Today is bulb day. Mid October, we've had some chill in the air to prepare the dirt for a good winter sleep, and the few bulbs I actually purchased for this year have arrived.
I have been psyched for this for weeks. I have counted on this day to help me ease out of warm summer days and into fallwinter. It seems to me that we only have 3 seasons around here. Spring, Summer, and fallwinter. One day it will be a high of 50 and the next a frigid 22 low from mid Oct to late Feburary.
Although we've had several cool nights and days, today presented with humidity and the promise of August heat. I suspected something was amiss when I first put my glasses on this morning and they fogged. Usually it is my brain that stays in a bit of a fog, but today my glasses decided to give it a try.
I put on my overalls and went downstairs for tea. When I broke a sweat coming down the stairs I wondered "What in the world?"
When I got into the Cabrio, the top automatically opened. I turned on the radio and caught the weather report. "High of 86 today" my radio sweated the news to me.
I couldn't believe it. I'd been sleeping under a blanket for a while now, and suddenly we're stepping into summer again? Was Mother nature P-M-S-ing? or what?
Oh, well, I decided. The heat won't hang around long, I'll bulb anyway.
When I arrived at work, I went downstairs and brought up the two boxes of tulip bulbs and early blooming daffs that have been resting all summer. The early daffs came from a church member who willingly thinned her bed out early summer for me. For the church. I noticed the flowers on her plants were just a tad smaller and delicate than the strong yellow flowers I planted a year ago and I thought the variety would look nice. The members here are generous that way. Many people are when it comes to plant sharing, I have discovered.
I made the trip for compost, loaded up my car with bags of it and put on my garden gloves. I sharpened my hand shovel, popped a piece of super bubble into the old mouth and brought the boxes outside.
My bulb collection has grown allsummer. Most I either dug up or begged for from others' yards,
I decided to plant seasonally starting with early spring bloomers. Windflowers.
I hoped they would be a groundcover of daisy-like blooms that would eventually cover the daff greenery after the blooms had faded.
I pulled out the bags of little black bulbs and set them on the ground where I wanted to plant them all along the front beds of the church.
When I got to the end of the bed I turned around and, with shovel in hand, I headed back to where i started, ready to plant where they lay.
The bulbs were no longer laying on the dirt where I had left them. They were some, back in the bag, some scattered in the box, and a few others rolling around in the grass.
Hmmm,I thought to myself. I scooped a handful of the AWOL bulbs and walked over to the dirt. I pressed my shovel into the rich earth and made a lovely hole, warm, comforting and inviting for any bulb to inhabit.
I dropped a bulb into the hole and it flew right up like Marilyn Monroe's white dress in that scene on the sidewalk. Luckily, I caught it. I tried again, this time placing rather than dropping. The bulb reacted to the hole as two resistant magnets. The little black ball would not, could not, or maybe just refused to go to bed.
The 86 had hit by that time with 100% humidity and I looked like I had just run through the sprinkler. Wishful thinking. Suddenly, I was weary. Hot and bothered. I decided that Mother nature knows better than human nature sometimes, and this was one of those times. I bagged up the bulbs and carried them back inside.
Maybe next week will bring a bulb day again.
Showing posts with label bulbs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bulbs. Show all posts
Friday, October 09, 2009
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Bulbs for Easter continued
A person came in for some assistance. One of my jobs is to work with people who come in for help. I call them Avon people because at home church these folks have to ring the bell to come in. At work church, there is no doorbell, but i sort of hear it in my head when they enter. This is a very challenging part of my work. I think to myself with every person I talk to, "This could be me...in one day, this could be me. One month late on my rent, and this could be me. An extended illness, an expensive car repair, and I become an Avon person." Being a single parent has put financial security in a space ship and has sent that concept into outer space.
The reality of helping our Avon people is that some people really do need help, and others are just working the system. Since I am not in a position to judge the difference, I've come up with a system that helps me decide what we can do to empower rather than enable. The system is simple. It is the same system that I relied on to help me understand my children when they were teenagers. I ask questions. and I listen.
I guess I could write a whole long story about assistance but i really only need to say that on this day, someone who really needed help came in seeking it. We talked, and I gave what I thought we needed to, and then I gave him resource suggestions to help him find more help. He, like many, asked what he could do to pay us back. Most of the time, this is a question that comes from a sense of pride, and most of the time, all of the time since I've been doing this, the question evaporates when they walk out the door.
This man sounded like he really wanted to do something to repay us. I told him to let that go, and that is what we are here for. Then, I paused. I knew he had been a working man until recently, and I knew he was in his mid 40's and had an unexpected heart ailment and I knew that major heart surgery often brings depression with the recuperation. I thought how helpless it must feel to suddenly, literally over night be without independence. So, I said, " Well, I'm planting bulbs in a week, do you want to help?" and he said, yes.
I didn't expect him to return and he didn't the next week. But- he called and asked for a raincheck, so I gave him one and lo. LO! Friday morning, there he is sitting on the bench in the lobby waiting for me.
I told him I was so glad to see him, and that I really just wanted the company, I didn't want him to think he was going to be working for the help we had given him. He was shocked. I said it would be the biggest favor to me if he could help me by being with me while I dug. So, together, we went outside and he snipped open the bags of bulbs and I planted them. The 700 planted bulbs grew to 1,000. ( FYI: If they don't grow, I'll deny this entire series)We chatted, he seemed to need to talk, and doing a simple mindless task such as repetitive planting is a good, safe way to just chat. I took him up the street for lunch later and left him there with a friend to take him home; both of us feeling a little better about the world.
So, the idea- the great idea my boss had that sounded so simple showed its true colors. Planting bulbs has already turned into planting good things with others. See how smart that man is??
The reality of helping our Avon people is that some people really do need help, and others are just working the system. Since I am not in a position to judge the difference, I've come up with a system that helps me decide what we can do to empower rather than enable. The system is simple. It is the same system that I relied on to help me understand my children when they were teenagers. I ask questions. and I listen.
I guess I could write a whole long story about assistance but i really only need to say that on this day, someone who really needed help came in seeking it. We talked, and I gave what I thought we needed to, and then I gave him resource suggestions to help him find more help. He, like many, asked what he could do to pay us back. Most of the time, this is a question that comes from a sense of pride, and most of the time, all of the time since I've been doing this, the question evaporates when they walk out the door.
This man sounded like he really wanted to do something to repay us. I told him to let that go, and that is what we are here for. Then, I paused. I knew he had been a working man until recently, and I knew he was in his mid 40's and had an unexpected heart ailment and I knew that major heart surgery often brings depression with the recuperation. I thought how helpless it must feel to suddenly, literally over night be without independence. So, I said, " Well, I'm planting bulbs in a week, do you want to help?" and he said, yes.
I didn't expect him to return and he didn't the next week. But- he called and asked for a raincheck, so I gave him one and lo. LO! Friday morning, there he is sitting on the bench in the lobby waiting for me.
I told him I was so glad to see him, and that I really just wanted the company, I didn't want him to think he was going to be working for the help we had given him. He was shocked. I said it would be the biggest favor to me if he could help me by being with me while I dug. So, together, we went outside and he snipped open the bags of bulbs and I planted them. The 700 planted bulbs grew to 1,000. ( FYI: If they don't grow, I'll deny this entire series)We chatted, he seemed to need to talk, and doing a simple mindless task such as repetitive planting is a good, safe way to just chat. I took him up the street for lunch later and left him there with a friend to take him home; both of us feeling a little better about the world.
So, the idea- the great idea my boss had that sounded so simple showed its true colors. Planting bulbs has already turned into planting good things with others. See how smart that man is??
Bulbs for Easter
My boss is a creative lunatic. He dreams up ideas that blow us all away, once we can understand the concepts. As long as I've been working for him, I have known this to be true. I've written of several instances where he's given us crumbs from an idea he's in the midst of creating, and although it is a wonderful thing to brainstorm, it is a near impossible task when you are brainstorming with a category 5 hurricane.
This year, he decided that giving the congregation bulbs to plant would be a good tactile/visual lesson on how we are growing in our faith... Greater things God can do with us -for us- at us..... and he thought if every member planted their bulbs, they could bring their flowers on Easter Sunday and Woah Baby!! We'd have SOME floral cross that day, sister!! The idea is brilliant. Amazing. Lovely. True to his talent. ...but as I sat next to him listening, a tiny centipede of reality began crawling around my head. " What if people don't plant their bulbs? What if only 3 people plant their bulbs and they don't grow? What if we have a flowerless cross? What kind of Easter would that be?" said my centipede realist. So I suggested that we order extras and I'd plant them in front of the church so we could use them if we needed them. He gave me the okay. I envisioned a lovely wave of yellow daffodils welcoming Easter morning.
I asked the landscapers to till narrow beds that ran in front of the bushes and they did, thank gosh. I looked at the newly turned dirt and felt sad that we couldn't have a little color to let us know Easter was coming. A little pre-bloom. So, I ordered 200 crocus bulbs as well.
One Friday, I put on my farmer -me overalls and planted the beds.
I invited the Wee Care preschool kids to help me plant the crocuses. I explained to the enthusiastic three year olds that bulbs had tops and bottoms just like us. Their bottoms are bigger like us, too and they wear special underwear that feels like paper. They want to reach for the sun so they point up. They need the same things we do to live- food, water, and love. Their food comes from the dirt, the sun and the rain. They were able farmers and helped. Some of the crocuses will be greeting the spring mornings from the tilled up beds, and some will be springing forth from the bushes and the grass. I figure Mother Nature is random, and who understands that better than a 3 year old, right?
700 bulbs later, my fingernails were unrecognizable and I had bonded with the dirt. My being was benefiting from the spiritual connection with nature. I stood and looked at the beds and thought what it might look like in the spring. hmmm. something was missing. The crocus bulbs had run out . I needed to order more. No. there was more going on here...Suddenly, the color left my sight and the grounds looked a little dull. Everything looked black and white.
I walked around and went to the corner where the brick church sign sits. That poor sign is the welcoming invite to all who drive by. "Come in!!" it beacons. But the brick stands alone. A sad semi circle of pine straw sits at its base, a flat and brown audience. sighhhh.
I went back inside and ordered more bulbs and then I ordered some special flowers just for the sign.
I thought about what I would like if I were standing on a corner waving people into my house and I ordered tiger iris, mixed daffodils, crocus and Fall crocus with a few delicate drippy white bell flowers to tuck into the corners. There. That is better. whew. Now, all I have to is wait.
This year, he decided that giving the congregation bulbs to plant would be a good tactile/visual lesson on how we are growing in our faith... Greater things God can do with us -for us- at us..... and he thought if every member planted their bulbs, they could bring their flowers on Easter Sunday and Woah Baby!! We'd have SOME floral cross that day, sister!! The idea is brilliant. Amazing. Lovely. True to his talent. ...but as I sat next to him listening, a tiny centipede of reality began crawling around my head. " What if people don't plant their bulbs? What if only 3 people plant their bulbs and they don't grow? What if we have a flowerless cross? What kind of Easter would that be?" said my centipede realist. So I suggested that we order extras and I'd plant them in front of the church so we could use them if we needed them. He gave me the okay. I envisioned a lovely wave of yellow daffodils welcoming Easter morning.
I asked the landscapers to till narrow beds that ran in front of the bushes and they did, thank gosh. I looked at the newly turned dirt and felt sad that we couldn't have a little color to let us know Easter was coming. A little pre-bloom. So, I ordered 200 crocus bulbs as well.
One Friday, I put on my farmer -me overalls and planted the beds.
I invited the Wee Care preschool kids to help me plant the crocuses. I explained to the enthusiastic three year olds that bulbs had tops and bottoms just like us. Their bottoms are bigger like us, too and they wear special underwear that feels like paper. They want to reach for the sun so they point up. They need the same things we do to live- food, water, and love. Their food comes from the dirt, the sun and the rain. They were able farmers and helped. Some of the crocuses will be greeting the spring mornings from the tilled up beds, and some will be springing forth from the bushes and the grass. I figure Mother Nature is random, and who understands that better than a 3 year old, right?
700 bulbs later, my fingernails were unrecognizable and I had bonded with the dirt. My being was benefiting from the spiritual connection with nature. I stood and looked at the beds and thought what it might look like in the spring. hmmm. something was missing. The crocus bulbs had run out . I needed to order more. No. there was more going on here...Suddenly, the color left my sight and the grounds looked a little dull. Everything looked black and white.
I walked around and went to the corner where the brick church sign sits. That poor sign is the welcoming invite to all who drive by. "Come in!!" it beacons. But the brick stands alone. A sad semi circle of pine straw sits at its base, a flat and brown audience. sighhhh.
I went back inside and ordered more bulbs and then I ordered some special flowers just for the sign.
I thought about what I would like if I were standing on a corner waving people into my house and I ordered tiger iris, mixed daffodils, crocus and Fall crocus with a few delicate drippy white bell flowers to tuck into the corners. There. That is better. whew. Now, all I have to is wait.
Saturday, October 04, 2008
Plant self revelations
Today is a perfect Fall day. or Spring day or early summer day or random winter day with color.
Temp is just right. sunny, mild, benign. Just a day. I have been looking forward to this day all week.
I visited Julia's yard again and scavenged some plants again and i went to Anna's to dig up some bigger Liripe. I drove over the rainbow to Jennifer's where she willingly shared some of her spider lillies with me. I put a request out on one of the neighborhood elists for daylillies and daff bulbs that needed thinning and got 3 responses, so after work, I went digging.
I now keep the pitchfork in my trunk. My baby cabrio is doubling as a truck. Somewhere in its baby cabrio soul it wanted to be a truck, so now it gets to-on occasion.
The city yard waste place i get the leaf mulch and compost is having a sale. The notice was more exciting to me than the Steinmart flyer i got in the mail. Ye Gods. What does this mean? Buy a load get one free. So now I can get 20 bags worth of eye watering nature vitamins for the price of one. I only spend 5 or 7 dollars as is, think I'll just keep to that. When I pull up in line behind the big-bed trucks, Cabrio Calvin and I feel so teeny. When I pull up to the window, I used to get smart looks from the compost teller, as if she is thinking, " What is this? a joke?" I just fill kitchen bags with leaves or compost to where I can carry them, and then I pile them in the trunk, floor, and well, every space I can stuff them. It doesn't take many trips for my space and now that I have the community garden spot started, I will only add compost to the beds. My friend prefers pine straw and she is on her own for that.
My daughter still has a couple of bags of leaves her friendly landscaper mom dropped off a couple of weeks ago. I'm delivering this stuff. I have grown to love the pungent odor of nature renewing it's own resources and changing leaves into growing fodder. My kids like it too. We don't have to unload truckloads of it anymore so it makes it easier to appreciate the value now. Good stuff.
Today at the bank, i noticed the landscapers were putting in pansies. I asked them what they had taken out and one guy pointed to a trash can behind their truck. I dug through the discarded plants but they were sun- loving plants, so i left them be. The community garden needs shade loving rootables.
Someone at work church supplied mums for centerpieces and gave them away later. I planted a couple at my house and one at the community garden. Gerbers have ended up in those places as well.
OMG
I'm addicted to scavenging plants. I'm hooked on putting other people's plants in other other people's yards. I'm a cross planter.
I pay attention to what's in bloom when I'm driving or walking now.
Monday, at 7 am, I will be waiting for the landscapers to arrive at my neighborhood shopping center because I hear they will be changing out the plants for Fall and I want to see if they'll let me have caladiums and ferns. But I'll really be hoping Santa landscapers will fill my bags with it all so I can figure out later what will work.
I'm a greedy dirt monger.
I rearranged my own plot out back and moved the mondo around, collected and regrouped the seedums. Just like furniture. What in the world.
I planted over a hundred sundry bulbs at my house and the same if not more in the community garden. Some bought, some dug up. Spring will be a mystery until we see what comes up. Oh, I hope something does come up. I can't wait to see the color. The hard work paying off. The thing is, all of this is learning for me. I'm getting to know how to do this in conditions different than I'm used to. It will be nice to see some blooms.
I realized that it feels good to me to have living things around me. My office is full of plants and a philodendron that is winding its way around the room. There is comfort for me in being with living things that require nothing more than tending and time. Weeding is peaceful for me, meditative. Wish I could do that weeding in my head and clear it out sometimes. I tend to personalize everything I see, but in this case, all of these things, including the dirt are alive.
oh! two more replies to the neighborhood elist request. Irises are waiting to meet new friends - Maybe today I can pluck a few before dark.
Soon, the season for dirty work will be hibernating and I'll have to rely on soup making to keep me out of my own trouble. Until the clock ticks us into winter, I'm keeping my fingers dirty, though.
Temp is just right. sunny, mild, benign. Just a day. I have been looking forward to this day all week.
I visited Julia's yard again and scavenged some plants again and i went to Anna's to dig up some bigger Liripe. I drove over the rainbow to Jennifer's where she willingly shared some of her spider lillies with me. I put a request out on one of the neighborhood elists for daylillies and daff bulbs that needed thinning and got 3 responses, so after work, I went digging.
I now keep the pitchfork in my trunk. My baby cabrio is doubling as a truck. Somewhere in its baby cabrio soul it wanted to be a truck, so now it gets to-on occasion.
The city yard waste place i get the leaf mulch and compost is having a sale. The notice was more exciting to me than the Steinmart flyer i got in the mail. Ye Gods. What does this mean? Buy a load get one free. So now I can get 20 bags worth of eye watering nature vitamins for the price of one. I only spend 5 or 7 dollars as is, think I'll just keep to that. When I pull up in line behind the big-bed trucks, Cabrio Calvin and I feel so teeny. When I pull up to the window, I used to get smart looks from the compost teller, as if she is thinking, " What is this? a joke?" I just fill kitchen bags with leaves or compost to where I can carry them, and then I pile them in the trunk, floor, and well, every space I can stuff them. It doesn't take many trips for my space and now that I have the community garden spot started, I will only add compost to the beds. My friend prefers pine straw and she is on her own for that.
My daughter still has a couple of bags of leaves her friendly landscaper mom dropped off a couple of weeks ago. I'm delivering this stuff. I have grown to love the pungent odor of nature renewing it's own resources and changing leaves into growing fodder. My kids like it too. We don't have to unload truckloads of it anymore so it makes it easier to appreciate the value now. Good stuff.
Today at the bank, i noticed the landscapers were putting in pansies. I asked them what they had taken out and one guy pointed to a trash can behind their truck. I dug through the discarded plants but they were sun- loving plants, so i left them be. The community garden needs shade loving rootables.
Someone at work church supplied mums for centerpieces and gave them away later. I planted a couple at my house and one at the community garden. Gerbers have ended up in those places as well.
OMG
I'm addicted to scavenging plants. I'm hooked on putting other people's plants in other other people's yards. I'm a cross planter.
I pay attention to what's in bloom when I'm driving or walking now.
Monday, at 7 am, I will be waiting for the landscapers to arrive at my neighborhood shopping center because I hear they will be changing out the plants for Fall and I want to see if they'll let me have caladiums and ferns. But I'll really be hoping Santa landscapers will fill my bags with it all so I can figure out later what will work.
I'm a greedy dirt monger.
I rearranged my own plot out back and moved the mondo around, collected and regrouped the seedums. Just like furniture. What in the world.
I planted over a hundred sundry bulbs at my house and the same if not more in the community garden. Some bought, some dug up. Spring will be a mystery until we see what comes up. Oh, I hope something does come up. I can't wait to see the color. The hard work paying off. The thing is, all of this is learning for me. I'm getting to know how to do this in conditions different than I'm used to. It will be nice to see some blooms.
I realized that it feels good to me to have living things around me. My office is full of plants and a philodendron that is winding its way around the room. There is comfort for me in being with living things that require nothing more than tending and time. Weeding is peaceful for me, meditative. Wish I could do that weeding in my head and clear it out sometimes. I tend to personalize everything I see, but in this case, all of these things, including the dirt are alive.
oh! two more replies to the neighborhood elist request. Irises are waiting to meet new friends - Maybe today I can pluck a few before dark.
Soon, the season for dirty work will be hibernating and I'll have to rely on soup making to keep me out of my own trouble. Until the clock ticks us into winter, I'm keeping my fingers dirty, though.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)