The Long and the Short of It

They may be short, but they are mighty.

And very unlike their companions in the backyard.

But I love them all.

Jill and the Giant Sunflower Stalk

It's a volunteer from dropped seeds from last year. Its parents were not like this, but that's that's genetics for you... nine feet and counting.

 

Early Spring

I planted these crocuses in 1988. Or by now, maybe it was their ancestors that I planted way back then. It doesn't matter. They still are wonderful.

Short, Wide, Proud

And keeping the bees quite happy (note honeybee at twelve o'clock on the flower). Standing at the lofty height of 34 inches, the seed head measures a grand 13 inches in diameter. We (me and the wee birdies, that is) have high hopes for collecting lots of seeds for the winter. Just need to come up with a plan for those pesky squirrels!

Oh look - there's two!

Nothing Like a Deadline

So I started this ceramic project - everyone needs some birds and cactus in the yard, right - in the spring, and then, stuff happened. A lot of stuff, and mostly not good stuff. In fact, the kind of stuff that takes up a lot of time, energy, emotion fortitude and, well, life.

But I'm now getting back on track, and have great ambitions to complete this project by the end of the year. Or early January, Yes, I am deadline driven, but not that deadline driven. The point is simply to move it along. 

So from April, where there were three unglazed cactuses with unglazed birds to July when the cactuses were glazed, but not the birds. 

And in July-August, the grouping had been placed in the backyard.

By October, there were a few more pieces constructed and glazed, and a few more to go.

Last week: almost there, so wish me luck that I will make the deadline! 

Keeping the Spirits Up

 Well, my anxiety level is quite high, and Election Day isn't even here yet. But I have already voted, and I hope that you have, as well. And if not, get on it already!

To help keep the panic away, I've been looking at photos I took this year; I offer you a little vignette of flowers and ceramics (yup, handmade by me) from along my driveway. Cheers!

Who's Your Daddy?

 Same mother sunflower plant, grown from seeds saved from last year. But since the bees are doing the heavy lifting of moving around the male pollen, any sunflower could have been your daddy. 

Yup, the power of genetics...

It's About Thyme

Wooly Thyme (Thymus pseudolanuginosus) in the morning

An Uncommon Visitor

Known as the common green darner (Anax junius), it's not anyone I've ever met up with around here. Blends in pretty well with the fava bean leaves, but somehow it caught my eye. Or its very large eyes met mine? Regardless, s/he hung around the yard for two days, and then, well, we lost touch. 

Garden Lanterns

It took forever, absolutely forever to complete these. But finally, finally, finally, I hit upon a way to keep them upright, not sinking away into the ground and stable. Whew!

Daytime

Nighttime

Once More, It's Spring in the Desert

In fact, it's a mini "Super Bloom" for the Echinopsis subdenudata 'Dominos'. Since early spring, it has been blooming, but only one or two blossoms at a time. But today, well today, is a good day.

Even the honeybees seem to agree - 

No Complaints

 Well, it's looking to be a really crappy year in the vegetable patch, but there are compensations: 

LILIES GALORE

No, you can't eat them - poisonous to you, me, cats, dogs, most everyone - but a feast for the eyes!

Springtime!

 Maybe? Fingers crossed...

Calendulas

Desert Blooms

The little cacti in the side yard have been very busy this summer, pumping out blooms and providing a wonderful habitat for many spiders (no, I do not dust the outdoor plants. That is most definitely someone else's job).

The most unexpected bloomer was the Tiger Jaws (Faucaria felina) from South Africa, technically not a cactus, but amazing in its own way. 

T

Oh So Pink

As one reviewer stated on Dave's Garden, "Overall, this plant is only for cactus experts and/or masochists."

I know I'm not the former, and I hope I'm not the latter, but I haven't found this cactus to be too difficult. On the other hand, the reviewer is right - the hooked spines of Mammillaria senilis are ferocious.

But the blooms! Those big, glossy pink blooms!

End of the Season

Evidence of the end of summer: 

A late season sighting of a katydid on the soon-to-be-faded calendulas. The summer garden is all wrapped up, except for a few sweet peppers still clinging to bedraggled plants. We've eaten the last of the tomatoes and in their place, daikon radishes are flourishing.

And it's RAINING! 

Springtime on the Southside of North Oakland

They're BACK!

The gourd was hung in backyard in January, 2016 as a nesting site (it looked a lot fresher back then.). And that spring, and every spring since, it has hosted at least one round of Bewick's wren nestlings. Often two. 

Over the past few weeks, we have observed (from a polite distance, of course) a lot of "birdie-action" at the nest site: Chestnut-backed chickadees, Oak titmice and the wrens, all checking out the property. But until very recently, it wasn't clear who would be claiming the gourd this year. 

Bewick's wren, April 1st, 2021

So how did we know for certain that it was to be the wren's home again? Two days ago, one of the wrens was observed chasing away a Fox squirrel from around the gourd! We wish these fierce little ones all the best this nesting season.

Feasting on the Fennel

October 21st

Ms. Anise Swallowtail (Papilio zelicaon) showed up one morning and simply started eating. And eating. And eating some more. 

Luckily, she seems to like the fronds far more than the bulbs, so we are able to share quite easily.

Unless she keeps eating. And eating.

At some point (three to four weeks, they say, so it looks like we have a way to go) she will stop eating and form a chrysalis.

Then it's another ten to twenty days before a gorgeous butterfly emerges. The race is on!

October 25th

 

October 30th

The fennel variety is Perfection, and I have had good luck growing it in the fall. It may even be featured on the Thanksgiving menu this year. Unless of course, she eats it all.

Monarchs and Milkweeds

I hate growing milkweed plants. Well, it's not the plants I hate. It's the sticky orange aphids that always seem to infest milkweed plants that I truly loath. And "infest" is not hyperbole; in fact, it probably understates the problem.

But after hearing about the collapse of the monarch butterfly population on the west coast, I figured that, once again, I must get over my aversion to pulsing, brainless orange bugs and plant some milkweeds.

So this summer I researched which species of milkweed are native to my area, and planted Narrow Leaf Milkweed (Asclepias fascicularis). In a pot, and far away from any other plants that those orange buggers also might want to colonize. And each time I water the milkweed, I always wear work gloves so that I can smash, smush, squish and squash them into oblivion. A festival of murder and mayhem every two or three days. All without getting my hands dirty.

And the payoff for all this hands-on grossness? Three days ago, I found the first little monarch caterpillar munching away. It's a little late in the season, but maybe s/he can pull it off. And if not this season, no matter. There will be more chances next year because this time around I won’t give up on milkweeds and monarchs just because of some icky-sticky orange bugs.