).
(Those quilty of the above sin of commission may say three agAVE Marias and receive immediate absolution, but only if the purslane grew.)
"When you run out of room and start planting in the neighbor's yard"- Been there done that and continuing to do that under the guise of cross pollination. I had no idea there was someone else out there doing it. I feel so... so... not alone any more.
Well, I didn't run out of room, the garden just grew...On the south side of my house I have a partial shade garden do to the 5 fruit trees. The trees were planted on the lot line...I figured, 20 years ago, that the only thing bad is that the branches would hang onto the neighbors lawn...no biggie...but then I decided to plant some stuff under the trees...(BTW I only have 6' on that side of the house..) Well, like everything else in FL it grew and grew and grew...In fact, that is where "The Award Winning Coleus" lives..
Not long ago, while in my study, which is on that side of the house, I could hear my neighbors plotting a fence...my heart stopped...there would go my garden...my garden-their garden...whatever!!!! Then I heard, but we can't hurt her garden...YES!!!!!!!!!!!! no fence was ever built...yipee... Close call there, guys...
Here's mine/our/their garden... I'm on the left...remember...I have 6'...Whoa...a little over I would say...
Right on Jeremy!!! For that matter, I'm not always sure either...just recently I went weeding only to discover a begonia with two little leaves no bigger than a dime...had my hand reaching and then I saw the angel wings...
Thanks, Hap, for sharing the pix of your newest arrival (assuming you haven't been out shopping for plants a dozen times since the seedling showed up --- LOL!)
I've had the same experience of my hand grasping a clump of weeds, and then quickly releasing and recoiling when I find that the weeds have some "volunteer" I was about to pull up by accident, or by being in too much of a rush (or continuing to pull weeds after nightfall when you can't tell what's a weed and what is not, as others have mentioned here). It is a heart-stopping, breath-gasping experience for me when I almost destroy one of those precious little garden gifts.
I'm off to the bank to try to get some money deposited before checks bounce --- another, "You know you are a gardener when..."
You suddenly find your financial situation has totally crumbled because you've been too preoccupied with the divine experience in the garden to pay attention to such mundane matters as how much money is in the bank.
One of the more serious side-effects or our addiction!
I have composed the following essay on the definition of 'Scruples' :
‘Scruples’ is a rare cultivar of Moralis principium in the Family, Ethicus, according to my desk reference of botanical nomenclature.
It is an heirloom species, seldom seen in today’s world. It is found on the “Endangered” list in most areas, and may, in fact, be altogether extinct.
It has long been banned and strictly prohibited from being held or allowed to grow in Washington DC and other governmental centers. There, it is considered a highly invasive weed that can overtake and severely curtail the pulp produced by the political farming industry.
It is considered extremely addictive and dangerous, much more so than marijuana and other mind-altering plants. Once a person has indulged in growing or using ‘Scruples,’ they may never be able to recover from its effects. The use of ‘Scruples’ has been known to leave people completely ineffective and incapable of dealing with even the simplest tasks in our modern world. If you possess or use ‘Scruples,’ you must keep this fact a closely guarded secret. Otherwise, you will be at a distinct disadvantage in life, especially in matters of business (e.g., used car deals, prenuptial agreements, courtroom appearances, and contracts of any sort).
Fortunately, wherever it is found, ‘Scruples’ can be easily plucked out and replaced with the more chic and far more easily propagated species, Moralis turpitudinous. In today’s culture, society, and international trade relations, M. turpitudinous is generally considered to be of much greater utilitarian value than M. principium ‘Scruples.’ Anyone found with ‘Scruples’ today is likely to be ridiculed as being old-fashioned and foolish.
As far as how many tomatoes might one swap for ‘Scruples’? Why would anyone in their right mind trade a valuable fruit for such a devalued commodity?
copyright 06/27/2005 by Jeremy Lucas. Free to share, please contact the author prior to printed publication. (I do have some pretensions of being a "professional writer" on occasion) ;)
Sure thing, Hap. I don't mind my little Ben Franklinish essay being forwarded everywhere to friends, family, foes, congresspeople, etc. I am just reserving publication rights for any use by the media (as if they are going to be breaking down my door for a copy!) ;)
You are privileged to be on an exclusive guest list and invited to a posh party at an oceanfront mansion. Arriving at the party and overlooking the sea from the veranda, you notice a northeaster has blown in TONS of seaweed. You ask the hostess for some garbage bags, leave the party, and go to the beach to gather seaweed to use as mulch and compost (some of the best stuff ever for trace elements!) while the other party guests stare down from the deck above in disbelief.
Yep! bluegrass. Checking out the landscape and restraining myself from also leaving the party with a pocketful of "prunings" from plants I didn't have (but I was this time not willing to part with my 'Scruples').
There was a sign on the beach that said "$500 Fine for Disturbing Sea Oats." But the darn things looked like they could use a good scare to help them stimulate growth, so I lurched at them suddenly and made booga-boo faces at them. I was able to escape without the $500 fine.
I am trying not to stray from the subject on this thread, but I simply must respond to Hap's last post!
You are teasing those of us who would dearly love to see some rain, because everything in our once-green gardens is now just a bunch of crispy critters! Please, please send some of that rain our way!! ;-)
You know when... Your 33 year old DD, helps you plant three lilly bulbs out of fifty, and tells everyone that comes by, (after they bloom) "come look at my lillies".. and you know that you've done something right after all!
You know when... you email your wish list to perfect strangers!
But the toads are such a healthy benefit to my garden!
...And the pool I'm speaking of is an old "cement pond" (to quote Jethro from the B. Hillbillies) that was here when I bought my house and which I've been struggling with for three years to get to hold water. None of the concrete patching stuff would work and the pond would drain most of the way down everytime I filled it with water. It turns out that toad eggs apparently make wonderful cement crack patching!! The pond has been filled to the brim with water since the toads got amorous there on a recent romantic, rainy night with full moon. I've been doting around the pond like an expectant father, waiting for the first sign of tadpoles, while dropping in mosquito dunks to kill off the insect larvae.
I may have to install speakers out near the "cement pond" and pipe in Barry Manilow music for the toads to more fully enjoy their trysting. Or do you think the toads would prefer something with a little more hip-hop* beat, like Issac Hayes?
I'm too old to know any of the rap groups. I dropped out the music scene at age 30 (25 years ago!) when my young girlfriend at the time took me to CBGB's punk rock venue in NYC and I groaned to myself at the ear blasting sounds, "Gawd, these young kids and their awful music!" I knew at that very moment that I had crossed over the line and had become an old fogey.
*("hop" in the same line as "toads," Oh, what a bad pun!)
I can't help myself...I HAVE to post this!!!!LOL
Jeremiah was a bullfrog
Was a good friend of mine
I never understood a single word he said
But I helped him a-drink his wine
And he always had some mighty fine wine
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls now
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
If I were the king of the world
Tell you what I´d do
I´d throw away the cars and the bars and the war
Make sweet love to you
Sing it now...
Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Well, Pati, how dumb of me! Of course, that is the perfect song for toad trysting in the garden of Jeremy! Maybe an old 8-track version would work best to encourage the toads along (as if they need any encouragement!)
"Jeremiah" also happens to be one of the favorite songs of my consort, Christina, so I could probably get away with having a continuous loop of the song playing in the garden without her clobbering me.
Last night, she almost said, "Which is it going to be, me or the plants?" when she found me up typing away madly at 4:20 AM on the DG website. I may now need to limit my online garden gossip if I am to continue my own romantic trysting.
Hey Jeremy! I feel your pain with the cement pond inheritance ordeal! Here is a link to my thread in the Water Gardens forum if you're interested. I decided to go ahead and try to restore it after much lamenting. I got lots of great advice from other DGers. If you want to check it out, the first post in this thread gives links to the other 2 threads I started related to this pond o death! I have high hopes that it will turn out okay... but I only bred mosquitoes, no toads. :)
You're at a corporate strategic planning retreat at the Del Coronado Hotel in San Diego and you use the lunch break to pull weeds from their flower beds. As you return to the meeting with black fingernails, you wonder if your favorite weeding tool will pass through airport security for next year's retreat.
(Honestly, you'd think at a place like that they'd do a better job keeping up with the weeds!)
you know your a gardener when...
you 'preen' your neighbors yards and then for the survivors, go around with the weed killer.
...you cry over the loss of your lilies from the voles. then go to dg and google to search for information on how to kill the little buggers. lilies are my first addiction and anything or anyone that harms them shall do so under penalty of death.
...your doggie looks over at you, to see if its ok if he lifts his leg here or not. LOL
thanks for the laughs and the 'uh huh i do that too.'
debi & franklin
Oh I love getting a good laugh in the morning to go with my coffee! I especially love the "doggie looking up at you to see if its ok to lift his leg here or not" one, I guess I better train Buster a little better, he thinks our yard is 'his' yard! LOL Thanks for the laughs!
Here is a very true "You Know You're A Gardener When" that I am going through right now.
You know you're a gardener when you have ruptured a disk in your back and can barely walk while having numb, tingling painful legs, but you use your hoe as a cane and have your husband help sit you on the ground in the middle of your flower bed so you can weed and when you get finished call him from your cell phone to help you get up and move to another flower bed.
You know when...you go off to play golf, hit the garden shop on the way home, arrive home with a trunkful of plants...and it's already JULY!!! (but they were all on sale, marked waaaay down and I had the cash, and I've got a few bare spots, and it's only July...)
Well meezer, try that same senerio but you live in TEXAS!!!!
Yesterday I planted a burford holly because I have been looking for a non-dwarf one to replace the one the arborist accidentally cut down. My husband's heart was broken b/c for whatever reason, he loved that tree. So I finally found one and bought it... but they had a bunch of stuff 75% off so I got that too. I planted it all yesterday... at 2pm. Did I mention this is Texas?! It was 100 degrees out, and that is not being used as a figure of speech here. It was literally 100 degrees! I was watching the 5 day forecast on the local news on Monday and across the board for the high temps for the week it went like this: 99, 100, 100, 100, 100. At 10pm it is still HOT outside. Not warm, but sweating kind of hot. Yet there I was, planting new plants of all things. Why? Then I got out the weedeater and lawn mower. Crazy much? No, just a gardener. :)
Oh, had two other "must be a gardener" moments yesterday. First of all, they closed our office early so we could go play Whirly Ball. When I found out we didn't have to go play if we didn't want to, I was thrilled. Soooo, I could drink free beer and have free food while playing a fun game in the air conditioning, or, go home and do back breaking work in the 100 degree heat. Well, we all know what I chose.
Then, since I finally determined I could not get much done if I dropped dead from a heat stroke, I finally went inside to cool off from about 4:45-6pm (then went back out for 3 more hours). So what could I do? Can't sit on the couch as nasty as I was, but I didn't want to take a shower when I knew I would just go back outside again. So I have invented the "gardener shower." It involves cool water, can last no more than 5 minutes, and you cannot wash your hair. Soap is optional. Heck, the real purpose is to cool off if I'm being honest. Not to get clean. So I hosed off the ick, tossed some soap around, and put on some clean clothes. After my break, those came off, the nasty ones from earlier went back on, and I was back outside for round 2. INSANE!!! But you know what they say, there is a fine line between hobby and mental illness. LOL!
It's already 90 here, supposed to get up to 101. I just came in from weeding and discovered something I'm sure other people do all the time. I put the oscillating sprinkler on so that it hits me at some point in it's cycle no matter what part of the yard I'm in. I was out there soaking, but weeding in comfort. You know you're a gardener when all the neighbors are driving by staring at you like you're crazy! Ü
You rush out into the middle of the street, waving your arms frantically, to stop an oncoming auto from smashing into two black swallowtail butterflies that are dancing together in a manner that would suggest they were becoming "intimately acquainted." *
*Sugarweed and my postal carrier were the eyewitnesses to this bit of insanity this afternoon.
By the way, I did a Google search and also searched the DG "Garden Terms" and can't find any reference to the terminology associated with "the science of the study of butterflies" (e.g., study of birds = ornithology, study of all life = biology, the study of fungi = mycology). What is the appropriate term for butterfly research and information?
Is it Flitology? or Flutterology? Or, a more serious term, like Papillonology?
Thanx, Sstate. That one might work, though I'm not sure my neighbors would approve or what I think is a rock group? (Remember, I dropped out of paying any attention to music with old age at 30 and punk rock music). How about a hip-hop rap version of "When Froggie Goes a Courtin' ??"
Oh, congratulations are due me: my progeny of tadpoles have hatched! I'm not sure how many hundred offspring I have, but Sugarweed and a friend confirmed with me this morning that the pond is teeming with taddies. I'm not sure if there are any legal restrictions on transporting toads across state lines or if PETA will descend upon me with vehement protests, but once my brood reach the stage of having legs and losing their tails, I can carefully pack them and ship them in jars of water to all for postage only. Otherwise, I might soon be overrun by the bellowing bounty of Bufonidae that are swelling in numbers in the algae pool.
What do tadpoles eat? Does Iam's have a special nutritional supplement for them?
Oh save me from myself, dragged DH back there today and bought another $80 worth of marked down perennials and real cheap annuals. I have to stop going there, I am truly running out of bare ground. If those blanketyblank rabbits keep nibbling though, I might have to make another trip. Did see some interesting hosta...
Jax - yes, that would certainly be rock. Cream was Eric Clapton's band before he went solo. Depending on your neighbors, though, I think they might prefer that to "hip-hop". Personally if I had a neighbor playing Cream, I'd bring him a beer. If he was playing mip-hop I might be tempted to pour it on him instead.
Meezers - I do the same thing. I went on a run daybefore yesterday for one little pack of boston ivy and left with the back of my jeep loaded and $120 poorer.
LOL Woofy! My biggest find was at a dollar store. They had plastic colanders in the most beautiful deep jewel colors. I guess the lady at the cash register wondered what I was going to do with 5 purple and cobalt blue colanders! I planted Sweet William in them and they were just gorgeous! Only a blue one made it through the hurricanes last year, and it's full of Duck Foot Coleus.
I was just outside thinking about this thread... and I realized that when you complain that hanging baskets are $.03 cheaper at WalMart than at Dollar General you have it REALLY BAD!
I was outside filling 2 planters with potting soil, gonna put some of that new Rose Kong in each and I'm not sure what else. I have 2 baskets that I got from my mom (yard sale finds) that I have to decide what to put in, but until DH gets home, I'm out of potting soil LOL
I luv this thread -
Mine is - you know your a gardener when your over 50 and still working full time just to support your "plant" habit and so hubby doesn't really know how much money you spend each month on plants that you "sneak" into your yard before he comes home from work at night.
Your excited over the outdoor portable spotlights that your husband bought for his workshop that you took over, so that you can now work in your garden during the winter months when it gets dark early
Thanks Bluegrass! It works really for me, but sometimes my DN (dear nephew?) has to drag me out of the garden and remind me that lightening and big metal framed umbrellas can lead to one crispy gardener.
at 6:00 am in the morning, in the wind and pouring rain you get out of your warm bed to go outside and make sure your corn is surviving the high winds from the remnants of that darn hurricane Cindy or whatever it is! And you talk to a couple of your corn stalks that are leaning and tell them that they will be alright. You then run over to your tomato plants and put some more ties gently around them because they seem to have grown a foot over night and are bending away from the stakes. You talk to them too and tell them that you love them and that they will be OK.
sheesh...Having a garden is like being pregnant...you try not to worry over your the development of the baby, but you sure will be glad when the little one gets here...Now my babies are my plants, and I sure will be glad when I can harvest!!!
...When you hear about any tropical depression and immediately start developing a plan to store all those container plants you SWORE you wouldn't have after last year's storms. Suddenly you discover you have somehow accumulated twice as many this year!
When you head outside each morning, early, in some oddly mismatched outfit (hey, lucky it wasn't the nightgown!), hair askew, no makeup, to start collecting that precious pollen, marking each container, sighing at the beauty of those lovely blossoms, photographing each, deciding which to cross, marking the tags, crossing the pollen onto pistils, hanging the tags, writing all this down as you go... not realizing hours have passed and you've greeted all of your neighbors who are out walking their dogs or heading to work. They think I am nuts - and half of them are psychiatrists (uh oh). I know they are telling "therapy" jokes behind my back. Not that I'm paranoid.
Why am I surprised that suddenly I am so brown?
As someone else mentioned above, LOVE Farm stores - real tools! Love corn fields, too.
When you buy Culvers Frozen Custard in bulk, so that when you come in from the garden all hot and sweaty you can reach into the freezer for a quart you brought home. Who has time to eat real food? The psychiatrists I suppose...
You know you're a gardener when you go from bed to the kitchen to start the coffee. And then you head out the back door to check on all the plants, seeing how everybody made it through the night, who's up, who's blooming, how the newcomers and repotted plants look today. Then you can get your cup of coffee and go wash your face, brush your teeth , brush your hair and change chothes.
The morning inspection is done in the backyard and I hope the neighbors don't look out of their windows early in the morning.
When you spent your bathroom renovation money on plants so you can only buy the jetted tub nothing else and start eyeballing the tub with thoughts of compost tea running through your head. My DD keeps reminding me I would never get it clean again...oh well.
I do a morning and evening walk. And...if it is an especially hot or stormy day I have been known to go out in the middle of it. Only a fellow gardener would understand this behavior. While my family rolls their eyes at my 'obsession' with anything green, they tell me they do very much appreciate the fruits of my labor (lots of fresh veggies, fruit and herbs). So, I guess I can live with the rolling of eyes. lol
you know you're a gardener when you ride down the highway and see large plots of open land and start thinking of all the veggies and fruits you could grow there while observing the pattern of the sun on that particular piece of land.
...when you start visualizing--planning--wondering about NEXT SUMMER'S garden projects, changes, additions, plant-relocations, weather, etc etc etc...NOW, during the busiest time. adding "garden greed" to our other sins...like "garden porn" LMBO!!!!
when you and 2 of your 3 kids at home have mono, and you still go outside at 8 AM to water, even though the sunlight makes your eyes feel like they are frying, and you have to lay down on the couch for 2 hours to recover LOL
Gonna beg DH to water tonight when he gets home
I just can't stand the thought of my poor babies frying in this heat. Most of my plants are in containers, so they need lots of water.
The DR says the only thing to do is rest, but that is so hard with little ones. My 14 yr old is away at a friends because he is over it already, my 3 yr old is getting better, my 6 year old started running a fever today and the 8 yr old is fine so far.
Sigh... it'll be better soon :)
too true, viola. that's how i tell if someone 'new', that i don't know well yet is rrrrrrreally a gardener...if when taking the nickle tour of my garden (no matter how dressed-up they may be) they guiltily look around and cannot help themselves and bend over and pull a weed. makes me laugh every time. GRIN
- you get a renovation loan for1/3 the value of your newly purchased house and you re-do the landscaping before the kitchen, bathrooms, etc.
- during the wettest June in recorded history you leave the dinner table (at the sound of the garden timer) to go out into the pouring rain to move the hoses which are dripping water onto your new trees for 1 hour a day, each, and then update your watering chart before returning to your meal, and you continue this for a month.
-and when you cry because you finally have the dream garden you've always wanted with plants like Grandma had and all your other favorites, and each day begins and ends with a stroll to see how everyone is doing.
Ha! This is a great topic, loved reading it.
How about when the dh finds a job on the internet that he is interested in, but wants your input before he applies. You quickly spout off reasons it won't do- cost of living, too far from the family and friends, etc etc. Secretly, you knew that zone just would not mesh with your new garden plans.
You know... when you are sick with a fever, stopped up head, weak and feel like you have the flu. The neighbor calls and wants to return a dish and because you are feeling anti-social and not wanting company you meet her outside. While waiting for the neighbor in the 100 degree heat (with a fever) you notice weeds in the azaleas and start pulling them so intently that the neighbor startles you when she finally gets there!
You have a snake phobia and have learned how to kill them without having a panic attack because you know snakes are just part of being outside! (its actually quite a show according to my neighbors and family... I apparently look as if I am trying to kill a guerilla with the shovel instead of a 3 inch long snake! My mom called it comic relief!
when you read a message about someone killing snakes in their garden and then look at where they live to see if you might possibly be able to drive over and 'harvest' the snakes for your own garden (assuming they aren't poisonous of course).
I "picked" a particularly nice greenbean once. Turned out to be the tail end of a garter snake, who was not best pleased with my thoughts of snapping and canning, so s/he moved to safer haven in the watermelon patch.
I have never really been afraid of snakes (non poisonious ones) I could tell you stories about when I lived IN AL that would really freak you out. Copperheads in the house curled up next to the fridge for warmth just aren't cool
Me either... the worst part was, at the time my now ex and I raised red tailed boa constricters for sale. When I called the neighbor screaming that there was a snake my house... he said very calmly... "so?" I was like "no you don't understand its not MINE" he asked me if I had anything to kill it with... I said the only thing I have is my 9mm. Needless to say he was across the street in no time flat LOL
That was our first encounter with a copperhead... the 2nd time was like an episode of Keystone Kops... it was outside in the carport, and our gas hot water heater was in a cubby right next to the carport. The cops wanted to shoot the snake, right in the direction of the water heater!!! When they decided that was a bad idea, they went after it with a long squeegee type thing used to clean restaruant floors, had rubber on one side, and was hard on the other... well, AL cops... decided to use the RUBBER SIDE to pin it down ROFL Needless to say that didn't work very well, and pi$$ed the snake off pretty bad to boot. It started to chase one cop down hte gravel driveway... he tripped and broke his wrist so badly it needed pins in it, and someone cut the snakes head off with a shovel before it could get to him thank goodness. It was terrifying then, now I wish I had had a video camera.
What do you do when you'er sitting on the toilet contemplating your navel and just happen to notice that there is a young (18 or so inches) cotton mouth between you and the door? Once I got OUT of the bathroom with the little feller still trapped IN the bathroom, I had the time of my life watching two football team sized cops trying to do the little feller in. It took them 45 minutes, (I refused to allow them to shoot it because I didn't trust them to be able to shoot straight) the bathroom being all of 4x5 feet, and even after they were SURE it was dead, they were still terrified of it. I had to put it in a bag, tie the bag in the end of a long stick (their idea, not mine - I knew it was dead), take it out to their car and put it in the trunk! And when I say football team I'm talking about each one of them! Best laugh I'd had in awhile. I will admit, I looked before entering after that.
Oops didn't mean to change the subject to snakes but since we are there...
tgif... even better... sitting on the toilet contemplating my navel and looked directly pass my navel to see a small but ugly unnammed snake trying to fight his way out of the toilet bowl between my legs! Lesson learned... never sit on the toilet without first checking the contents of the bowl!
OK, now I can't garden or pee! I don't think I will be able to sleep either but I have a lot of admiration for you all who are so brave and have lived through the sn-a-key (we don't even say that word around here) incidents. Do you all live in the very deep woods, I hope?
Well, I had an encounter with a "harmless" garden snake. It was six feet long and black. Just came slithering up my driveway. Ever see a five foot tall woman jump on THE ROOF of her car in two seconds flat? My neighbors found this soooo amusing. So did my children. So much so that they decided to take a very realistic looking toy snake and put behind me while I was gardening. When I turned around and saw it, I leaped OVER the flower bed, which is, ooohhh about five feet wide.
This message was edited Jul 26, 2005 1:35 PM spelling errors...gosh I hate them.
Lambchop, the first copperhead was in a rural area... outside of Tuscaloosa Alabama.
The second one, the one in the carport, was in a town called Childersburgh, right in town. I guess its the dangers of living down south... I don't know. Here we are very rural, and when my neighbors across the street opened their shed last spring to get the lawn mowers and stuff out, there was a nest of baby copperheads. We live very close to a stream, so that is why they are there. We have to watch close, we have heavy undergrowth and a rock wall in our yard.
Its just a hazard of living in the country I guess... I coiuldn't stand to live in a town or city tho :)
Well, as long the topic of snakes has been raised, here is my snake story. It takes place in the most unlikely of places -- Manhattan!!
I lived at 7 Morton Street in Greenwich Village in NYC from about 1975 - 1983. On the nearby corner of Bleeker and Morton Streets was a pet store named "Exotic Aquatics." They sold not only fish, as the store name might suggest, but also birds, reptiles, and even a few mammals. They catered to the desires of clientele that wanted to bring some touch of the Amazon to their urban jungle apartments.
The store sold an assortment of non-poisonous snakes. The snakes were kept in individual small aquariums with a mesh screen cover and a weight on the top, usually a small rock. It was not the best method for housing snakes. The snakes could easily, when the whim struck, slither up the glass of the aquarium and push open the flimsy lid and escape.
One of the joys for me of living at 7 Morton Street was that my apartment was on the first floor at the rear of our building and had an old turn-of-the-century garden, complete with black slate paving and some raised concrete planters on each side of a fish pond with a nicely sculpted lion's head fountain in a tall brick arch at the back of the pond. The garden had been left to ruin for about 50 years, according to the building superintendant, Iona, a 70+ year spinster artist lady whom had lived in the first floor front apartment since the 1920's. She recalled when the current storefront location of "Exotic Aquatics" had a been a speakeasy where she had worked as the hat check girl during prohibition. One of Iona's most exciting memories had been accepting a hat to hold for Judy Garland when Ms. Garland paid a visit to the speakeasy. Iona was a quirky sort that wanted nothing to do with new fangled inventions. She had refused to allow her apartment to be converted to alternating current (AC) when the power company came around to make the change, which meant that she had to buy DC to AC adaptors for all her appliances. She made lovely ceramic pins that were fairly accurate copies of insects. She didn't see the need for any housework and had a theory that dust only accumulates to a certain point of critical mass, and then won't settle any further. Every flat surface in her apartment was therefore completely covered in about 3/4 inch of city soot and dust. Her own version of the particle theory may have been correct. I never saw the dust layer in her apartment go beyond this fossilizing level of sedimentation.
My first experience in gardening was a zealous effort to restore the garden at 7 Morton Street to its original beauty. This was a major undertaking, and an entire story in itself. Suffice it to say that after about a year of arduous effort, the cracks in the cement pond had been patched and the pond had been halted in a slow, eventual descent into the 7th Avenue subway tunnel that ran beneath it. The repaired pond held water sufficiently to have three gold fish swimming contentedly. Water once again flowed from the fountain in the lion's mouth, rebuilt by my reconstructive cement surgical attention, and splashed with calming delight into the pond. A collection of woodland wildflowers, ferns, and other shade loving plants grew in the planters -- the only thing that would grow in this garden that was basically at the bottom of a well surrounded by the neighboring five story buildings. The garden became an oasis of serenity in the Manhattan hubbub for all of the residents of the other 19 apartments in the building. I got to become close friends with most of the other tenants -- a rare experience for a Manhattanite. We were our own exotic collection of displaced creatures, taken from whatever had been our original environments around the U. S. and the world, and transplanted to Greenwich Village. The assortment of people included Betty Aberlin, better known as Princess Aberlin on "Mister Roger's Neighborhood." Betty was a gentle sprite, with a personality much like her character on the children's show. I would sometimes step out of my door on Easter Morning to find that Betty had left a clutch of painted Easter eggs at my doorstep. She had kind, but often slightly misguided intentions, which included bringing in homeless people from the street and letting them stay in her apartment. This was fine, but when she would then go out on theatrical tours outside of her day job for weeks at a time, her homeless friends would end up sleeping in our building vestibule. Most of us in the building would step over the temporary residents in acquiescent tolerance of Betty's generosity, while quietly thinking she was maybe a bit nuts. My friend, Tom, commented that Betty had spent just a little too much time talking to hand puppets. The shifting tide of occupants of 7 Morton included a host of other actors like Betty and myself (and waiter/waitresses that were actor wanna-bes), musicians, artists, and people with no visible means of support. One neighbor, Steve, was a mousy young guy that collected old films. All the residents of 7 Morton would sometimes gather for evening parties in the garden. Steve would bring down his old reel to reel equipment and project vintage films onto the walls of the garden. The whitewash I had added to the garden walls for greater light reflection, trying to eke out every photon from the once-a-day high noon rays directly overhead that were the only light that penetrated to the floor of the garden, served as a film screen. I saw "Casablanca" many times with a white brick underlay to Bergman and Bogart close-ups. Our mostly Italian, mostly mafioso neighbors in the surrounding buildings would set up chairs and lean out their windows to also enjoy the picture show.
The snakes of "Exotic Aquatics," perhaps sensing the garden as a nearby spot with water and an ample supply of food from the ubiquitous city rats-a-plenty, would frequently make a break from their cramped aquarium prisons in the pet store and follow a fast slithering path to the more natural surroundings of our backyard garden.
My first experience with a visiting snake was coming home one evening and, upon unlocking my apartment door and starting to push it open, felt a fleshy resistance. My first response was that someone had broken into my apartment, had heard me about to open the door, and was inside my apartment holding the door shut. This experience would not seem out of the ordinary. But then I looked down and saw a long, thin tail whipping around at my feet and projecting out from beneath the door. It looked like a snake's tail, but I couldn't imagine a snake being in Manhattan, so my mind raced with possible explanations, deciding that drug-induced hallucinations were the most likely cause for the demonic vision I saw near my toes. I finally found that I could open the door by pulling up on the weight of the door so that the squirming creature on the other side could get free. When I did this, I opened the door to find a snake streaming across my kitchen floor, looking for a hiding place. I managed to get around in front of the snake and with lots of quick steps and shouted whoops, jumping from foot to foot, much resembling the frenetic disco dancing popular in that era, I managed to corral the snake and send it back out my door, down the hallway and into the garden. I may be one of the few people ever achieving the seemingly impossible task of herding a snake, second only in difficulty to herding cats.
My next door neighbor, Isabelle, had the next close encounter of a reptilian kind. She was a Texas girl, not unfamiliar with snakes, but also not expecting to find them in Manhattan. She was in the big city to pursue a career as an interior designer. She was a big fan of Woody Allen and, when she learned he dropped into a local Jazz club in the Village to enjoy the music and join in the jam sessions, she semi-stalked him and sent him into a near panic one night by chasing him to his limo and trying to force him to accept a plate of brownies she had baked especially for him.
Isabelle had completely remodeled the apartment across the hall from me, replete with loft bed to add some more living space to the total 30 ft x 20 ft floor space we had in our studio apartments. She had, one evening, taken some chairs out to the garden to paint them in a color to match her decor, using the open air of the garden to allow the paint fumes to dissipate. She had left the door of the garden open, something we all did from time to time since the garden was completely walled on all sides and was not easily subject to intrusion by thieves and muggers. Stepping out from her apartment, on her way to retrieve her freshly painted chairs, she was confronted by a snake coiled up in the center of the hallway. Despite her former ranch life, she was understandably shocked and startled to find a snake hissing at her in this unlikely locale. The snake decided to go on the defensive and slid under the baseboard of the hallway where, despite Isabelle pounding on the baseboard with her shoe, it felt safe enough to wait out a time for a furtive escape.
Isabelle decided to report the intruder. Her first attempt was with the Manhattan Police Department. She called 911, and when asked what the emergency was, responded excitedly, "There's a snake in my apartment building!" The 911 Operator, suspecting the call was from one of the many insane denizens of NYC, a species as prevalent as the rats, came back with the reply, "Yeh, right, lady!," and hung up the phone with a quick click in order to handle the next lunatic with a real or imagined life-threatening situation. Isabelle went down the phone book list of every potential city agency that might be of assistance, only to find the same or similar reply from each of them. In a last ditch effort for someone to help her with the unwelcome snake visitation, she called Poison Control. To her surprise, this was the Manhattan agency officially charged with the duty of rounding up snakes. A Poison Control agent was dispatched to 7 Morton. He arrived with a rod with a plastic retractable loop on the end such as might be used to lasso a stray dog. With unimaginable apt, the agent coaxed the snake out from under the baseboard, captured it immediately with the noose, and walked away nonchalantly with barely a word to Isabelle, with the snake writhing from the end of the stick, as if snake capture was the most routine part of his job.
My next personal snake experience was even more dramatic. I came home early one sultry summer evening to find a huge semi-circle of people surrounding the front entrance of my apartment building. Standing in the middle of the semi-circle were two uniformed police officers, looking down at the ground. I assumed some criminal had been apprehended and the crowd had gathered to witness the take down, part of the usual entertainment, along with the tight-rope walkers, jugglers, magicians, and acrobats that could be found on most every street corner in Greenwich Village on a Friday night. Elbowing my way through the crowd, saying, "Excuse me, I live here. I want to get to my apartment," I finally arrived at the clearing in the middle of the semi-circled throng. There I saw a snake on the pavement, terrified, motionless, cornered by the crowd and the police officers. The police officers' guns were drawn and pointing at the snake. Apparently, they hadn't shot anything or anyone in the last 30 minutes and the snake was fair game for target practice.
Myself, being a peace-loving latter day Hippie and an altruistic type with a hero ideation complex and a Buddhist respect for all living things, upon realizing the plight of the helpless snake, I heard the words escape involuntarily from my mouth, "Don't shoot it! I'll capture it." A spontaneous, simultaneous audible gasp of surprise and awe went up from the gathered mass of curious bystanders.
It was only then that I realized what I had said and to what I had committed myself to doing. I had only once or twice in my life ever touched a snake -- a ring neck snake a classmate had captured on the way to school and the occasional living boa draped around the neck of a scantily clad Village character that enjoyed taking his constrictor for a walk through the streets. I was not sure if I was up to the task of grabbing a snake, but with so many people waiting expectantly for me to perform, there was no turning back. I inched slowly toward the snake, my right arm outstretched, my thumb and forefinger opened slightly to create the vise that would hopefully, luckily, snare the snake. Seeing my menacing approach, the snake made a sudden move to escape along the edge of the curb. In a lightning swift Zen-like thrust, I lurched forward and pinched the snake at an exact point at the base of its head, and secured it in my clutch.
A great shout of exalatation and applause went up from the crowd! I would have taken a few bows to show my appreciation, but the snake by this time had coiled its 3 foot length completely around my arm and I could feel its slightly slimy, rough scaled skin against my own. My public accolades mostly escaped my own notice. My trembling hands and thumping heart were sending enough adrenalin through my system to sustain my hold on the snake, but it so focused my awareness that only the sensation of snake-on-arm was within my conscious perception. These hormones overcame the more rational, squeamish neurons firing in my brain, which were silently shrieking, "Drop the snake!!"
The police officers dejectledly returned their guns to their holsters. I had clearly upstaged them in this improvised drama. One of them asked me, "Well, now what are you going to do with the snake?"
I fumbled for an answer, all my senses still focused on the alien thing wrapped around my arm. "I'll keep it in my apartment in an empty aquarium I have and return it to the pet store tomorrow," I said, recalling that I did indeed have an empty aquarium available that was the winter home for the goldfish from the pond.
The crowd dispersed, mummering their critiques of their recent street theater experience. I carried the snake, firmly encoiled at my wrist like a squirming bracelet, into my apartment building. I then encountered the first problem of dealing with the snake: how to get my apartment door keys out of my right pocket with my left hand so that I could retain my hold on the snake with my right hand. After some struggle, this was accomplished and the door was eventually opened with my left hand, which was totally unaccustomed to such assignments. I next had to deal with lifting the 30 gallon aquarium out of storage with one hand and turning it upside down on my apartment floor without breaking the glass. I didn't have any thing to place over the aquarium, so my thought was that the open end of the aquarium could rest on the floor and the snake would have its own glass house until the time "Exotic Aquatics" opened the next morning and I could return the snake to captivity. The one-armed aquarium flipping stunt achieved, the next ordeal was getting the snake off my arm to a spot in the middle of the floor under the aquarium while simultaneously dropping the aquarium over the snake before the snake could dart away.
I was not successful in this effort. When I released my hold on the snake, its own hormones gave it super-snake flight speed and it went zig-zagging wildly across the floor of my apartment. I then reenacted my tribal disco snake dance and leapt about my apartment, again with punctuated whoops, trying to cap the aquarium down over the snake, withouout breaking the glass nor crushing the snake in the process. The snake easily eluded me and found the hole in the floor at the spot where the steam pipe came up from the basement as its perfect escape hatch.
Although I was exhausted, emotionally, physically, and psychically, from the snake ordeal, I was not able to sleep much that night. I was, at that time, sleeping on a mattress on the floor of my apartment with no bed frame to give any distance between snake crawling space and bedding materials. I spent the entire night, one eye open, waiting to feel the snake return from the basement and seek revenge for its capture, irrespective of my saving it from a series of gunshot wounds to the head. Recalling a popular song from a few years earlier about a woman that took in an ailing snake and was then later bitten and killed by the same snake, I knew that these sometimes venomous creatures have a poor reputation for rewarding acts of kindness..
Fortunately, the snake chose to forgive and forget or experienced some other epiphany of insight that allowed it to leave me unmolested in my sleep. I suppose it soon found its way out into the welcoming sanctuary of the garden where it could share stories of its adventures with other ex-con snakes, gecko lizards, and the occasional hamster or chimp that broke free from "Exotic Aquatics."
And I also suppose the lesson from this is: If you plan a trip to Manhattan, be sure to pack your snake boots and a zip-up sleeping bag. In that city, you never know what might slither out under your feet or into your bed.
This is one I hope to some day do in woodburning to set up for viewing as guest arrive.
You are welcome here
Be at your ease
Get up when you're ready
Go to bed when you please
Happy to share with you
Such as we've got
The leaks in the roof
The soup in the pot
You don't have to to thank us
Or laugh at our jokes
Sit deep and come often
You're one of the folks
ooooppppssss wrong thread - but hope you enjoy anyway!
Jeremy, I loved your story - you are quite a writer! It was wonderful and hilarious, right up until the part about the police officers.
I have several police officers among my family and friends, and I was offended by your portrayal of police officers as gun-happy trigger-fingered idiots as you seem to see them. These men and women are brave, dedicated people who put their lives on the line for you and me every day - I know of no finer human beings!
The rest of the story was terrific - too bad you had to ruin it with your unfortunate dim view of our fine public servants in uniform. It just wasn't funny anymore after that.
Sorry, all, didn't mean to disrupt this happy thread, but I was unable to let it pass.
I too have p.o. friends but was not at all offended and my guess is they wouldn't be either. Most officers I know are human beings and not above a little laughter even at their own expense. Time to lighten up a little?
Sorry Cupoftea, and any others that may have taken offense at a perception of the police officers being trigger happy in my story. I certainly mean no disrepect to law enforcement officers. We all know and appreciate all that the NYC Police did after 9/11 and on a daily basis to make the city safe. My comment was intended not so much to defame the police, but to point out (albeit a stretch of the truth) the amount of crime that occurs in NYC at least every 30 minutes and how often the police might potentially need to use their weapons, but I can understand how you might see it the other way around. It is a statement of fact that their guns were drawn and they had a bead on the snake when I entered the scene.
Not to pull at your heart strings, but... my oldest brother that I much admired (more like a father to me than a brother because he was about 22 when I was about 6 yrs old), was a career cop, first in Jacksonville Beach, Florida, and then Chief of Police in Milton, WV. He was killed in the line of duty attempting to serve a warrant in about 1970. Somehow I think my brother Ray would have gotten a chuckle out of the cop story, but that I can't know for sure.
Maybe we should start a new thread for snake stories and let this thread return back to its original format, which I have greatly enjoyed?
Jeremy, this is so strange. My dad knew your brother and used to talk about him. What happened to your brother was Daddy's stock reason for why he thought the world was going to &^%$. I'm really sorry about your brother, it must have been very painful for your family.
I loved it, every minute of it! You are a great writer; you make it come alive for me! My uncle, Warren Abbey was a motorcycle cop in Jax. I remember when we went down there for his funeral, about 1970... Procession was sooo long, cop at every intersection blocking traffic. They were fantastic. I felt they honored their own so well.
Know you're a gardener, when you go to the dr and don't mention that you need to dig up some fruit trees, so he can't tell you not to do it, like he already told you no more watering from the rain barrel, since you already threw your back out... I'll have the girls help me... (Hopefully!) ~ Suzi ♥
Maybe I'm getting psychic in my old age, Rachel, but as I was typing my reply the thought occurred to me that someone reading these posts would have known my brother, Ray, or his story. We were originally from WV, back in the hills, but moved to Barboursville, just down the road from Milton. Ray and my second oldest brother married 2 sisters from Milton. That is the main reason why he eventually returned to Milton. He was a great hero for me and for a lot of other people. I'm glad your dad had the pleasure of knowing and remembering him.
And no need to recluse yourself, cupoftea. Your comment made me realize how powerful words can be and how the same words can have very different meanings for different ears. I've given much thought to your response and appreciate the honesty. It will serve as guidance in the future.
And I certainly have spent my time hiding amongst the Colocasias. and so, lets get back to plants... I've thought about hosting a "Biggest Ears" contest on DG (under a separate thread) to see who can provide a photo of the largest Elephant Ears (Colocasia esculenta). My C. esculenta this year have really outdone themselves -- about 9 ft tall with a stalk about 12 inches in circumference and leaves about 4 ft from tip to tip. Can anybody beat that?! If so, you win a free T-shirt with an image of elephant ears I painted a few years back that was the featured painting for a local art auction/fund raiser!
(I just spilled my glass of ice tea on the floor while typing this message. Fortunately, there was a stack of seed catalogs about 1 ft high accumulated from about 3 years back to sop up the spilled tea.)
You know you are a gardener when --- you save every seed catalog that comes in the mail and tell yourself you will get around to looking at them someday, but you never do because you are too busy gardening!
Ok, back on subject (since I was sorta the one that started the thread hi jack... sorry)
You know your a gardener when...
You are carrying 2 hanging baskets across the yard to the other side of the yard, slip stepping up over the curb, fall into the concrete steps going to your front door, spill one hanging basket (holding the ONLY Gray Lady morning glory seedling that germinated) your fist thought is, boy I hope no one saw that, your second thought a split second behind that is OMG my gray lady.. and start to uncover it, and the next thought a split second after the second is OMG that hurts!!!!! I ended up the the ER, getting X Rays of my left arm and ankle. Nothing is broken (although I really thought my arm was) but I"m turning very pretty colors, and had to have a tetanus shot. OUCH
Although I guess if I was relly a true gardener, my first thought would have been for the plant and the second if anyone had seen me LOL
The MG is repotted and still alive, keep your fingers crossed for him :)
I'm lucky that there were no police around...it was stupid to do, I must admit, and very dangerous. If one of my boys, they also had liciences, ever did that I would have grounded them. Oh, just a wayward mother...
Hey, Woofens. Sorry about your fall! I am sending positive thoughts of healing for both you and your morning glory! I've been known to perform miracles of healing with plants (or so I thought), but I've not quite mastered the same curative touch for humans. Somehow I don't think my special brew of compost tea and copper sulfate would help your injuries. lol
I didn't picture you on a motorcycle either... our preconceived ideas get in the way. Not like with plants, you can look in the plant files or google them to see them instantly. I always had lots of bungee cords to hook my stuff on... ~ Suzi ♥
Yep, that's me with the do-rag...I really wear one...it's something I just kept from being a chef...always had one on in the "Kitchen". Don't wear gloves...I'm too tough.. hehe Not true, just like to feel God's earth between my fingers...it's theraputic.
Briar...yep, rode well over 100,000 miles in my time. Had my own and went everywhere in town. For traveling I was with my ex. We toured all over the NE and into Canada, even had a trailer.
I was a sight. I had blond hair in a braid down my back to my knees, a fringed deerskin jacket, (cowboy style) cowboy boots, leather pants, a helmut I painted to look like a floresent Foo dog AND I SMOKED CIGARS... This whole package was 106 lbs and 5' tall. I answered to, The Big Mamu"...AHHHHHHHHHHh those were the days. I was the favorite mom on the block for I was the only one that could take the teenage boys for the MC licence exams. They also liked my bike because it was small and it was easier for them to pass the road test.
Thanks for bring back some great memories..
I theatened my daughter a couple of months ago about getting another bike...(I was half serious) and she threatened to have me committed.
Hap, please be very careful. I just heard this morning a pastor friend of mine was killed on his motorcycle,yesterday. He was a contradiction of sorts too. Turned his life over to the Lord, he was about 60. Don't take big chances!
Sorry to spoil the mood.
Oh, I gave up the bike when I moved to FL, 20 years ago. Now the only time I ride is when I hitch one from my son. He says he keeps it under 100, and I believe him...LOL (How can I complain, he's just like me!!!)
I wear a do -rag 90% of the time too... my first memory is sitting on the gas tank of my "Dad's" bike (he adopted me when I was 3, but we didn't have a good relationship when I was growing up or as an adult, hard still to call him dad) back to the memory... he and my mom both worked at the time, and I was left with a babysitter ... mom and dad would come get me on the bike, I was3... dad drove, mom rode behind him and I sat on the gas tank. A back injury in 95 has kept me off them for the most part since. In the past 5 years I've been able to ride a little and can ride 4 wheelers, so I could probably handle a bike again, but the last time I rode, I had to be lifted off the bike in tears... I don't want that to happen again :)
uh, me too. had a triumph bonneville bored to 650cc with a fast clutch, then a harley sportster, old one at 800cc. both kick starts. me at 16, 5'9",110 pounds, hair to my knees. a wonder i didn't blow off the thangs LOL.
but that was when i was young and immortal.
*singing "aaah don't want a pickle, i just wanna ride my moooooootersickle" by arlo guthrie*
you guys rock. i am beside myself with happiness to have found a place with garden maniacs AND women like this! thanks for posting...you made my day!
Never had a bike of my own, was content to ride but I love em. My littlest is 3, he has a motorized 3 wheeled Harley... made by little tykes i think.. he is outgrowing it, but I saw an Indian for kids up to 55 pounds the other day.. like 80 bucks, motorized... forward and reverse...trike also... I know what he is gettin for christmas :)
momof2d, Jeremy and all the rest . This has been wonderful , funny and delightful. I hope it goes on. so many of them sounded to much like rear life and that is what has
made them so funny.
You know you are when in Jan. you are planting bulbs in the rain and cold because the garden club has put your yard on tour in May and the spring bulbs will be gone but
someone might come by to see your yard early.
Hap - I'd have found a way! Bought 4 full bags of groceries and a large bag of taters at HEB in TX once, forgot I was on the bike... LOL Thank goodness for bungees!
I only had a Hondamatic 400, so in a way, I guess you'd think I was cheating LOL. Decided other day, I'm not getting any more standard vehicles after this one croaks too. And, IF I ever get another bike, I think maybe it will have to be a trike. With my knee (mostly past) and back probs (both past and present) I cannot safely handle a bike any more.
Have driven cars/trucks over half million miles, both here and overseas. But, not too many on the bike. Lived in TX; drove it around TX mostly; took it to Ohio and back once. Sold it to finance my trip to Korea after then spouse got trf there in 82. Kept the license, but never bought another.
As for memories... a few come to mind: my accident on Good Friday 2001 (only 1 stitch, but w/ helmet I would have been dead!); his "hit and run" when someone hit him 3 days later, the day after Easter (2 stitches and scared the heck out of me); having to FedEx a valve from Warehouse #6 in NJ to me in OH, only place they could get it for my bike; and the trip to Ohio that was supposed to "save" money. Ended up costing 5 nights in hotels, a slip on oil with my forearm landing on his muffler, lots of pain, etc... Hmmm Thought these were supposed to be happy memories! Well, I survived it... lol, and survived him too... LOL ~ Suzi ♥
Before you throw things away you ask "could I use this for something in the gardening arena?" as DH looks on with a scared look in his eye. I am after all the same wife of his who saves 2 liter soda bottles to cut down into pots (the drainage holes I poke in with a woodburning tool...my husband shudders) I drink a lot of diet coke (about a 2 liter every 2 days) so I've made many pots for the ever growing number of plants I start and have waiting.
Throw Away #2
My youngest is out of diapers (as of June!!!!!!! YEA!!!!!!) and we have a baby wipes warmer (my son was always getting horrible diaper rash so having the wipes warm helped in the comfort area, it wasn't just a needless luxury) whose lid hinges are busted. I'm sure someone else would toss it for sure and just buy a new one for the next baby to join the family. Rather than toss it I had a brain storm. Hmmmmm, the wipes were always just nicely warm, not hot, hmmmmm, I bet I could use this as a nice little seed germinator since I am trying to start just a few perennial seeds at a time rather than a whole greenhouse full.
As a wipes warmer it was always plugged in and never overheated even though it was on 24/7. Filled it 1/2 full with peat moss, moistened it up and popped in some seeds. Plugged it in on my kitchen counter top so I could always keep an eye on it and it works like a charm! Even better I found a little rectangle plastic container that fits in perfect so I could pull this in and out to water and allow the water to drainout.
Edited to add:
The busted hinges on the lid just make it so I have to lay the top on rather than have it lift up...the lid has to be used though to keep things warm and humid.
Hey, Garity. How much does a baby wipes warmer cost? I noticed in another thread that people mentioned seed tray warmers cost $25 - $30. If a baby wipes warmer is cheaper than that, you may have found a cheap alternative to post in the "Dirt Cheap" forum (another of my favorite forums!)
You know you are a gardener when... seeing that the city is trimming back the Bradford Pear trees on your street and shredding them as they go... you make 3 different trips out to the road looking for the supervisor to beg for the chippings. I still am not sure if I am getting a load but I am keeping my fingers crossed. It was a good sign when the supervisor walked with me to see where they could dump it. (right off the road, plenty of room to turn around...why wouldn't they dump it there right?)
Hey, Kerry. I did the same thing when my neighbor hired a tree company to remove about 30 oaks from their property (at a major expense, I'm certain!!). The tree company was shredding them at the curb side in one of their huge shredding machines. They were very happy to drive only about 20 ft to dump the mulch instead of having to drive about 30 miles to pay to dump it at our city compost facility. My resulting problem was the only place I had for the dump truck to unload was in my driveway. It took me about 2 months to find time to move the huge hill of mulch before I could get our vehicles off the road at curbside and back into safer parking in the driveway!
By the way, some folks caution that care should be taken in using mulch from chopped up trees. The trees might be diseased (and that is the reason they are being cut down) and the mulch may carry the disease to your trees. In the case of my truck load of mulch, the neighbors were over reacting (I think) to a situation where on of their trees dropped a limb on a neighbor's garage and they had to pay an insurance settlement. All the trees that came down were healthy, just part of the slaughter from fear of what damage the other trees might do to raise insurance rates. I bemoaned the loss of the life of the trees, but was happy for all the additional sunlight it let into my yard.
Jax - I did think of the disease aspect. These are pear trees that have been overgrown and needed cutting back for some time. Just about every time a large, overloaded truck would come through town a branch would get knocked off and traffic would be diverted till someone with a chainsaw stopped and dealt with it. I don't have any fruit trees and what I do have is in containers and won't be getting the mulch so I felt safe.
A baby wipes warmer will cost between $14-30 but only warm a very small size (about 5x8in). A good buy for a garage sale find though! If you buy a tray warmer it is much more cost efficient because of the larger size of course and the tray/pots can overlap the sides vs this which has to have the stuff fit inside of its cavity.
You know you are a gardener when...You get excited to hear that your friends are moving (even though you will miss them) because just maybe they will let you dig up some of their plants before they will sell their home. ("Oh Becky, I'm so sad you are moving...Could I have your Peony 'Kansas' to add to my garden as a memento?")
Despite being exhausted and sore and near blind from planting by floodlight, you still have to pull the Can-O-Worms out of the foo-foo garden tub and scrub the tub to be able to soak your tired bones .
After a haircut you ask your stylist for not only your own hair for the compost pile but for anyone else's they can spare.
You're late for a pedicure (from the garden of course) but freshly showered and the woman blanches at the site of your feet as you pull them out of your flip-flops. Dirt stuck to the underside of the straps leaves strips that she feels compelled to clean off with alcohol- as the water in the tub darkens. Amazing how much dirt those things will hold!
After leaving for work at a dark 6 30 in the morning and coming home at equally dark 5:30 in the evening, you go out with a flash light to look at the pansies that are in bloom before you feed you spouse and children supper. I remain uncontrite about it.
You know you are a gardener when you have 16 women coming for BUNCO and it is 100 degrees outside and you are out there pulling weeds so the garden will look good and you should be cleaning the house.
You know you are a gardener when you look down at your feet and see little upside down Vs that are white where your sandals were. You look up a little higher and you see where the end of you boots were from spring and being outside in shorts and boots. Then you look at your hands and realize they are tan to the wrist where your regular gardening gloves leave off and then there is another tan line from where your rose pruning gloves left off. This does not include assorted tan lines from sleeveless and short sleaved shirts or the tan lines from weeding in your bathing suit as well as assorted shorts lengths. My husband took a look at me and asked me if maybe I shouldn't get some of that bottled tan stuff to blend in all the different tan lines. Silly him... I tried that one year and ended up orange like an oompa loompa from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.
You know you're a gardener when ... you could easily pot up a small plant from the dirt in the tub after a shower. DH actually asked me if I had always been a "mud puddle" and we've been married 30 years. He has suggested that perhaps I should use the hose and wash off some outside - I DID!!!
You know you are a gardener when 20 bags of dyed mulch are delivered and spread around and you realize there is only one thing to do... get the shop vac and suck it all up lest the chemicals in it leach out and damage your little pretties. The neighbors already think I've lost it so no biggie. I can't wait for school to start to get reports from my kids as to what the parents of their friends thought of me shop vaccing a huge planting bed for most of the day. The mulch was just put down yesterday. Easy come, easy go but it did look really nice and crisp for about 24 hours.
Your husband reports a two inch thick brown snake in the brush pile and suggests disposing of the pile. And you say, no, I really wanted to chip that pile for mulch, I bet if we google the snake we'll find its not venomous.
The hurricane that they said was not going to be bad, turns ugly about 8pm, so in the dark you start pulling the hurricane shutters close...BUT you can't do some shutters because you might BRAKE OFF SOME COLEUS IN TRYING... so those were left open.!!!! LOL
LOL Hap! I'm sure a lot of people don't understand the Coleus passion unless they've read the Forum! I was holding my breath until you reported. Apparently the record breaker came through undamaged! Hooray!
Thanks guys...beautiful morning here. Heart aches for the gulf coast. Katrina did terrible things during the night. It's terrible that it has so far to go and so much time to make it a cat 5. Dear oh dear oh dear...prayers and prayers and prayers...
I was outside pretty much all morning weeding. I don't watch tv but when I came in the tv was on and I got a look at the size of Katrina and I must admit that sent shivers down my spine. I seriously don't think I could live in any area that was prone to hurricanes particularly if it was below sea level. We have enough issues with tornadoes but we never experience the loss of life associated with hurricanes. My heart goes out to all of you who have had to evacute your homes.
Hello all, pretty much spent all day reading this thread. I'm a new, or maybe relapsed, gardener. I've lived in a cave like apartment for three years with my houseplants slowly dying or just not doing anything. I went to UK this January for 45 days and to try to make care of the house as easy as possible (two cats, and a dozen plants) I put all of the plants on the porch, with instructions to bring them in if it snowed, and to water them. We had weeks of snow in the UK, but record "hot" and dry weather here, my plants were sprouting new leaves when I got back in March. Which they haven't done since I moved here. Then I collected a few more plants, got a table, planted some of onions I got from the farmers market. I realized I could have a container garden on my porch (6 ft x 15 ft, well wind shielded, SS to FS) so I've been planning my garden for the last couple weeks. Looking for plant information is how I found this site. I've loved all of the stories and jokes made at ones own expense. So, here are a few of my own.
You know you're planning a garden when...
At school: Someone asks if you lost your keys because you've been walking around the planters looking at plants for the last half-an-hour (benefit of the college planters is that many of the plants have signs with common name and scientific name. They are also set up in themes like bug resistant, low water use, native plants, reclaiming ivy ground, etc...)
On the bus: You watch for signs for new construction site so you can morally dig up whole plants.
You have a fiction book that you've been reading for two weeks, but you've finished three books on gardening in the same time period.
You have set-up an excel file with common name, Latin name, picture, max height, light, soil, water, propagation, and notes information on all the plants you are interested in (I currently have 71, and had to create a twin of the file without pictures so I could sort by different categories)
You start ordering books from interlibrary loan, because your library doesn't have the books you need.
Without money: You start pulling things out of your closet that you knew you'd find a use for because they'd be perfect to put plants on. (cast iron bases for glass bowls I broke and milk crates)
Without money: You remember that you kept seeing discarded containers somewhere, remember where and bring them home.
Without money: You start asking friends, family and co-workers if they have any plants they'd be interested in getting rid of.
You start looking at recipes with an eye for what could be grown in your garden.
That's probably enough for now, I'm sure I'll come up with more later. :0)
Well hello Zhinu! Welcome to Daves Garden! Oy yeah, you've got the bug alright! The DG bug (Daves Garden) and the 'you know your'e a gardener when' bug!
I found this site the same way you did, and I'm a daily visitor, I dont always post daily but I'm here daily --- usually before work and again before going to sleep at night, if we were allowed to visit sites at work I'd be coming here during work hours too!
I've been a member since November of 2004 and there is so much to learn from this site, any time you have a question most gardeners are happy to help.
Have you checked out the 'extras' tab off off the main home tab? There are recipes there as well as other things.
The 'D' abbreviations... I use 'DH' alot for 'dear hubby' , DS/DD ...son and daughter. I think there is a list on-line somewhere I'll see if I can find it for you.
You know your'e a gardener when...there is a TV show on that you really want to watch but you see some of your plants saying...help me,help me! So instead of flopping your rear down on the couch you run around and care for the plants!
By the way, I can totally understand the 'with out money' thing, DH is disabled so we do without many things, I have alot of plant wants,wants,wants...but I dont always get,get,get! LOL! So Daves Garden is the perfect place to trade seeds,plants,ect. I've sent and recieved seeds and I even sent some dug up horseradish to a member, it made it fine.
Enjoy DG! I gotta get ready for work! I refuse to let DG keep me from a shower! My co-workers will thank me! LOL! Jill
momof2d - Thank you, I haven't looked at much besides the forums and PlantFiles, I'll get around to it eventually.
I work at the Periodical help desk at Evergreen College (where I'm a student). The only rules we have, are do your work first, more or less stay at the desk, and stay awake (harder than anyone who has not had a job like this will believe). It's slow at nights, generally, and it's slow during the summer, and right now I'm working summer nights, so it can be very slow. I read most of the thread at work today.
I've actually already gotten a lot of help on the forums. Everyone has been really nice.
you'll love it here, great folks and lotsa help for ya!
you might also like to check out the 'dirt cheap' thread...we are ALL cheap LOLOLOL. i'm disabled now and live on about $500 a month, much like being a student again LOL. i went this past spring up the creek and 'liberated' about 100 ferns for my pondside project...flipflops, 5 gallon bucket, and a shovel.
I am looking at trying to introduce shade loving plants into the house. I also will have an extra room in October (my older brother/room mate graduated and is moving to Seattle to do his Masters) so I'll have a room with a window that I can leave the curtains open.
My porch is coming along, I added a neglected Ficus and rubber plant yesterday. There are pictures of them on my container garden thread (link above) I've also collected three plants for my mother. She went back to school at the local Community College about three years ago and took all the low level horticulture classes (plant care, propagation, landscaping etc.) and art classes. If she wanted to take a math class she could get her AA. I'm trying to convince her to go for her B.A. at Evergreen (where I go). Evergreen has several horticulture professors, an organic farm, a lot of interest in native plant landscaping and sustainable farming, and natural medicine. So she get all the problem plants I rescue.
I'm going to start collecting native seeds next week. I also hope to get my repotting done in the next couple weeks. I have some plants that were intended as indoor only plants, and therefore planted in no drainage pots (which I never liked, but could deal with, when they were indoor only plants) though some of them will come inside as fall comes on, due to not being hardy in our winters, the rainy season should hit before that and I don't want them to rot. I have a month off to work on this stuff starting Thursday and I am so looking forward to it. I also hope to make hand thrown pots while I'm off (my grandmother has a wheel and kiln).
and back to the topic...You know your a gardener when...
you get off the bus three stops early because you just have to know what that plant is.
you carry water up stairs from the bathroom in a gallon jug, because the water is turned off on your level and you know no one is watering the plants, even though you don't know who the plants belong to. (I’ve already rescued the ones that I knew who they belonged to, that where I got the Ficus and Rubber plant.)
when...you water a plant in a vacated office in your company's headquarter's building in Miami when you are there for training because it is dying. (I'm sure my generosity helped it die a week later than it would have without me. lol)
Please take a look at my thread Organizations trying to help in the aftermath of Katrina http://davesgarden.com/forums/t/541779/ Help if you can, pass the information on to anyone else who may help, Thank you. I'm trying to make sure as many people as possible see this, so I'm posting the link to the threads I'm watching. Sorry if you get to see it several time.
you make yourself take a break from all the katrina work online and walk out to your plot in the community garden...because you know it will rest and lift you just to be among the plants and smell the soil...
and there you sit, with the last of the peppers in your lap...holding your head in both hands, weeping. for all the DGers (who you hardly know yet) who have no garden. who have no home. who have lost family or friends or both. whose pets are gone. who will be so busy just surviving for gawd knows how long now that won't even be able to plan a garden over winter or spare the labor and money to garden come spring...
and here you sit, like a fool, weeping and 'sending' them all your garden...wishing to wrap them in the smell and the green and keep them safe and in hope of another garden of their own... soon soon soon.
oh let them all have the comfort of a garden again. and until then, sharing mine, in *spirit*.
We all need someway to unload all of the grief that we have at this time. All of us who can only sympathize and try to help, and those that are there now. May everyone find a "garden" of their own in this time of grief and recovery.
So, I forced myself to go to Bumpershoot (Seattle's music and art festival), the first time I've been, because I've been depressed this week, no one I directly know was hit by Katrina, but I'm bi-polar, was going into a depressive phase to begin with and Katrina hasn't helped. Sometimes just doing something helps.
So, you know you're a gardener when you go to Bumpershoot and...
come back with pictures of plants you want identified.
regret that you don't have something to collect seeds in, because no one would miss a couple berries or seed heads, and they have several plants you want.
I really liked the gardens there, most of the plants under 10 feet I like, many of them I want for my garden. The seeds I would have grabbed were the ones for the plants I wanted identified (can see here http://davesgarden.com/forums/t/542565/ ), inkberry, and orange honeysuckle (both at the right time to harvest, they are native here, but I haven't found a wild source). They also had mondo grass, iris (I'm assuming the native ones, but I'm not sure which one), and wild strawberries that I couldn't harvest but want. Then there was a couple of roses, and some nice shrubs that I didn't know what were, but weren't right for my garden. I know there were other things, but that's what I can remember. The only issue I had with their garden, was that is had bark mulch, which I hate, but I think they might be working on growing the strawberries and other ground cover to the point it will cover the bare ground, but just isn't there yet.
y'all are making me cry again. it is such a gift to be understood. this place and the people in it are a rare comfort.
ok. allright. now...let's see what else we can do to help our 'washed out' friends down south! the plant fairies team thread will have em all up to their wheelbarrows in replacement plants come spring LOL, the Dmailers are about halfway home finding everyone (at day 8), our bean counters))) have a reporting and tracking system up and running for needs assessment and co ordination, we have a pile-o-Hbuddies waiting, and...what did i miss?
you've saved 8 years of plant, bulb and seed catalogs, at an estimated count of 25 a year because an item might not be available in the following catalog and you might need to have the name of it.
your friend who couldn't care less about gardening just get "the look" on their faces when you innocently mention wanting to stop by the nursery for a minute;).
when you make excuses for purchases even when no one has questioned you about the purchase.
when you sit on the hot sidewalk in 95 degree heat with a paper plate and tweezers harvesting tiny little flower seeds from a moss rose plant when you can buy new seed in the spring for 99 cents a package.
when you read all 300 posts on the addiction thread and spent two thirds of the time nodding in agreement.
After a brush with a hurricane, all you can think about as you drive down the road is how you can pick up all the great pine straw and leaves that are all over the place to use as mulch or to add to your compost pile!
when you are driving down the highway past a farm and say "look at all that beautiful dirt" or when the smell of manure hits the air and your children say "yuk, what is that smell?" and you simultaneously say "ahhhhh...someone is composting...maybe they'll let me have some!"
...you pick through the trash bag in the florist section of your grocery store to find some rose stems or other plant stems you can propagate... (guilty as charged LOL - I'm hoping the grocery store manager frequently reviews the security tapes and sees the strange man culling the floral trash to satisfy his desperate need for plants in a depressed economy).
I've actually considered going to the local florist shops and asking them to save their trash for me to pick up. I'm not always successful with getting rose stems to root, but one out of a dozen is one more rose, and the rose plant is usually a nice cultivar since it is intended for the florist trade. One success I had was rooting a broken stem from 'Essence of Truth' rose. It is growing well, but hasn't flowered for me yet.
I have not yet eradicated all the air potatoes (Dioscorea bulberifera http://davesgarden.com/guides/pf/go/32235/ ) from my yard. They were here when I bought the house and have remained as entrenched invaders. Once established, they are very difficult to eliminate because any part of the root will grow a new vine and the "air potatoes" will root wherever they fall.
I haven't heard of any burning of the vines. Our weather has been so dry here this spring that I would be surprised if any controlled burns were occurring, but I don't watch the TV news much (too busy keeping up with the "recent developments" in my garden. LOL).