Somebody's Happy

It's about as tall as I am, and I really don't know the actual number of blooms, but who's counting? Yes, it's time again for the Philippine lily (ilium philippinense). Last fall I transplanted it to a new location and goodness, have my efforts been rewarded. 

Gabe's Basketball

2016

Once upon a time ago, my friend Gabriel played basketball. And then he didn't. So when he and his family moved, there was this slightly spongy, spare basketball which came to my house. Well, the garage, actually.

Where it happily stayed for a looong time, until at last I covered it with concrete for a mosaic project. It was a good start, but that's all it was for another couple of years.

Until this summer, when it became clear that the only way to prevent the garage walls from bulging out and buckling was to finish up some of those semi-started projects. In truth, it probably would have been more efficient to simply throw them all away.

Audio books* to the rescue. For the past month, I have spent some part of most every day in the garage, listening to something good. It got pretty messy, the grouting part, not the listening part, but Gabe's basketball is now completely disguised.

And the work table is again available for the next garage-saving project.

2018

* Wolf Hall and/or Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel

  Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward

Great Bees of Fire

Not really. Not of fire. But just busy and helpful to us, so perhaps we should extend a helping hand in return. For example:

The Great Sunflower Project (GSP) is an on-going, citizen-science, hands-on (just how many hyphenated adjectives can I string together?), participatory activity with over 100,000 members that helps scientists better understand bees and other pollinators.

I encourage everyone with any sort of garden to volunteer with the GSP. You can even do it from your home. Right now, the GPS is looking for people to commit to at least 4 data counts during the year - 40 minutes total. And if you live in the Midwest, please start the counting, because info from there is really incomplete. This map tells the story.

I have been participating in the GSP for 10+ years, and back then I would grow sunflowers in the parking strip. Needless to say, the sidewalk in front was pretty entertaining, but more than a little crowded.

So I wised up and planted coreopsis. My coreopsis counts cannot be used as part of the official GSP pollinator surveys, but are useful in helping identify important pollinator plants. And yes, even if they don't officially count, bees and other pollinators absolutely adore the coreopsis.

Perhaps that is the big lesson - just plant some bee friendly flowering plants. The pollinators will love them and you, even if you don't get around to counting.

The Cruelest Month

This year it would seem that the cruelest month is June, not April, what with families being split apart with no easy way to be reunited, and legal authorities determined to, well, I'm not at all sure what they're on about. I just know that it doesn't make for happy reading.

When I'm done with the letter-writing, phone-calling, petition-signing, oh-do-I-have-to activities, I have a few methods for coping:

o   Elizabeth George mysteries;

o   Working on mosaics in the garage;

o   Searching for my new baby friends - the return of the katydids!


Let's all hope that July will be better.

The Rain in Spain Had a Silver Lining

Although Audrey Hepburn would tell you that "the rain stays mainly in the plain," nearly everywhere was wet. So rather than heading north for more days of soggy weather, we turned south. To the Mosque-Cathedral of Cordoba:

It was a very good decision. 

Further south in the Sierra de Grazalema, the rains had produced the most astounding wildflower displays. The ground was rocky, but entirely covered with blooming plants.

My inner Flower Floozy was never happier.

Identification Resource: Wildflowers of Andalucia

The Color Purple:

Just where does it begin? Or end?

"She's Nutty as Squirrel Poo."

-- J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

December, 2017. San Diego Botanic Garden. I was the squirrel.

The nuts - acorns from a cork oak (Querus suber), an evergreen oak, native to the Mediterranean basin. And important to a wide range of life forms, including the common wine drinker (Homo sapiens potator).

Obviously, cork is used as a stopper for wine, as well as for flooring and other useful things. What's critical is that cork can be harvested from the bark of the tree without harming the tree: the tree lives on to grow another layer of cork bark for future harvests.

Acorns w/tap roots

For me, I just wanted to see whether I could get them to sprout. So I loaded up my pockets and planted them in two large pots and waited. And waited.

And waited until I got so impatient (hard to believe, I know) that I dumped out one of the pots and was shocked by the long and sturdy tap root emerging from many of the seeds. Now what?

Reload the pot and wait some more. That was late March. A month later, baby oak trees started peeking out of the soil.

Now I did not need to be reminded (ahem, Michael) that we have no room for another tree. But there are people, a few of whom we know, who have space for a really cool, drought tolerant and handsome tree in Sonoma County. May they live long and prosper there!

Springtime in the Deserts of Oakland

The Heads on Stakes are in bloom. The bright orange-red flower belongs to an expanding peanut cactus (Chamaecereus slivestrii). Pieces of this little guy were given to me (yup, freebies) once upon a time by some generous helper-person at Westbrae Nursery. I took them somewhat reluctantly - just what I didn't need was yet another thing to feed and water. In this case, though, little need to feed, and only requires water every three weeks. So perhaps we will have a satisfying long-term relationship.

The big blooming white jobbie is Echinopsis spps. 'Dominos'. It's supposed to only bloom at night, and only for the one night (perhaps its nickname should be the 'One Night Stand Cactus'?), but this particular one had other ideas. Bloomed for two days. Days, not nights, and then the blossom flopped over and fell off. I'm not complaining. Maybe he'll even call me again?

Oh No! No Wildcat!

What a surprise this morning when the most recent post appeared on my iPad without the video!

Blame me, blame Blogger (let's not go into the frustrations of Blogger right now), blame whoever you like (your lawyer? Your not-really-my-lawyer lawyer?) but let me try and make it right.

First, if you click on the title of the post, you will be taken to the blog where you can see the video (I checked. It's really there.)

Second, I have, once again, attached Ati's video here. I've crossed my fingers, lit some candles and now hope that maybe it will show up here.

Third, it's probably best just to click on the post's title to see the video. And if that doesn't work, light some candles, pour a glass of wine, take a deep breath and remember that it's only Tuesday.

Wild Cat!

Hah! Now I bet that you're thinking that this piece will be all about Princess the Cat. You know, the reigning Rodent Slayer and DoodleFart of Love? But you'd be wrong. In truth, I'd have bet on Princess too, given that her name comes up here every so often.

Anchuela del Campo

Neither is this wild cat an out-of-control feral cat (Felis catus or Felis silvestris catus) that one encounters in cities, parks, fields and neighborhoods around most of the world.

Rather it's the European wildcat (Felis silvestris), a truly wild - as in, not domesticated and apparently not domesticable - cat who probably couldn't even conceive of a litter box. 

Larger than a typical housecat, the European wildcat quietly and secretly lives throughout much of Europe and has recently been caught on film in Spain, near Anchuela del Campo.

Atilano Lima Sauz, really known as our good friend Ati, has kept his Bushnell camera busy. I can't say for sure, but I'm thinking that there was many a night when the camera came up empty. Until at last, this wildcat showed up:

Congratulations, Ati!