He's big. He's bold. But he doesn't have a stinger.
He's the Valley Carpenter Bee (Xylocopa varipuncta) and he came to visit the front garden last week. He was especially partial to the purple veronica plants in bloom. He's quite a lot of insect to manage at first glance, but he does dress to impress.
A few weeks ago, I led a ceramics workshop: how to sculpt birds in clay. Birds that don't have to be "real" birds, but ones that still look like they could be real.
As you can see, the students exceeded at the task:
Not the brightest thing I've ever done, but I still like the result. So, if you have a ball of leftover clay, and a few spare minutes, why not make a ceramic bead? Or six? Or one hundred and six? Or even more?
However, once you have all these beads knocking around, then what? They can, and trust me, they have, just sit around on a shelf in the garage. But eventually, you really have to do something with them. Like throw them out, try and give them away, or something.
I went the something route and "decorated" the house with bead garlands. As my friend Eve pointed out, "Just in time for Mardi Gras!" (She's more of a party animal than I am.)
Is it wet outside? Cold? More than a bit windy?
Is it dry inside? With warm, snuggy blankies on the bed? Calm and (mostly) quiet?
Of course the answer to all of the above questions is "yes". But does Luna want to come inside?
Remember waay back when - December, 2023, to be precise - I wrote about a new set of gourds I grew in the front yard, destined (fingers crossed) to become birdhouses? Most likely, you don't. But that's okay, because I can tell you about it (again?) and you probably won't mind because you don't remember, right?
So, the gourds grew all summer along in 2023, then sat outside on the front porch drying and curing until nearly the summer of 2024. It took a while, but it was a huge success: nine potential birdhouses for many, many generations of wrens, chickadees and/or titmice.
I did promise, it's true, not to bring up squash, pumpkins, gourds, zucchini or any other large edible vegetable for a while. And I haven't, not for ten whole months.
But just so you know, I am not the only one who "does" squash. To wit, some good friends of ours were in Montreal this fall, and at the farmers' market (probably the last of the season, since snow flurries were imminent) they came across this entertaining and educational display:
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| Photo courtesy of Eileen Ward |
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.
Last week: almost there, so wish me luck that I will make the deadline!
A week ago, Luna's favorite hangout was on top of the neighbor's rain barrel. The dark plastic absorbed the heat; she could see into the yards and down the driveway, just in case that archenemy, The Black Cat was nearby.
These days, with all this rain, wind and cold, guess who has been firmly committed to the plush cushion upstairs?
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!
