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Neither steel nor poison nor cherry blossoms
Hello.
I arrived back home from a gratifying baby-cuddling trip -- I will spare those of you who have no interest in cuddling babies the details, but it was most assuredly gratifying -- to find the entire state hidden under a gigantic dustbowl of a pollen blanket. I have never seen such billowing clouds of pollen just right out in the open air before. I sit under a tree at lunch and read, and I can actually see it in the still air, just floating casually around. My city looks as though it's participating in a city-wide car-washing strike (hooray for the allergen union!).
It gets on everything. It collects on my black pants and pools on my floors and scratches at the back of my throat and probably turns my snot green (but of course I wouldn't know about that).
And because it is the twenty-first century, I just take my daily doses of all those little chemicals which allow me to breathe this stuff without expiring, and I breathe without expiring and only sneeze and cough and sleep a little more, and I even make plans to garden on the weekend because I found some super-cheap azaleas and daisies and fashionable or no I have always wanted enormous banks of these flowers in my front garden and my god! I have a house! And unlike my plans to build houses from the ground up and eat nothing but fritos and cream cheese frosting for the rest of my life, and even given my talent for seeing plants to their most violent of all possible deaths, this is an entirely practicable plan, I think. And so if you happen to be driving down a certain street in Middle Georgia on Saturday and see a ponytailed redhead with a shovel looking completely confounded and outclassed by a bunch of one-gallon pots of innocent shrubbery, well, that's me. And. If you should see me, and you have some helpful advice to offer, feel free to offer it. I'm not proud.
I arrived back home from a gratifying baby-cuddling trip -- I will spare those of you who have no interest in cuddling babies the details, but it was most assuredly gratifying -- to find the entire state hidden under a gigantic dustbowl of a pollen blanket. I have never seen such billowing clouds of pollen just right out in the open air before. I sit under a tree at lunch and read, and I can actually see it in the still air, just floating casually around. My city looks as though it's participating in a city-wide car-washing strike (hooray for the allergen union!).
It gets on everything. It collects on my black pants and pools on my floors and scratches at the back of my throat and probably turns my snot green (but of course I wouldn't know about that).And because it is the twenty-first century, I just take my daily doses of all those little chemicals which allow me to breathe this stuff without expiring, and I breathe without expiring and only sneeze and cough and sleep a little more, and I even make plans to garden on the weekend because I found some super-cheap azaleas and daisies and fashionable or no I have always wanted enormous banks of these flowers in my front garden and my god! I have a house! And unlike my plans to build houses from the ground up and eat nothing but fritos and cream cheese frosting for the rest of my life, and even given my talent for seeing plants to their most violent of all possible deaths, this is an entirely practicable plan, I think. And so if you happen to be driving down a certain street in Middle Georgia on Saturday and see a ponytailed redhead with a shovel looking completely confounded and outclassed by a bunch of one-gallon pots of innocent shrubbery, well, that's me. And. If you should see me, and you have some helpful advice to offer, feel free to offer it. I'm not proud.
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I'm glad Operation:CuddleGracie was successfully executed. ♥
We have to talk Auntishness and visits and BSG!:O
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Oh, Amy, she is fabulous. It is a fine thing to be an aunt. :D:D:D:D
And we cannot talk BSG until I catch up! I've missed several weeks in a row. I am a bad, bad fan.
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OK, I will wait. :X MUCH TO DISCUSS HOWSOMEVER.
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Don't spend too much money on pots of daisies if they're Shasta. The things spread like wildfire and reseed like crazy. They're so amazing they have infiltrated my entire back lawn -- they will crowd out grass. Simply leave them some room and scatter a couple packets of seed around them. You'll have more daisies than you know what to do with next year. :)
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*_*
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I second the cosmos. There's nothing more satisfying than tall, vigorous flowers, they sprout more quickly than any other flower I know, and they reseed themselves freely. Zinnias would be nice, too, and Heavenly Blue morning glories are splendid as well.
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I've found that the perennial morning glories are really vicious power-seekers; they, along with that clock vine stuff, are the ones I always see climbing over entire buildings and up power lines. But I'll be darned if I can get the annual Heavenly Blue to get over its delicate flower self and cover even a good-sized fence. Maybe I'm doing something wrong!
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I agree about tall, vigorous flowers (and especially those that are light on the maintenance. They give us laypeople a chance, too.
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New England pioneers thought lilac bushes planted in the corner of the yard kept ghosts out.
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Forsythia! Now, Forsythia grows heartily in my part of the world; in fact, the next town up from us has an annual Forsythia Festival which takes place just before our Cherry Blossom Festival, and is in fact called Forsyth, after, well, guess what. But I shall listen to your strictures and not even think of them! :-x
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That pollen is unbelievable. I've never seen anything like it. Does it come from everywhere, or is there one particular THING that's churning it out like that? We get sycamore pollen that sometimes gets thick, but not thick like what you've got. That's just unreal.
I'm hopping the next Greyhound with my post hole digger (let's hope buses aren't as picky about carry-on luggage as airplanes are) to help you with the gardening. Are you going to throw some seeds out, too? My sister's been casually sowing handfuls here and there while she's been out toddling around with her 2-year-old, and already has pumpkin seedlings, tomato seedlings, baby cosmos and a giant nest of nasturtiums. Your house would look lovely blanketed in vigorous annuals! I love daisies and especially azaleas; our house gets too much sun for azaleas, but I admire them on shadier properties. I wish I hadn't spilled all my spitting cucumber seeds behind the stove, or I'd send you some.
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And I wasn't planning on making another Gracie post -- but I will tell you all about my visit, and just make this comment a little mini-post. :D
She is quite beautiful, and just getting to the age where she is alert and becoming aware of her body in space. You can put her on a blanket on the floor and she'll entertain herself by wriggling, but she loves it when you participate -- she especially loves when you move her feet around in a little air-dance. And she coos and sings to herself, and smiles a lot, and sleeps a lot, and spits up a lot, and eats and eats and eats, just like a baby should.
She's also a little bit fussy, for what my SIL believes is no particular reason but which I suspect is related to my SIL's belief that babies must be basked in heat, like reptiles. She insists on keeping the house temperature set at 78 degrees, and insists on dressing the baby in long-sleeved footed onesies, and as a result, the baby has a constant heat-flush. I'd be cranky sometimes, too. (As a matter of fact, I was feeling pretty cranky, when I couldn't sleep on the last night in Gracie's airless little bedroom -- I only felt better when I opened the window wide, but don't tell anybody!) Considering this, I think she's a remarkably placid baby.
And here is a picture we took on a walk. She's not really swinging, of course, but we thought it made a nice picture.
Note the anarchy sign scratched on the swing. She is my little punk rock girl.
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And speaking of your SIL, she and my sister should form a "hot baby" club. I was babysitting my 2-year-old nephew recently and decided to change him from his jammies to an outfit, and I swear, peeling him down to his diaper took 15 minutes because he was wearing so many layers. (2 pairs of socks AND footie pajamas? In California? With the HEAT on at night?) I'd have been opening the bedroom window right along with you. Arrgh.
I'm glad you had a good time and that Gracie was lots of fun, and I appreciate the trip report. I thrive on the details, you know. :D
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What is it with these people who seem to feel that babies don't become warm-blooded until later in life? One of my coworkers suggested that my SIL is probably the one who gets cold easily, and I think this is true -- but even C. doesn't wear footie PJs when the temperature in the house pushes eighty degrees. :/
Yay for thriving on details! I love telling you stories; I know you're always delighted to listen.
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