Categories
Plants

Adventures in house plants

I didn’t know this, but I have green fingers. I knew I had a green thumb, but not green fingers. It could be worse – I could have green ears or green toes. Or even green eggs and ham.

For all that I can be a klutz on many things, I’m actually quite good with plants. I lived on a farm until I was seven, and then puttered in gardens whenever I’ve lived in houses since. As for indoor plants, years ago I had a house full of them, including an elephant ear that grew to enormous size.

I moved around quite a bit, and would carry my collection of plants from place to place. There was a couple of ferns, and several varieties of ivy and shamrocks and jade plants. I also had African violets, coleus, and schefflera and philodendrons – I must have had ten or so philodendron plants. When I moved down to Arizona, we didn’t have room for all the plants in the moving truck; when my Dad came for a visit, he loaded them all into his Ranchero and dragged them down. Of course he got stopped at the border – bringing plants into Arizona or California is a big no-no. However, he managed to talk the inspector into letting him keep the plants.

I hauled them around Seattle and to Yakima; from Yakima to Arizona, and back to Yakima. From there to Ellensburg and on to Seattle and Oregon and then over to Vermont. But when we moved from Vermont, we had a garage sale and I lined all the plants up with a sign saying, ‘Free to good home”. There was a woman who loved plants and solemnly promised to care for them, and you could tell she would because of the way she started talking to the plants immediately. She hesitated with the elephant ear, though; uttering a faint, “My”, when she saw it, but gamely said she would give it a go.

We had to find a new home for the plants because Zoe is a greens eater and will nibble any plant until it dies. Doesn’t matter if I haul in greens for her to eat, she wants the plants. No matter how hard we would try to keep her from them, she’d find a way to jump over barriers, or crawl under gates, and climb poles. Now, I can’t have bouquets of flowers or potted plants, and I put my life in my hands bringing in corn that’s still on the cob – corn husk is her favorite green.

I could let Zoe outside to ‘graze’, but we also feed birds and bunnies, and there seems to be something a little obscene about using natural ground feeding techniques for critters and having an outdoor kitty.

Cats and plants do so well together outside, but can do so poorly when both are trapped indoors. When I was in college, the person who lived behind us also had house plants and a sweet little white kitty he adopted. One day, he was late getting home and since he would keep her inside during the day and didn’t provide a cat box (and they say animals are dumb), she made a running jump and caught on to the macrame plant hanger for one of his plants, climbed into the pot and used the dirt as her potty. He wasn’t happy about the mess, but I was rather impressed with that cat myself – only female cats will do this, males will use any old spot in a pinch.

When I still had my plants, I had quite the assortment of plant care tools, including a device with long prongs that you put into the soil and will emit a sound reflecting the condition and amount of moisture in the soil. My ex-husband hated the thing because when the soil was not in great shape – too dry, or too acidic– it would emit a loud, screeching sound. He said it sounded like we were murdering the cat along with the plant.

I wasn’t much of a plant talker except with the Elephant Ears, and that was mainly curses trying to move the thing. I think my secret to their good health was the fact that I didn’t water too much or too little, used good potting soil, made sure they had good drainage and the appropriate light for the plant. Oh, I also followed their social habit.

I believe that some plants like to be alone, and others want to be in a crowd; I put the plants that were loners into their own corners or space, and the crowd lovers I would group together until they were almost touching. My ferns liked company, but my Christmas cactus did not. My elephant ears liked company, but it was so big it intimidated the other plants and had to go into a corner by itself. I did have other plants in the room, and since it thrived no matter I tried to do to it, it must have been content.

In addition to the balcony garden I hope to have this coming Spring, I think about getting another indoor plant for my desk – a cacti, which could hold its own against Zoe.

Loren posted a lovely poem by Roethke called “The Geranium”:


The things she endured!–
The dumb dames shrieking half the night
Or the two of us, alone, both seedy,
Me breathing booze at her,
She leaning out of her pot toward the window.

Categories
Healthcare

I prescribe a walk

I found a St. Louis community clinic system to see a doctor about the headaches and associated side-effects with my head. The one clinic is booked until next month, but another is free this week, but then you have to show proof of funding.

I’m not unemployed technically because I’m self-employed, though this is a bit of a joke at times (“What’s the difference being self-employed and being unemployed?” “There’s hope for gainful employment when you’re unemployed.”), so the form B201 I would need to get from the overworked unemployment office doesn’t work for me, and it will probably take me a month to get it, anyway. I guess I’ll bring my tax return for last year, except then I had unemployment insurance payments, and this year I don’t, and they’ll charge me accordingly.

The easiest thing to do, I’ve decided, is just spend the rest of the month hiking, and enjoying the start of the Fall color season; write about it here, maybe post the photos, and just ignore the whole thing.

Categories
RDF

Collection of RDF Vocabularies

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Someone posted a link to another page where a person was collecting sources of RDF vocabulary data, such as FOAF and DOAP and so on. It rolled by on Planet RDF, but now I can’t find it and I can’t remember who posted the original note. Both RSS and my memory are transitory.

If someone has a link to this site, can you please leave me a note in comments?

I took a chance and searched on FOAF and DOAP and found it.

Categories
Photography Places

Looking for Fall Along Route 66

I had the nicest note today from Mike Rodriquez saying, “…partially thanks to you (your wonderful writings about the river and the countryside surrounding SL) we’re moving back to our childhood home in Lindsborg, KS.”

My first reaction on reading this was, “Wow!” followed by a particularly warm and fuzzy feeling followed not too long after with another “Wow” and then a more thoughtful, “Boy, I sure hope they don’t get hit by a tornado”.

Tornadoes, heat, astonishing political dichotomy, and the ever present bugs that see me as a walking buffet aside, on days like today I renew my love of this land, even though the humidity was enough to drench me within a half mile starting my hike. I can only nod when Mike talks about moving back to Kansas because I remember walking steep rocky trails overlooking one river one day; an old country road surrounded by flowers against the backdrop of yet another river the next–all within 25 minutes of my home– and think how can anyone not want to live here?

How many places can you walk the same trail, over and over, and still feel as if it’s bright and shiny new: one time small pink flowers grow out of short dark green depths; another, tall golden brown weeds form a mosaic of gleaming color against rich yellow and light green.

This week when I walked Powder, new small white flowers carpeted the forest floor and I felt like calling out, “Don’t you ever get tired of growing?” But that would only startle the fawns that have now become so used to me (or people really, but I like to think it’s me, personally) that they quietly graze by the side of the trail only a few feet away.

I hadn’t been to the Route 66 State Park since Spring because normally it can be quite warm in the summer, and since horses are allowed on the paths, it can also be a little odorous at times. But it’s also a good place to check for the beginnings of fall color in this part of the state (though a more accurate check requires a trip further north).

I had the park almost to myself, and when I started across the old Route 66 bridge, I decided just to stop, right there on the bridge, and take some photos. I’ve been wanting to try out my fisheye lens of the river and surrounding hills; normally a fisheye distorts an image too much, but this time, I think it worked nicely, capturing what I see every time I cross this old, rusted bridge.

There’s a specific path I walk when I go to Route 66, but I thought since I had the place more or less to myself (though stopping on a bridge to take photos isn’t the best of ideas in these times) I thought I would explore the back roads from the car, and then stop and hike wherever the mood hit. I’m glad I did or I wouldn’t have found this marshy pond not to far from the river. In the pond was a marsh bird, fishing for frogs and small fish.

When I parked the car to put on my telephoto lens, the bird hid behind the weeds, peeking out at me, coyly, as if it were playing a game of hide and seek. I just sat there in the car, camera pointed out the window, and soon enough the bird cautiously stepped out behind the weeds and resumed it’s hunting–giving me a chance to get a better picture than I normally can.

Are you ready to move here, yet?

Loren wrote about his trevails with technology today and I felt for him–good technology done badly is the craft of the devil. But when he wrote about walking to St. Louis to deliver something to me and it being probably faster than dealing with a rigidly uncompromising system, I thought there could be worse places to walk to, or around.

I ended up taking my usual walk, a circular route that goes from parking lot to river and back, past open meadow and closed forest. There was a group of deer along the way, but they’re shy unlike the ones at Powder and ran as soon as I got close. There’s one spot where I can climb down the hill to the water along a loose limestone and rock trail. The path was badly overgrown and I couldn’t safely make it all the way down the hill, even with my hiking stick. But it was nice to be clambering around a hillside on loose rock, feeling the challenge on muscles and balance.

You can lose yourself when hiking hills, though as Kierkegaard found, no one may notice:

The greatest hazard of all, losing the self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all. No other loss can occur so quietly; any other loss–an arm, a leg, five dollars, a wife, etc.–is sure to be noticed.

Categories
Political

While you were cowering in fear: part 1

Warning: this political message contains no reference to Vietnam, lies, lies about lies, boats, planes, or typeface. It has not been screened by webloggers for accuracy, nor has it been endorsed by any political pundit currently appearing on the Technorati Top 100. View at your own risk.

Because agricultural inspection has been folded, along with most other domestic inspection services, into Homeland Security, there is now a shortage of inspectors, leading to the very real threat of the spread of disease that can destroy crops, contaminate livestock, and kill people:

The government has reduced the number of soldiers in the nation’s long-running battle against dangerous pests and food-borne diseases, as it focuses on stopping terrorists.

Recent discoveries demonstrate the unremitting threats: European cherries infested with insect eggs; fertilizer from Canada with ground-up cattle parts; grapevines hidden in a false-bottom suitcase; raw chicken parts arriving from a country inflicted with avian influenza; plants bagged with dirt containing unknown organisms; and even whole legs of cattle stuffed into a huge suitcase.

The problem in the Department of Homeland Security is both numbers and attitude, inspectors say. With fewer trained eyes, more pests and diseases are bound to enter via passengers and cargo.

Customs and immigration officers taking up the slack in screening are law enforcement officers, not biologists. They’re trained to intercept suspicious people and drugs, not suspicious bugs, and many of them view the agriculture specialists and their mission with disdain.

The number of people killed by terrorists annually is estimated to be about 600 people. The World Health Organization states that two million children die because of food and water contamination yearly. It also states that one out of three people suffer some form of foodborne disease annually.

Recently, uninspected seeds were released into the United States that could have contained disease that may have wiped out our corn crops. We lucked out and the recovered seed has not been so contaminated.

However, one container of the seed was never inspected.

Well, I feel safer thanks to the Department of Homeland Security. Don’t you?