Sara gardens

Look, I made a... wait, I yarnbombed my dog

2011-12-16T15:36:00.000-05:00

Bucephalus developed a bump and a rashy-looking patch around his collar, which of course has the seams and the nastier part of the nylon stitching on the *inside,* so it will look nice. You can plug in one of my oft-told rants against fashion here, unless you're more in the mood for my original soundtrack to "Why is everything made like no one cares? Because you'd have to pay people to care." (Yes, I think people who make things should be paid.) So Bu's been running around naked in the park, and we get him there and back (and around the block for his other 3 walks each day) with the excellent Easy-Walk harness by Premier (its finishing stitching and seams are on the outside - nice).

And this has been fine, but if we ever did need a handle to pull Bu out of some form of canine stupidity, a collar would be a great choice. So I knit him up an irritant-free collar.

Thanks for the photo, Catherine. And dude, don't worry - no one wants the ball.

This actually seemed like a terrific idea right up until the part where I completed it on the dog, in the park, on a cold, windy day, in the presence of other dogs who thought it was part of a great new wrestling game. For that lovely seamless look, I grafted start and finish together using Kitchener Stitch, a technique in which I am not well versed, and which requires that I mutter the steps of each stitch under my breath, like some incompetent sorcerer's apprentice.

During that part it was clearly the single dumbest thing I'd thought up in a long time.

Now (he's asleep), it's looking like a pretty OK idea again. He has a very permanent collar, once I weave the ends in - which I'll do, as soon as he stops being anxious about the inordinate interest I've been expressing in his neck. We'll cut it off him when it gets too grungy. That will take a while - it takes a lot to gross out a dog. And he sure will look fetching for the annual Holiday Coffee and Keep the Dogs from eating the Donuts event tomorrow.

Mark your calendars!

2011-11-29T21:36:00.001-05:00

More reminding - you must come!

We are a joyful, newly formed band of voices, and we can't wait to sing this wondrous collection of wintry, Christmas-ish carols into the very vibrating air that YOU will be breathing, as you sit in the pews of the beautiful SFX Church. This is kind of my singing Dream Team (don't pinch me), and the repertoire is better-than-best.

Proceeds from this concert benefit the Brooklyn Conservatory Chorale - making possible scholarships, space rental, music purchasing, soloist hiring, and much more. Please join us - and you get to sing along with the carols at the end. Promise.

And if you're thinking that's not enough singing for you - please come to the Messiah Sing-Along *this very Sunday* at 4pm, at St. John's Episcopal Church (139 St. John's Place @7th Ave.)... donations will be collected to benefit CHIPS, to help restore their kitchen after the recent fire. Please come, please sing, please give (and if you have a Messiah score collecting, dust, bring that, too!)

Please imagine this photo, as taken by Tom L

2011-11-27T20:52:00.001-05:00

Gradually, I'm finding all these photos in my phone and thinking... what if someone else had taken this?

Here are a few more, including the face of my beloved, my niece about to be shot up in the Coney Island bungee thing (yeah, no, I can't tell, either - but I was there), and this one is especially for Tom, because (well, if you've seen his photos of rocks, leaves, water, shadow... you know why).

Note to self: learn to use the phone camera.

Ball is not lost

2011-11-26T20:53:00.001-05:00

Yes, that's the same dog. It's the same pose, in the same park. But look - it's a different leaf pile! This is a very, very good time of year for leaf piles. Leaf piles are very good for - doing that thing Bu does, in that same pose, day after day (see above).

The giant blue ball (what, you don't see it?) was a gift from a dog named Sasha, who cares only for tennis balls. I planned to give her this awesome tennis-ball gizmo that left Bu completely indifferent... but we have never seen Sasha (or her very nice human) before or since that day, years ago, when The Precious #1 entered our lives. It's recently been pointed out that at some point, the manufacturer might discontinue this item, and this would be a good time to stock up. In bulk.

It's available here - and those good folks also sell a squeeze-tube for high-paced treating (in case squeeze cheese is not your thing).

No idea why Bu is blue in this picture. And Sasha - we owe you one.

Happy day after

2011-11-25T21:07:00.001-05:00

Wow, that was just all so tasty and so sweet and so affectionate and generous-hearted and kind and fun. Cranberry sorbet, you're my new BFF!

Thanks to all our friends, neighbors, guests, and pets. And a big shout-out to my nephew Ben, who did all kinds of helpful things, requested and unsolicited. Who knows whether I could have done it without you? I'm just really, really glad I didn't have to.

I know many of you are not feeling this, but: can we all feel just a little sorry for Robert now? I know, he's in Costa Rica. But it's been raining a bunch, and he's been working on a project, not (mostly) surfing, beaching, or kayaking. And he didn't get to obsess about the food, or the wine pairings, or the proper turkey making method - and he didn't get to eat any of it. He'll be fine, really (and he'll be home very soon). But see how wistful he looks, in a sort of "Rembrandt painting left under the stairs a little too long" sort of way?

Miss you, RMo! And man, you missed a swell feast, a swell after-feast, and a few weeks of the most beautiful November days ever. Literally. Combined.

Travel safe home, spouse-y.

Neighbors - see you in the park, same pup time, same pup channel.

Menu hints

2011-11-21T23:55:00.001-05:00

The idea hamster that is me wants you to know everything on my mind for Thanksgiving. But even I cannot type that fast. Creating a glorious feast that's gluten-free, dairy-free, soy-free, and egg-free... well, frankly, I feel a little sorry for the folks that are relying on heavy cream to bail out their efforts.

Kath is bringing A Fabulous Dessert (hey, I don't question the master - let's just stand back and give her room). Her friend Kathleen will bring Brussels sprouts.

Sean is bringing Something Baked that will be awesome (see why I was voted "Least Likely to be Anyone's Favorite Pastry Chef"?)

Sheri will bring a green veg., kid-thrilling beverages, and cranberry sauce.

Here's what I'm most definitely making:

The turkey (duh!) - I know y'all think my husband can roast the hell out of a chicken. Whose poultry laurels do you think he was vying for, when he learned to do that? Salt will be involved.

Cauliflower couscous. That's right, you hack up a bunch of cauliflower (minus the tough stems, which are for the dog), and pretend it's couscous. Awesome. Flavor options are endless (watch this space for the winning flavor combo).

And right around here, it starts to get blurry... here are the other dishes I want to make:

Indian pudding! (After many grain-free months, I think corn deserves a seasonal moment.)

Cranberry sorbet... and I'm torn between making it as an adjunct to the Baked Wonders Sean & Kath will create, and doing it in a tangier version, as a frozen adjunct to the main meal.

Polenta cut in shapes (because Amy's gift of autumnal cookie cutters has been so life-altering, and I haven't even used them yet).

Smoked salmon fishcakes (great appetizer idea, right? plus, my 8yo friend Felix is a huge salmon fan).

Maple candy in shapes (see references to awesome cookie cutter references - or better, don't go back and see them, take my word for it). You basically cook maple syrup to hard-candy stage, with a hint of cream of tartar, and pour it into leafy shapes.

And here's what even I know isn't going to happen:

I swear, I had several items for this list. Oh, right - the butternut squash 'noodles' with the duck-liver-inflected, pomegranate-splashed, onion-y goo. That is, oddly the one recipe I have tried, and it was awesome. Better spend quality time in the kitchen lab tomorrow.

Et in terra pax...

2011-11-20T23:10:00.001-05:00

Wow, another giantly musical sort of day. Blowing big kisses to my fellow sopranos of the Chorale for turning around the mighty ship that is Bach, and sailing it in such a lovely direction.

(You are right: 'et in terra pax' isn't in the Bach; it's from the Vivaldi Gloria, in the case of this particular baroque program. But I'm real proud that this post isn't about the Annoying Freakin' Typo in our score, in which some genius misspelled '...hominibus bonae voluntatis' repeatedly. Way to chill out, inner control freak! Also proud that I let "real proud" stand.)

What about the pictures?

2011-11-19T23:03:00.001-05:00

Isn't that what you want to know? I want to know that, too.

But today was all about music, as it turns out. Please save the date: Brooklyn Voices, a chamber ensemble I'm wildly excited to be singing with, will have our debut concert December 18, 5pm, Park Slope. The performance benefits the Brooklyn Conservatory (and the Chorale), and will knock the Scrooge right out of your head with delicious carols from lots of centuries and traditions, plus gorgeous modern masterpieces of choral Christmas-ness.

Please come! (Spoiler alert - you get to sing along with carols at the end!)

Happy Birthday, Jeremy

2011-11-18T22:06:00.001-05:00

I wanted some stuff today: some spices, nuts and olives, warm tights, a new sieve, parsley, kitty litter... (all acquired); a bunch of other stuff (on notice, tempting slow cooker).

Then I read what Robert's friend Jeremy wants for his birthday, and I thought... perhaps this is what we all really want:

As the youngest in my family, I never had a problem getting older. Since Jacob died, my relation to my birthday has changed, however: I'm another year further from when I last held my boy. But I'm very, very lucky to have the privilege to work with and support incredible people who are dedicated to helping children with cancer. Put simply, working for Hope & Heroes Children's Cancer Fund helps give meaning to my experience.

In the end, though, I would not have made it this far without my wonderful wife and family - and all my friends. So, as my 47th birthday approaches, I'm asking you to give $47, or whatever you can afford, to Hope & Heroes.

Thanks so much!
P.S. The first five people who give $47 or more by midnight on 11/20/11 will receive a copy of my Best Of 11 CD in January - and it's been a very good year for music!

Please make a donation, and help Jeremy spread the word, and celebrate the gift that it is to give ourselves to each other, and specifically - to give away one's birthday. And please pass it on.

Of socks, and love, and rescue

2011-11-17T22:50:00.001-05:00

Cold hands, warm heart.

Cold feet - really scary/bad winter.

Please click and see the photo of a box of helium-lifted socks, uplifted by drafts and hope, and consider your own next move toward encouraging, heartening, or warming where needed.

Autumnal Bu amidst the ginkgo leaves

2011-11-17T11:32:00.001-05:00

At last, a dog photo where he is not grinning wildly, upon a greeny-grass background. Happy November, buddy...

Fear not, friends of Bucephalus - the Big Blue Ball is safe.

Two things (and then another one)

2011-11-15T23:06:00.001-05:00

Today is Clean Your Refrigerator Day. I started to get gung-ho, but I'll be celebrating that tomorrow - when I can put my trash bags out for the awesome Sanitation Department heroes of NYC. Y'all can imagine how much food I've thrown out this year, since the gluten crash (not to mention the dairy disaster). This is truly my kind of meaningless holiday.

More thrillingly, Mary met the phenom that is John 20 years ago. That is not only exciting because their relationship is old enough to vote, or because it's inexplicable that I've known Mary longer than John has, or because 20 is a round number ending in a zero.

And another one: I found a check on the ground in Fort Greene Park this morning. Then I Googled the recipient's (not-so-unusual) name, and found her at work. One search, one phone call. She didn't even know she had lost it yet. She asked me how I knew it was a check. Your bonus question: how did I know it was a check? (You can get extra credit on this one.)

Words to live by

2011-11-14T23:59:00.001-05:00

"Rage, world, and spring/attack - I stand here and sing, in utterly certain peace."

Go on, say that in the mirror a few times before you leave the house. Or better... sing it (~5:59):

Bach really means it.

I, for one, stand here and sing. Please join me.

Restraint

2011-11-13T22:45:00.001-05:00

We all have that experience where the awesome snappy comeback pops into our heads hours later. I also sometimes have so many snappy comebacks on the tip of my tongue, I scare myself. So, like, I'm walking my dog around the block, and a man walks by on our right, and says with deep disapproval, "Could you move your dog?" My on-leash dog is about 8" wide (yes, I measured). I am wider, but this is Washington Avenue. Plenty of room for my hips, and other life forms.

So here's what I didn't say:

"What's the magic word?"

"I believe that's pronounced "EXKYOOZE ME."

"Why, yes, I could - would you like me to?"

Quite honestly, I could go on like this at ridiculous length, but I am very excited that the whole thing didn't put me out of sorts and cause me to breathe fire, so I'm stopping now. And I'm going to sleep like a baby and never think of it again.

My dog, with his superior social skills, veered left out of Mr. Grumpy Pants's path in response to a slight hand gesture. Mr. G.P. presumably went on to disapprove of much else in the category 'Things on Feet."

Not even 15 minutes

2011-11-12T17:37:00.001-05:00

OK, not quite the media frenzy of my 2010 few-moments-of-fame...

Thanks to Catherine, who noticed that my orange pants are clearly visible up on the dog hill, early-ish in this NYT video homage to the Best Neighborhood Ever.

Thank you for your service

2011-11-11T17:00:00.001-05:00

Dedicating 11.11.11 to all who have served. I heard this morning that 9 out of 10 returning Iran and Afghanistan vets have had someone thank them for their service. Let's keep an eye out for the remaining 10%.

Special thanks to my parents. This one's for you, Mom:

Aerographer's Mate 1st Class, Mary C. Batts

Along with her patch & ribbon, that's a NY Times article dated May 23, 1943 (Waves Write Their Own 'Chanteys'). The caption: "High and dry, I need a guy to tie my tie" sing the Waves at their weekly broadcast called "Notes From the Lady Sailors." The variety show is produced by Waves, Spars and Marines.

Wow, Mom looks a lot like her granddaughter Olivia... right?

And watching over Connie here is CC Coco - she earned her 'CC' designation by serving as Connie's Cat Coco in my mother's final months. Thanks also to you, cat-who-served.

(Hoping myself to serve by song.)

Beyond yarn-bombing

2011-11-10T21:40:00.001-05:00

At a glance, you suppose you know why this speaks to me. But look again, and see all the other ways in which it speaks to me.

Let me count the ways. (1. I knew crochet was scary, but I didn't realize it was dangerous. Or thrilling.)

Quote for today

2011-11-09T23:22:00.003-05:00

Mary sent this quote. I'm dedicating today to my dog...

I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.

~ John Muir

...because this is what his thought-bubble would say, if we let him stay out till sundown. (Dog today looks just like this from Kath - or this from Kizz (see 3rd, goofiest), only with fall leaves, giant blue ball, and Fort Greene Park going on.)

So thanks, Bu, for this whole day of awesome - our earliest/longest park day, your least disruption participation at my piano lesson, and everyone you fell in love with during that last stroll around the block. (I got out some, too.)

What's for dinner?

2011-11-08T17:37:00.001-05:00

Tuesday used to be my on-my-own night for dinner. Then that got moved around, and before I got used to it, R went on his mission to be a guest-working code monkey in tropical paradise. So I'm applying Tuesday cooking rules - extra special, but also experimental. As some of you know, R has a rare, unnamed phobia: he is terrified his food might not be tasty. (I thought he was kidding, but he actually experiences the emotion 'fear' at the thought of eating something non-world-rocking.)

Some Tuesdays back, I julienned butternut squash, and added it to onions I had cooked pretty much to pieces in coconut oil, and splashed with a little pomegranate juice (which turned them a beautiful ruby color, and made them taste like magic).

It was actually better than pasta - but let's face it, I haven't had pasta since wheat tried to kill me. No, really - it was better than pasta, because it had flavor as well as texture, and it was orange.

Tonight, I'm going to make cut the squash wider, like pappardelle, and cook them in a little of the stock I made yesterday, and slurry in some duck-liver pate. That's right, yesterday I made a miraculous pate of duck liver, without dairy (of course), and I didn't even tell you about it.

And a salad. (If you've ever watched me make a salad, you know what an understatement that is. This time, pears may be involved.)

Let's get this baby off the ground

2011-11-07T23:54:00.002-05:00

That could refer to so many things, huh?

Here's a short list:

I'm flying the house solo. So far, so good! Second day of dog to park, plus three walks; cats fed (yeah, they say otherwise - trust me). There has been cooking, and taking out of trash, and laundry. (Yea, verily - e'en unto the laundry.)

The Bach did not crash and burn at this evening's rehearsal. I think we can, and will, achieve liftoff.

I am cruising both ends of the spring forward, fall back thing. Up early; not in bed yet. 'Splain me that!? This is the opposite of seasonal affective disorder (but it is disorderly, make no mistake, and I shall pay).

I could go on like this, and you know I will. Meantime:

Dear Everyone I Know, Please Save The Date for a Christmas concert to benefit the Brooklyn Conservatory: December 18th, 5pm, and you get to join in for carols.

And also.. December 4th, Messiah sing-along to benefit CHIPS homeless shelter, St. John's in Park Slope.

More pictures, soon - also, more singing.

Bon voyage!

2011-11-06T22:20:00.001-05:00

RMo flew to Costa Rica at the crack of dawn for a project - and barely made his flight, because the car service dispatcher offered the sweet airport fare to a buddy, who said he'd make the trip. But didn't. Meanwhile, some lower-ranking driving was sitting on his hands - by the time the 2nd-stringer was dispatched, R had waited 45 minutes.

11.6.11 is devoted to Robert, because when he gets to the airport perilously late, he gets an upgrade to first class. That's right - you or I might have been in a strip-search situation, or subject to a punitive lecture and 12-hour layover. It is good to be Robert - guest worker in paradise.

Miss you already, ligh-of-my-life!

Wow, runaway day!

2011-11-06T00:01:00.002-04:00

Dedicating 11.5.11 to Joanne... great to see you!

Without a recipe

2011-11-04T23:08:00.000-04:00

Have you ever thrown together a meal from back-of-refrigerator finds, forgotten pantry items, and whimsy, and had it turn out to be so wonderful that you wish you had written down the impromptu recipe, so you could do it again? Or - have you looked at a recipe or two, and then done what you guessed was a better idea, and it turned out you were absolutely right - but you don't exactly remember that better idea? I've done both of those - lots and lots of the second variety (which sounds a little like an inability to follow instructions - we're going to call that "not easily led," and make a virtue of it. OK?).

As it turns out, the real purpose of the Internet isn't what we've been told. Nor is the Internet made of cats (unless it is). The Internet was created for knitting, and is now almost entirely held together by beautiful knitting. (Sometimes tangled with cats - I'm sure you can find your own link illustrating this.)

I have barely dipped a toe into the miracle that is Ravelry - I hereby resolve that rectifying this shall be Resolution #1 of the end-of-garden-season resolutions (what, you don't make resolutions at the end of every gardening season?). If you don't knit, or want to - you don't have to worry about that, but if you do - meet me on Ravelry.

The ingredients for this adventure were some bulky yarn I had on hand, and our Montauk vacation just when knitting season popped up, with no time to shop for the perfect project. Seasoning (other than dog hair) was the thought - hey, it's almost Amy's birthday!

And inspiration, as so very often since I rediscovered yarn, comes from Knitty - I have obsessed over and tinkered with the amazing bounty of ideas and patterns and wisdom there, but never quite followed any pattern. This is greatly because I ~~am too ornery to follow patterns~~ like to make things up as I go along. (Once a crocheter told me that knitters don't do that, and crocheters do, I was pretty much doomed.) And maybe because some things seem harder than I had in mind, or don't quite suit the yarn I have on hand. In this case, I was in awe of Jeanie, but unsure whether I could pull it off (and certainly not in the bulky yarn in my suitcase)... and also not entirely over the Year of Short Rows - a knitting superpower I discovered in 2010 (I may need another resolution to move on - but short rows make knitting do non-flat, non-square things, and This Is Good).

The combination of cables, and dropped-stitch lace, and short-row shaping to make the whole thing curve had me really jazzed. I looked at the short rows + cables miracle that is Caireen - but had set my sights on working the other, Jeanie-like direction (edge to edge, not top edge to bottom). Oh, and I stopped doing the drop-stitch lace in the middle, so the cables cuddle together and keep the neck warm. See how I always try to squeeze in one idea too many?

However, like Caireen, this is a scarf/shawl hybrid, and it came out much better than I deserve. I know all sorts of things I'd do differently and better next time, if only I had done a better job writing down what I did this time. Amy says she wears it all the time, and I say she deserves to be cozy and warm (and I wish I had a pic of her wearing it).

Dedicating 11.4.11 to my LYS (that's Local Yarn Store, you gardeners and other non-knitters), with a promise to shop there for the next experiment along these lines.

A favorite plant for the shady kitchen garden

2011-11-03T22:24:00.001-04:00

I know, you thought I forgot about gardening. And plants. But that will never, ever happen.

I'm thinking about plants waaay out ahead.

I've already sown a few dozen big, fat seeds of the plant formerly known as Smilacina racemosa (taxonomy alert: now Maianthemum racemosum). But more is clearly better - so I'll seed these in the plant-lab tomorrow. They'll germinate in the spring, but we won't actually see them till the year after that. And some more years down the road, I have dreams of including juice or sauce on my (gluten-free) Thanksgiving table.

In the fullness of time, I am hoping for a beautiful, ruby-red wine from these berries. Meantime, the plant is riddled with garden virtues - May bloom, shade tolerance, amazing transformation from flower to berries that start out green and mottle into red... oh, and edibility!

11.3.11 is dedicated to Mary, whose woods sourced so many of the False Solomon's Seal plants now in my garden, and to Ellen - my hero of winemaking (and all things plant).

Let me introduce you to my little friend...

2011-11-02T21:57:00.000-04:00

She's perfect, isn't she? More on her another time (she is, of course, a rescue). Name suggestions welcome... 11.2.11 is dedicated to Michele, who rescued Ms. Wolf.

And: did you leave this scarf/wrap here? It's more lavender-gray than not, and light and cotton and summery. We fear you've been missing it for a long time.

Ms. Wolf wishes to draw your attention to the button necklace she's sporting - an unexpected hybrid from the button boxes of my mother and paternal grandfather. Pearls are nice, too.

Auspicious...

2011-11-01T21:01:00.006-04:00

Holy 11-ty first of '11 - it's November!

I'm going for a month of yes-ish, positive, yea-saying kind of month. Thomas Hood felt differently... and somewhere in this house is a lovely, purple-cloth-bound Oxford edition of children's poetry to prove it. Here it is, less beautifully illustrated, via Inter-cut'n'paste:

No sun--no moon!
No morn--no noon--
No dawn--no dusk--no proper time of day--
No sky--no earthly view--
No distance looking blue--
No road--no street--no "t' other side the way"--
No end to any Row--
No indications where the Crescents go--
No top to any steeple--
No recognitions of familiar people--
No courtesies for showing 'em--
No knowing 'em!
To traveling at all--no locomotion,
No inkling of the way--no notion--
No go--by land or ocean--
No mail--no post--
No news from any foreign coast--
No park--no ring--no afternoon gentility--
No company--no nobility--
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member--
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees.
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds.
November!

Dedicating 11.1.11 to my bro, who may or may not remember the poem (or the purple book, and also to Kizz...

And please stay tuned for more saramatopoeia all November long!

(Promise, all the rest after this will make sense. Till/unless they don't.)

Even less garden-related

2011-10-17T16:44:00.004-04:00

I can't really explain this, but I am pretty sure that hand-knit underpants will be as wonderful as hand-knit socks are reputed to be (and I mean to find out about that first-hand, too). These are fresh off the needles, just out of the laundry-spa treatment, and I shall be test-driving them at once.

It's a cotton-linen blend, because that's what I had enough of for a reckless experiment. You have already noticed that the 'right' side of the stockinette stitch is facing the interior, because it should be slightly comfier and less waffle-impression-giving that way. The cables around the edges look great - not sure how we'll they'll work in practice. Queuing up my next pair in a cotton/wool blend - should be lighter and springier. (And I have enough of it for a slightly more informed, less reckless experiment.)

And no, I haven't been knitting exclusively since last you've read here. But thanks for asking.

We did it!

2008-01-27T14:47:00.000-05:00

Robert and I signed up for the 24-hour Short Story Contest at writersweekly.com. At 1pm yesterday, we received our "topic" and max word count (which was just 1,000 words - can you imagine, a chatty gal like me?). Just before 1pm today, we emailed our entries. (And just after that, my computer restarted for no reason at all, so right after that Robert was forced into his "tech support for life"role.) Mine was 999 words, R's shorter. We didn't skip meals (as if!) or stay up all night. I didn't know what to make of the topic at first, but working to include its elements made all sorts of things happen in the story that wouldn't otherwise have occurred to me.

It was oddly exhilarating. And then we had lunch.

Can hibernation truly be over?

2008-01-25T16:14:00.003-05:00

Oh, blog and kind visitors, thank you for your patience. I was just about to declare that I wasn't going to recite my little tale of upgrade woes and hardware/software issues, when my browser closed in the middle of my unsaved post. But I'm still not going to talk about it. Let's skip right to "plant choices," and hope for the technical best.

Here's a "special" Hamamelis vernalis in my front yard - it's 'Purpurea' (or maybe var. purpurea):

Pretty exciting that something's blooming in chilly late January, but visually, not something that makes us want to do backflips, is it? (No one asked why I was taking pictures of a dead plant, but a couple of passers-by did a double-take that I'm sure meant precisely that.) For one thing, it's looking more like straight-up H. vernalis than like anything purplish. Which is actually a slight improvement, as the purply-brown flowers it bore the last few years used to blend even more completely into the purply-brown stems. This is the first year the leaves have persisted this late. Maybe they're sad the fall foliage display never really happened? My front garden is given over (almost) exclusively to native plants, and increasingly to native plants with uses - preferably edible uses. This plant is native, but I think it would be happier with steadier water than I can provide there, and maybe a little more sun.

If I had more room, our fall-blooming H. virginiana would be a spectacular choice - that's where witchhazel, the stuff you buy in drugstores, comes from. And of course, it does its glory thing late, which is just as exciting as early. And it's arguably showier, though neither is as glamorous as some of the popular hybrids (like 'Arnold's Promise') - they're all descendants of Chinese witchhazel, H. mollis. Here's that flashy thing blooming (on your birthday, Ellen!) last week, at NYBG:

Did I mention all these witchhazels are fragrant, each in a different way? I actually started this post to warn the plant-besotted against getting all sidetracked by "special versions" of plants, and I was thinking it was time for my poor H. vernalis to move on and make room for something else. The container blueberry bushes look far more dramatic, with their bare red stems, than this poor thing in full bloom (and so very edible). But now I'm not so sure. I'll have to give it the scent-test in the next few days, when it warms up a little. And wait till spring, in any case.

And speaking of passing seasons - we are watching our beloved Kozskat's accelerating decline with a loving ache. At 17, she's still herself, if a little more addicted to heat sources, like my desk lamp. Please click on her, and think of her kindly. There's not much to do for her, and we are sad, but surprisingly not afraid.

New foliage, at this time of year...

2007-12-12T08:47:00.001-05:00

I've been worrying about this Leucothoe fontanesiana, throwing up this beautiful new foliage at such an iffy time of year (this picture's from the week after Thanksgiving) . The cultivar is 'Scarletta,' but this is the first year I've seen this dramatic color in the new leaves. Laurie bought this plant for its graceful, drooping shape and glossy evergreen leaves. When I told her I thought it would cook in her west-facing front boxes, she gave it to me (thank you, Laurie). I was right that it hates hot afternoons; when our mighty oak came down, I had to move it to a shadier, morning-sun spot. It's spreading and trailing slightly over our stone wall. And the foliage is holding up to the beginnings of wintry weather... so far.

New question: seedheads

2007-12-06T10:15:00.001-05:00

Mary's wondering what to do with her Black Eyed Susans:

I love the seed heads, like black q-tips as I look out onto the garden through the winter...must I remove these, 'cuz I sure don't want to. Since I don't remove, is this making for less than FABULOUS flowers? I also think they just need to be thinnned by ripping out some here and there and planting down the street in a wasteland? Yes?

Deadheading during the bloom season may make the plant bloom (even) longer. Cutting off the last of the flowers before seeds form may make it more vigorous next year - it takes plant energy to make seeds. But at this point, they're dormant.

Reasons you might want to remove them: to stop them from seeding in all over the place; for neatness; to do some work now that you don't feel like doing in spring. But you don't want to - for the reason that you want to look at them (this is an even better reason than "don't feel like it," and that's legimate, too).

You can rip some out and throw them in your wasteland down the street - we call that dividing, and it will make your planting more vigorous. Spring or fall would be best, but as you may recall, I took my black-eyed-susans out of your garden in July and left them in my hot car before planting them. They still bloomed till Thanksgiving that same year.

In nature, the only seedhead removal that happens is whatever the birds eat, plus whatever dries up and blows away between now and spring. I hope this makes you feel better about doing nothing - often a fine choice.

p.s. I think it's fine to post questions in comments. I'm pulling them into a new post to answer, for folks who don't read down to the last drop in the land of comments.

2007-12-03T20:05:00.000-05:00

What could be more wonderful than an email entitled ‘Propagation question’? Mary asks,

Can we propagate Jack-in-the-Pulpit with the red seeds we have? John is most curious, I'm just hoping for more through some method not involving human intervention.

The answer is: Yes, you can, and be careful with those red berries (the white seeds are inside). Like many fruits, they contain an enzyme to inhibit germination (no point germinating inside the fruit, or inside of an animal or bird who eats the fruit - plants are clever). But Arisaema berries also contain calcium oxalate crystals, which really burn. So wear latex or rubber gloves to clean the seed from the pulp. You can sow outside now or in spring. You'd probably get a lower germination rate than you would if you sow indoors with coddling, but I assume coddling is the sort of human intervention you want to avoid. If you're sowing indoors, soaking them for a day or two might speed germination.

They are slow from seed - the first year you get one leaf (and not the typical leaf). The second year, expect typical foliage, but no bloom. If all goes well, you'll have flowers the next year, but probably no berries (male flowers only). But they will get there. You can also divide them - your patch is pretty established. Divide in fall rather than disturb 'em in spring. I divided by accident, when I dumped out a pot I thought had nothing in it, and found the dormant corm and its little offsets.

The Connecticut Botanical Society has beautiful photos, including one showing off the berries.

Our anniversary

2007-12-03T19:10:00.001-05:00

This would have been a good occasion to learn how to use my camera's timer. But no time! We were off to our fabulous lunch date. Truth is, we go out to dinner pretty often, on our own and socially. Super-premium lunch dates... how often do those come along? We thought of it spontaneously (and simultaneously) this morning, and of course we went to our old friend, the Union Square Cafe. And there we ate some of our favorite things on the menu, and some new wonderful things on the menu, and it was glorious.

The romantic lunch date is just one gem I've learned from Robert in 11 great years of marriage. The collected wisdom could fill a book (if I title it "How Not To Eat Like My Husband," it's a sure self-help bestseller). Back to garden and plant topics tomorrow... and remember, invite your beloved to an exceptionally wonderful lunch, soon.

2007-11-29T12:34:00.000-05:00

You think you don’t care about seedheads, I’ll bet. You like flowers, and maybe fragrance, and certainly fall color. (Yes, you’re nodding, you love fall color! Very good.) Here’s Vernonia noveboracensis, many weeks after finishing its long, late bloom. Nice, yes?

I’m not in a hurry to cut this back – it’s still tall and stately, and I haven’t had a lot of seeding in from this plant in my front garden. (I think this is because the seed wants to fly away on the wind, and if it flies more than a few feet it will hit the sidewalk.) So when you read in garden books that you must cut everything back, please remember – it’s a matter of when you prefer your work, and which consequences you’re avoiding. (More on this in spring, when I no doubt will regret at least a few of the chores I’m leaving undone this fall.)

And speaking of other ways to be beautiful at this time of year, would anyone care to hazard a guess what this is? It's a bit of a trick question (that's a hint, and an apology). There will be prizes.

Still-glorious autumn

2007-11-28T16:16:00.000-05:00

Oh, sure, you’re tired of me telling you about all the wondrous plants with those end-of-season virtues you don’t care about. Well, how’s your garden, this week after Thanksgiving? True, my Amelanchier foliage display is done, and the Fothergilla gave up all but a few last glowing leaves in Monday’s rain.

But see the plant formerly known as Aster cordifolius,* the one you think too dull for your garden? Still blooming. Don’t those pale blue stars make a spectacular contrast with the wine-red blueberry foliage, and the divine gold of Clethra alnifolia? The Clethra that was so deliciously fragrant for weeks in later summer (note seedheads)?

*Taxonomy alert: they renamed all the North American asters. This is done for good scientific reasons. Not because using the word Aster for both common and scientific names makes life too easy for regular folks. The asters (from Greek, meaning star, via Latin) were a happy oasis in a plant world full of lilies that aren’t lilies, violets that aren’t violets, palms that aren’t palms. Luckily, it’s easy and fun to learn scientific names! And the more names you learn, the more names you can learn. Repeat after me, Tyrannosaurus rex! I knew you could do it. Now try: Symphyotrichum cordifolium. (“Commonly” pronounced blōō wŏŏd ās'tər.)

Mad about saffron

2007-11-27T18:40:00.001-05:00

Our friend Hassan gave us this beautiful Iranian saffron when he visited back in – oh, it was so long ago. We recently cooked with it for the first time (because we thought we’d misplaced it, but it was in the spice rack all along). Now we’re torn between using it every meal and hoarding it so it lasts forever. It’s painfully expensive – it takes 75,000 crocus blooms to make a pound of the spice*, and harvest involves plucking three stigmas from each of those blooms by hand. Don’t reach for your calculator – I know you only use about an ounce of saffron a year, so I have done the math for you. You’d only need 4687.5 blooms! And a certain amount of back-breaking labor to plant all those bulbs.

Let’s grow it anyway. Crocus sativus is beautiful, blooms in fall, produces something delicious – a no-brainer Sara-plant, for sure. It has known uses in treating depression, preventing cancer, enhancing mental function, and lowering high cholesterol. I missed my chance to plant them this fall, but have already marked my 2008 calendar to make sure I order some for early fall planting. Those who know me well are permitted a little gasp about the advance planning, but no snickering.

Do not confuse with Colchicum, a.k.a meadow saffron or autumn crocus, also called naked ladies. I know that sounds exciting, but it's quite poisonous (though still a useful plant - a derivative is still used to treat gout, in synthetic form). Another great fall-blooming bulb. Make a note in your 2008 calendar, maybe?

Brent and Becky's Bulbs is one good source: this image is theirs, and shows how much fun we'll have harvesting each delicate stigma from a 4-6" plant. http://www.brentandbeckysbulbs.com

Bring kneepads or beer, help with planting or harvesting, share recipes. I'm thinking 100 bulbs. Don't plant a dozen of these - a dozen bulbs this size, even in a tiny urban garden, is just a hiccup.

*Perhaps true, but like "72,000 ladybugs to a gallon," it sounds like a fake-science way of saying sooooooo many.

November in my heart

2007-11-14T15:18:00.002-05:00

Amelanchier - at least kicking into its full fall glory. It's my dream tree (so I planted three of them). Its June berries aren't just "edible" - they make it all the way to "delicious" (eaten out of hand, in pies, as jam - best ever was the sorbet I made with my friend Ellen). As she says, few trees give as much. The berries attract birds if you don't finish them all yourself. The little white-star blooms in April lift the heart in the nick of time. And this fall color felt a little late this year - but worth waiting for, yes? The trip from green through gold to flame and crimson is the glory of my garden, and fall is my garden's glory season.

I've made my garden so autumn-glorious to fight the feeling of decline that comes with darkening days. This year the glory feels more like loss. On November 2, we lost our heart-dog, Emmett. He was the sweet center of our home and our days.

Our friend Kath took a last picture of him:

His illness was very brief. We miss him.

spring wonders, on the way

2007-03-06T14:33:00.000-05:00

Did you ever wonder what must have been growing in our Brooklyn backyards long, long before Brooklyn was divided up into backyards?

The trees that once shaded our little squares of garden are long gone, but many plants that once graced the forest floor can thrive in the shade of the buildings that have sprung up in their place. In early spring, these ephemeral wonders bloom before the trees leaf out, photosynthesize like mad, and then often go dormant till the following year.

One of the first to bloom in Sanguinaria canadensis, our native Bloodroot. Its native range is huge, covering the whole eastern U.S. It's fascinating and extraordinary and wonderful, and not at all hard to grow (and people encountering Bloodroot for the first time always ask, "what's that?").

Its spring arrival is a wonderful drama:

There's a double form available, which is stunningly beautiful, but there's something magic about the water-lily flowers of the straight species, floating above the leaves, which continue to expand toto soak up all the sun they can once the short-lived blooms are spent. The double flowers last longer, but spread more slowly - they're sterile.

The trout-lilies come a little later - and have lots of names, including fawn-lily, glacier lily, and dog-tooth violet (which makes some sense for the European species, which is pinky-purple - all species of a dog-tooth under

A January spring

2006-01-23T20:38:00.000-05:00

The bulbs are coming up all over, which is weird. And the witchhazel is starting to bloom, which is not.