April 15, 2013 by Born To Organize

Boston: In Other’s Words

Warning: The words in italics are not my own, but I agree with all of them. I’ve removed the f-bomb to keep my G rating.

Tragedy…and hope. The world is still a good place. Plant flowers, hug your children, pet your cat and love the ones you’re with. And yes, grieve.

To read the post in its entirety, please link to Oswalt’s facebook page.

Please join the conversation in the comments section, below:

by Patton Oswalt

Boston. F**ng horrible.

I remember, when 9/11 went down, my reaction was, “Well, I’ve had it with humanity.”

But I was wrong. I don’t know what’s going to be revealed to be behind all of this mayhem. One human insect or a poisonous mass of broken sociopaths.

But here’s what I DO know. If it’s one person or a HUNDRED people, that number is not even a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a percent of the population on this planet. You watch the videos of the carnage and there are people running TOWARDS the destruction to help out. (Thanks FAKE Gallery founder and owner Paul Kozlowski for pointing this out to me). This is a giant planet and we’re lucky to live on it but there are prices and penalties incurred for the daily miracle of existence. One of them is, every once in a while, the wiring of a tiny sliver of the species gets snarled and they’re pointed towards darkness.

But the vast majority stands against that darkness and, like white blood cells attacking a virus, they dilute and weaken and eventually wash away the evil doers and, more importantly, the damage they wreak. This is beyond religion or creed or nation. We would not be here if humanity were inherently evil. We’d have eaten ourselves alive long ago.

So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think, “The good outnumber you, and we always will.”

My heart goes out to the people of Boston, the families and victims of the attack, and yes, to the heartless soul or souls who are behind this violence. I’m trying hard to understand your heart of darkness.

April 12, 2013 by Born To Organize

A Pumpkin We-Will-Grow

Pumpkin seedling staying warm in the straw

That was easy!

The pumpkins are in. They’re lush, plentiful and thriving. In case you’re wondering about my mad gardening skills, you can sum them up in one word: compost.

I didn’t add compost to make them grow; instead they grew in the compost. I’m new to composting, and like any convert, I can’t say enough about the process (fun) and the end results (see photos, below).

When my nifty, thrifty, spinning composter reached capacity, I searched for alternatives. I re-purposed an old Rubbermaid bin, once used for children’s toys. I tossed in the straw left over from our Halloween party, then dry leaves, grass clippings and kitchen waste. I popped on the lid, drilled holes in the bottom for air circulation and drainage, and called it a day. Turning the compost was the biggest challenge. It was hard to get leverage in a narrow, small bin but I managed. About a month ago, I removed the lid and saw this: tiny pumpkin sprouts. Awe-some!!!

Pumpkin Seedling

Figuring I would transplant the seedlings when the weather warmed up, I simply returned the lid. I left it open just a crack for more light.

Then this happened:

Rich compost = happy pumpkins!

Out of the compost and into the planting bed

Success! Pumpkins thrive in raised bed

Now all I have to do is figure out what to do with all those pumpkin seeds I saved from last year! Any takers?

Have you found any surprises in your garden this year?

April 7, 2013 by Born To Organize

Loving All Creatures, Great and Small

Do you know what dogs, birds and mice have in common? My unconditional love of all creatures, great and small.

This last week I encountered all three.

Dark Eyed Junco

Dark-eyed Junco Nest

In late March I wrote about my amazing discovery, a small dark-eyed junco nest. Mama junco built her little house in a Nandina shrub growing on my client’s patio. She lined the nest with fur from the resident Lab.

Mama junco ‘posed’ for pictures a week ago Friday from a nearby tree. I left with a bounce in my step, looking forward to seeing her again the following week. When I returned Tuesday there was no sign of her. She’s either abandoned the nest or met with a darker fate. It’s been a full week since any of us have seen her. Perhaps the recent commotion around the front door sent her packing.

I’ve wondered if she registered the potential for trouble and simply decided to start again elsewhere. My client generally enters the house from the garage, so the front door, near a sheltered patio and elevated from the street was probably a good spot. Now realtors, inspectors, potential buyers and garden bloggers are traipsing past her tiny home. My hope turned to sadness by weeks-end as I passed the lonely collection of tiny speckled eggs.

Field Mouse/Cat Mouse

Mouse Relocation Tools

Thanks to the milder weather, I opened the back door early as I went about the start of my day. Rounding the corner to our entry way, I heard a tiny squeak in front of the neighbor’s cat. The cat, named Mighty Mouse, brought in a tiny field mouse, alive but obviously stunned. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a small plastic tub. I shooed the cat, covered the mouse and called my son for help. He isolated all four cats in different rooms while I tried to figure out what to do next. I could see tiny feet poking out and hoped she wasn’t injured. I placed a weight on the tub and ran for my crafting mat. Slowly and gradually I slid the mat below the tub until the mouse was completely trapped between the layers. I released the mouse at the edge of the deck, hoping she wasn’t someone’s mother. She was wet from the grass and stunned, but seemed unharmed. I went inside for the camera, reasoning that if she was gone when I got back, all was well. Much as I wish I had her picture, I’m happy she moved on.

A Lab Named Rosie

Rosie the Magnificent

Lining Nests for 13 Year’s and counting

I finished my week in the company of Rosie, a gorgeous sweetheart of a dog. Her loving ways and sounds of contentment when you give her a scratch are endearing to all. Rosie is perhaps too old to chase mice, but several strands of her lovely fur line the now-abandoned nest of the dark-eyed junco. She’s still in the game.

How about you? Do creatures play a role in your life? Do you have a story to share?

April 6, 2013 by Born To Organize

It Was a Dark and Stormy Garden…

After Dark

I’ve gardened in the rain and cold until my fingers were numb. I’ve gardened at dusk till feasting mosquitoes drove me indoors. I’ve even gardened in the mid-day heat, keeping the tormenting sun at bay with hats and sunscreens and moveable umbrellas. But I’ve never gardened after dark.

“Dark” is subjective of course. It’s that time of day when I reluctantly turn my garden over to the other side. If I’m outside too late, Dark reveals opossums, meandering along the fence. Frankly, they give me the creeps. I once encountered one on my pathway late at night, walking straight for me. I froze in place, but it ignored me and meandered on.

Raccoons also visit the yard. They like to play in the fountain and on one occasion, tapped on the cat door. The rats don’t always wait for Dark. They rustle around in the orange tree reminding me to pack up my tools and head on in. Dark is just around the corner.

Spiders, a gardeners friend, have cousins that prefer to wait for Dark. They live under the BBQ and below the eaves. They don’t make a sound, adding to the creepiness factor, but I know they’re there.

I’ve found myself racing the setting sun, trying to pull one more weed before night fall, trying to prune one last vine. I become a little obsessed with the work at hand and I’m reluctant to stop. In the summer months it’s usually too hot to garden by day. My fair skin prefers the damp mists of Avalon to the sunny climate of San Jose. Since I live in the suburbs and not a mystical novel I’m forced to make do. So I race that setting sun while acknowledging the inevitable. My garden is harmless by day, but, like the closet of my youth, with the flip of the light switch, all bets are off.

April 4, 2013 by Born To Organize

Poetry Month – Emily Dickinson’s “Bee! I’m Expecting You!”

I found this delightful Emily Dickinson poem at Romancing the Bee, a site dedicated to personal bee-keeping, cottage gardening and cooking with (you guessed it) honey. I’d never read it before. Now I’m a fan. Without further ado, “Bee! I’m Expecting You!” Alys

Romancing the Bee

Bee! I’m expecting you!
Was saying Yesterday
To Somebody you know
That you were due —
The Frogs got Home last Week —
Are settled, and at work —
Birds, mostly back —
The Clover warm and thick —
You’ll get my Letter by
The seventeenth; Reply
Or better, be with me —
Yours, Fly.

Poetry Month – “Telling The Bees” (romancingthebee.com)
…the bumblebee: Emily Dickinson (cathay12.wordpress.com)
Scholars: Second known photo of Emily Dickinson shows famed poet circa 1859 with female friend (miamiherald.typepad.com)

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April 3, 2013 by Born To Organize

Tulips: Waving Farewell

Our tulips put on a lovely show for weeks. Thanks to all of you for encouraging me to give them a second chance. Years ago I planted a big batch of tulips from Costco and not a single one came up. My friend, Bob, thinks the squirrels made off with them instead.

One of the cool things about keeping a gardening blog is the log. With over a year of blogging, I can refer back to planting schedules, what worked, what didn’t and all the wonderful comments you post. It takes a village to plant an awesome garden. I love that. ♥

Here’s what I’ll be referring to this fall when I buy and chill garden bulbs:

Tulip Angelique

Angéliqué

Planted: 15
Survived: 4
Thrived: 2

I might try again, but in a different location. They’re stunning, but just didn’t take off.

Tulip ‘Attila’

Attila

Planted 15
Survived: 12
Thrived: 12

These will definitely be back next year.

Tulip ‘Passionale’

Passionale

Planted 5
Survived: 5
Thrived: 5

Also a winner, the Passionale tulips were the first up and the longest-lasting.

The not so dirty dozen

I thought I would feel wistful as the tulips faded, but signs of spring are in abundance everywhere. Farewell, garden beauties. Till next year.

Are you seeing signs of spring, too?

March 30, 2013 by Born To Organize

Fairy Garden Fail: Are You Laughing Yet?

Bunny ear with a bit of laundry lint for the birds.

Some days you get it right and some days things go terribly wrong. Today fell into the latter. My concept for the Easter fairy garden was simple: The merest suggestion of an Easter Bunny watching over the little garden. Perhaps I should have quit with the bunny ears subtly peeking out from the fescue. I completely forgot the cliché ‘quit while you’re ahead’ and kept going. Now its dark and starting to rain so I’ve no time for a do-over. When I downloaded the pictures, they were, well…kinda of creepy. When my son saw the photos and burst out laughing, I knew I was doomed.

So…here is what I initially wrote, and the pictures that don’t quite go with it.

Tiny eggs appeared in the fairy garden today. I guess the Easter Bunny started his rounds early.

Easter eggs!

I completely understand. I started my own rounds by reaching into the bag of tomorrow’s candy so I could do a little ‘quality control.’ No sense making my kids sick on untested chocolate.

So far, so good. :-)

The Easter Bunny seems to have grown since we last saw him. Like many of us, he’s suffering from a bit of middle-aged spread. He wears it well though. Perhaps I need to wear more pink…or eat less chocolate.

Big Boy Bunny

Nah. I’m searching the web now for the latest in pink confections..I mean fashions.

Happy Easter!

This little deer found an egg.

Look left little frog…you’re getting warmer

Bunny ears!

Cute ‘little’ bunny with a tulip petal nose

I hope you’re laughing, too.

March 29, 2013 by Born To Organize

D.J. and the Speckles

I love my community!

Yesterday I wrote about a bird’s nest and her speckled eggs, sheltering on a client’s patio. I didn’t have a photo of Mama Bird, but knew she was ‘brown.’ Not much to go on, was it? After a futile Google search, I asked for help identifying the eggs.

My friend Sheila forwarded the photos to Larry Jordan of The Birders Report to see if he could help. Larry quickly identified the probable bird as a Dark-eyed Junco.

Mama Bird, aka D.J.

“You’re still here with that camera, I see. Don’t you have better things to do?”

Dark-eyed Junco nest

When I passed by the Pittosporum this afternoon, once again Mama Bird flew the nest. She kept her eye on me while I loaded the car, then posed for several photos. (Actually, I’m pretty sure she was just humoring me till I cleared out of there.) My photos aren’t as sharp as the one on Larry’s site, but all the signs are there: dark eyes, light brown feathers, orange beak.

I’m filled with joy knowing D.J. is still there and that she hasn’t been scared off from her nest. Mamas of all stripes are pretty fierce when it comes to protecting their young. I’m happy to report she’s no exception.

One last detail that makes me smile whenever I look at this photo: a sweet, aging Black Labrador Retriever lives in the home. It looks as though she’s made her own contribution to the lining of this nest.

Resources:

If you’re as fascinated with nests as I am, this site is for you. Larry has an extensive photo library of bird eggs and nests with guidelines for identifying (without ever disturbing) the mama-bird and her clutch.

March 28, 2013 by Born To Organize

Speckled Eggs

Pittosporum with Nest

When I climbed the brick patio steps of a potential client last week I startled a little brown bird. She hopped along my path, then the low wall and finally flew away toward the garden.

I started a project at the same home this week, and again spotted the bird. This time she flew from the low branches of a potted Pittosporum. The jangling of keys in the door must have startled her. She flew out like a shot, surprising us both. When it happened a third time, I knew their had to be a nest.

With my camera in hand, and mama bird elsewhere, I peered into the dense leaves. Nothing.

Assuming I’d imagined the whole thing, I took one last look and there it was: a tiny, hair-lined nest and five speckled eggs. Goosebumps!

Bird's Nest Closeup Bird's Nest with eggs

Much like Sarah The Gardener, and her ‘stolen’ chic, I’ve found myself feeling responsible for the tiny eggs. Will mama bird continue to visit the nest with these frequent interruptions? Is this the first time she made her home there, or does she come back every year? I want to be sure to notify the movers so they don’t accidentally jostle the nest. It’s a mere arm’s length from the front door, protected from the elements but not from the sudden jolt of a box of dishes or the end of a couch.

I’ve searched the web for ways to identify the eggs, and possible gestation, but it’s been tricky. I think I’ve narrowed it down, but hope to get one more look at mama bird tomorrow to help me decide.

Any guesses?

Update: My friend Sheila forwarded the photos to Larry Jordan of The Birders Report to see if he could help. Larry quickly identified the probable bird as a Dark-eyed Junco.

House Finch (native to the Bay Area)

Los Gatos Birdwatcher Partners

Bird’s Nest Webcams:

Bolsa Chica Nest Cam

Phoebe Allans Nest Cam

March 25, 2013 by Born To Organize

Beauty Down Under

Have you ever noticed the beauty of a flower, down under?

I’ve grown to love the view through my camera lens. The narrowed focus and clarity allow me to see things I might miss. Who knew that vibrant purple tulips rise from their stem with a subtle brush stroke of cream. Nature imitating art?

Looking Up

Freesias curl from a chain of looped, waxy stems. Soft yellows fade to white, then splash out an intense magenta. They’re intoxicating too, drawing my nose toward the planter whenever I walk by. I love these colors. I’m dreaming of a summer dress with a yellow bodice and a fuchsia skirt. Surely one of the fashion houses has thought of that.

Freesias

Look closely. I think this Cyclamen brushed on magenta eye shadow at the start of the day. Too shy to flirt with the world, she keeps this side of her hidden down below.

Cyclamen ‘Eye Shadow’

The Tulip Magnolia sport ‘fingers,’ pulled together as if to wave at passersby (or…let’s face it), the coming and going snails. I love it, warts and all.

Magnolia Tulip Fingers

As I child I liked to view the world from different perspectives. I imagined the house as if everything were upside down. Watching clouds while sprawled on my back connected me to the world in a different way. I probably spent too much time day-dreaming, the hallmark of an introvert though I also craved real-world connections. As an adult, I enjoy both. Human connection and solitude. I’m a social being who craves unfettered time alone. What better place to find it then in the garden, down under.