Where Are the Radishes?

According to the seed packet, these radishes mature in 22 days. I planted them March 31, so there should be radishes now, right? Nope, not yet. What's the deal?

They live here, I just visit

With bee colonies disappearing, I feel lucky to have this visitor to the lemon tree.


While I was stalking the bee, I spied this less welcome visitor. Still, it's beautiful perched here, so high in this thorny tree.

I uncovered a whole salamander colony when I relocated some wooden planters. This was one of the littlest ones...

...and this is one of the biggest ones. I discovered several of these large spotted ones. Pausing only long enough for me to admire it's spots and snap a picture, it vanished with its companions under the iris patch.

First I thought this was a centipede, but I learned on What's That Bug that they have only one pair of legs per body segment, therefore this is a millipede because there are two pairs of legs per segment. According to the site, millipedes sometimes eat seedlings, but mostly eat decaying matter and help break down debris. So, carry on millipede, but stay away from my seedlings, okay?

The Zen Sunflower

Shane with future sunflowers on her hands

In April, we cannot see sunflowers in France, so we might say the sunflowers do not exist. But the local farmers have already planted thousands of seeds, and when they look at the bare hills, they may be able to see the sunflowers already. The sunflowers are there. They lack only the conditions of sun, heat, rain and July. Just because we cannot see them does not mean that they do not exist.
- Thich Nhat Hanh

Red-winged Blackbird

Twirping madly, this little man wanted some attention! He was resting on the fence at the parking area of a nature preserve near my work. I have just recently begun driving a different route home, passing this park. I've been thinking, "I should pull in there." And finally, I did, and was boisterously greeted...
by the bird as well at the California poppies.

The guy in the tree

 

I love this tree outside my classroom. I've tried fruitlessly for years to name it; I just can't come up with anything worthy. My students call it "the guy in the tree." Do you see the profile of the face?

Katie, chill!

A perfectly executed chill command--Katie's got this one down pat!

It's back to school time for Katie. She's got impeccable manners, but chooses to "think about it" when asked to sit.

This class is more rigorous than the ones we took over summer. Mr Hands and I dubbed the head trainer "the Dragon Lady." Katie likes her, but she scared the hell out of us! Now that first impressions are done, "Dragon lady" has been revealed as what she really is--a gruff, no-nonsense lady with a heart of gold. I guess Katie knew it all along! But the name's gonna stick.

Garden Projects, redux

This is the planter box that all other planter boxes wish they could be!

Lovingly and cleverly made by Mr Hands.

I'm dabbling with the square foot method, so Mr Hands made this nifty grid to keep things tidy.


More a planting bed on a raised platform, veggies and herbs (and a few flowers, too!) will thrive in this sunny spot.

P.S.--this shade of green paint was agonizingly chosen to match the iris patch near by. The top photo shows off best how close we came!

Bush lilies in bloom

This clump of bush lilies was damaged by our unusually frosty January temperatures, but has rebounded spectacularly!

First Iris of the Year

 

Keeping Us Humble--Thanks Mr. Clemens!

The first of April is the day we remember what we are
the other 364 days of the year.
- Mark Twain

Becoming an Iris Blossom

 

There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud
was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
- Anais Nin

No one noticed this?

Ever the English teacher...where's my red pen? Take a closer look at the word "Virginia."

And what's with the rope?

(Oops, Mr Hands says the rope is the net. He kind of said it in a tone, too. Hmmm, I guess if I'm going to have a proof-reading superiority complex he can rub my nose in the fact that I was too lazy to use any context clues what so ever.)

Trying to Get a Handle on the Hostas

I'm just thrilled to see these hostas emerging from their bare root beginnings. Gosh, they even seem to be thriving! This is my first hosta experiment, and I guess I always felt a little snobby about them. They seem to be the last resort plant for impossibly shady corners. Well, guess what? I have an impossibly shady corner. Only, it's not always shady, and I can't seem to get the hang of what's going on there.

The heliotropes did dismally last year but the azaleas did great. So I added two azaleas, but now the spot seems too sunny. I've started covering one azalea (my star performer last year) with a shade cloth during the day. Maybe later in the season when the birch tree leafs-out there will be more protection. My sun journal where I track the amount of sun in different areas in my yard isn't helping. I think I need to track more often so I have an early season and a mid-season picture of what's going on light-wise. Also, I haven't been tracking temperature, so cool-shade versus warm-shade may be more of an issue than light.

Either way, I hope these hostas make it.

The Seedlings' New Digs

Germinated seeds need somewhere to go once they have been released from their, and suddenly the "no big deal" aspect of seed-starting becomes an ordeal. Necessity being the mother of invention and all that led me to concoct this sad greenhouse facimile:

And it worked!

But in a lovely serendipitous turn of events, my mom surprised me with this beauty:


Look, everybody's already started to move in:

I'm going to pick up a thermometer to see just how warm it gets in there, because when I unzip the plastic tarp in the mornings, it feels plenty toasty to me! The only things these seedling don't have going for them are lullabies at night!

An Argument Lost

Here's a typical conversation I hold each time I pass the seed display in a home center, nursery, or even the grocery store:

"Look! Seeds!"

"You don't do seeds."

"Oh, here's some radishes. Wow, what a quick germination rate. And here's lettuce and chard. There are loads of different varieties. They're supposed to be fool proof."

"That would depend on the fool..."

"Carrots--those would be nice. And they fit into the category of "Vegetables Mr. Hands Will Eat."

"Shane, please..."

"Sunflowers--even school children grow these in styrofoam cups for Pete's sake. How hard could that be?"

"Is your memory so short? Sunflowers lured every slug in town to your yard last summer."

"An heirloom mix of zinneas. Those were my surprise all-stars in the garden last year. This could be great!"

"Seeds require seed-starting paraphernalia. You don't have seed-starting paraphernalia. You don't have space for seed starting-paraphernalia. Heck, you don't even have a sunny window the cats haven't already claimed."

"A little vermiculite, some old six-pacs or 4-inch pots--I've got those lying around--what's the big deal? That can't be a big deal."

"Germination, transplanting--this is going to be a nightmare."

"I'll keep it low key, there won't be much to transplant."

"Dangers from birds, slugs, frost--your, umm, kind of gardening isn't geared toward tender transplants."

"I'm nurturing! I can nurture!"

"Stop, please, don't buy those seeds."

"It'll be fine. An experiment, but it'll work out, you'll see."

Mind you, this conversation is with myself. And, I'm fairly embarrassed to say, I lost the argument. I bought seeds. Carrots and radishes and lettice and sunflowers (2 types!) and bachelor buttons and calendula and zinnea. There may be more, but that's all I'm admitting to just now.

However, I managed to germinate seeds! Yes, I used all of the breakfast bar surface area in the kitchen, and most of the baking sheets, pie tins and baking dishes as saucers for my vermiculite-filled containers. I nearly got myself into trouble on a regular basis by leaving for work late because I was busy fussing with the seeds, moving them from the breakfast bar to the patio table each morning. But the moment those spindly green wisps launch themselves vertically out from the grit, I have to admit, it's a damn miracle, and it was all worth it.

These days I've been nervously transplanting the seedlings into soil and of course can barely keep up. There have been a few tragedies--roots remaining implanted in the vermiculite whilst my thumb and forefinger are left grasping only tender leaves, and transplants that refused to thrive once tucked into their soily beds. But I can't wait for the next step--to the garden! Either into the wobbly new planting area or Mr. Hands' heftily fortified raised vegetable box they will go, but either way, it's a whole new adventure in my garden.

Vernal Cats

Looks like spring, smells like spring, feels like spring...

Violas: Patient Zero?

This six pack of violas sat untended on my potting bench for several days while the raised planting bed was being contructed. Good thing, too, because it turns out they are infested with aphids! A methodical washing of each transplant before going into a "quarantine pot" for observation will hopefully take care of the problem. This is awfully early in the garden season for triage measures--I hope this isn't a harbringer of things to come. I've doubled up on the cilantro planted around the strawberry plants just in case.

More Garden Projects

What garden project can be accomplished with the three tools displayed here?



One only-slightly wobbly raised planting bed:

Mr. Hands assumes the curve and general lack of straightness is due to at least one of the garden tools. I assure him the culprit is simple novice-ness. But I still think it's nifty.

Garden Projects (must be spring!)

Mr. Hands has been hard at work on his garden project. First dismantling a deck built by the previous owners, something which neither Mr. Hands nor I could ever fathom the use for, he then cleared out and leveled the area. Next is the construction of a raised planter box for vegetables and a seating area.

My garden project is nearly done, too. Pictures will follow soon, don't you doubt it!

Duck--Dog--Goose

I had the bright idea a few days ago that I could bike to the dog park with Katie in her cart. Yes, the ride was a bit longer than I expected, and the headwind along the marsh near the bay was stronger than I expected, and the bike trail didn't quite lead me to where I thought the dog park would be, but we got there in the end and it was a fun adventure nonetheless.

First, we saw ducks swimming on Steven's Creek:


which Katie thought was extremely interesting:

Then a very pretty goose in the neighbor's yard:

which Katie didn't think was any big deal: