Summertime Sound Bites: Curious Cat in a 'Lunch Pail Tree'

With food prices ever increasing, SAM and I have been working on turning our landscape into more of an edible one. As part of that effort, the Loropetalum tree--not edible as far as I know but too beautiful to cut down--that shades the front porch now holds pots of herbs. Can you spot the Cuban oregano (Plectranthus amboinicus) in one of them? Not a true oregano, also called Indian Borage, it has large variegated leaves, is very aromatic, and tastes wonderful in just about any dish that calls for oregano. I purchased it earlier this year at a Santa Rosa County Master Gardener plant sale. After watching its vigorous habit in a pot, I'm not about to turn it loose in the landscape. It might get carried away and cover everything in sight with its aromatic self, at least until freezing weather knocks it out. It's more suited for much warmer climates. 

The Loropetalum might as well be called the Lunch Pail Tree now. Remember that unusual tree in Frank Baum's story Ozma of Oz (you might have seen it in the film Return to Oz)?  It seems that Peanut the cat would agree that lunch is right at hand, only it's not herbs she has a taste for. The mockingbirds attracted to our edible landscape delight in taunting her. Now I'm not encouraging her to "thin their herd," but I won't discourage her from putting the Fear of Gardener into them.

Shortly after we moved back here, I noted that the local mockingbird population had exploded. We had already made great progress on the edible landscaping with the addition of blueberry bushes and plum trees a few years ago, and then pear and persimmon trees were planted shortly before we moved away. A few weeks ago, I told Peanut that I would be very disturbed if all of our work were fruitless on account of the birds. At least this time, she must have been paying attention to me.

Old as Dirt? Get Yourself Some New Soil, 'Dig'?

You've probably heard the expression "old as dirt." Since true soil or "dirt" is mostly weathered rock with some well-rotted plant material mixed in, you can understand why that expression came into being. Now Florida doesn't have much weathered rock or soil, but it does have a lot of sand, as you can see just beyond the boundary of the vegetable garden. The veggies in my garden this year consist of a few scatter-planted green beans, some cucumbers, onions, tomatoes mostly in pots, and various herbs for seasoning everything. Since we moved back in mid-March, I didn't have enough time early in the spring to properly prepare the ground for summer planting. I needed some real dirt real quick, or the garden would fail just as miserably as in years past.

Our decision to attend church at the same place we used to go when we first moved here proved to be more fruitful than I could have imagined. Thanks to good friend and fellow gardener with a business, Cliff Martin, we now have some real dirt. He "makes" the stuff himself with mostly cotton seed hulls and other organic goodies. He won't give me the exact recipe for it, but maybe if I come up with an interesting name? It certainly could be Cliff's Compost Heaven.

I decided to conduct some very unscientific testing on the dirt by adding it to the front half of the garden, the part you can see first as you walk by. Just a few weeks have passed since those handfuls of dirt were casually pitched at the plants, and you can easily see how vigorously the plants have grown. The Homestead onions (another one of Cliff's specialties) have really shot up, and I've harvested several pounds of beans already from this tiny plot.

So what about the back 40 (inches or so) of the garden that didn't receive the good dirt? The plants are puny, the leaves are yellow, and the beans are not as bountiful on this side.

The beans aren't the only lucky plants to receive Cliff's Organic Wonder Soil. This Floradale tomato in a pot--purchased at a plant sale from another plantsman, our pastor/PSC math professor--received a top dressing of the good stuff. I had already potted it in some garden variety garden soil before we got a truckload of Cliff's Miracle Mix. If it sounds like I'm thrilled with this new dirt, I am, strange as it may seem. Even an old-as-dirt gardener like me can "dig" some new soil.

Schwarmerei or Wrought Irony?

It might not look like it here, but Peanut the cat is exhibiting a severe case of Schwarmerei ("extravagant enthusiasm," the losing word in the 2012 National Spelling Bee). She is usually more demonstrative, but it's about 6 p.m. in this picture, and her action has run down for the day, I'm sorry to say.

She prefers a little morning light to be shed on her behalf. I'd say it's preferable to what she sheds on our behalf. Cat hair is everywhere to be found on the new tile floor. But it blends in quite well with the new color scheme, don't you think?

SAM chose the flooring, and it's no surprise to me why he picked this particular color and style: Now that he's working from home, he and I share the cleaning chores--it's so easy to overlook those hair balls lurking underfoot...

and there's a piece of picture sandstone placed prominently on the great room wall near the front door. That piece of rock is not the only geological feature in this house.

SAM's rock garden has outgrown its former, more humble home (seen here and in the second pic in this post, way at the back, where it holds my German china).

SAM is not particularly Schwarmereic when it comes to gardening outside, but he did design the tropical garden where we buried all of that exhausted cardboard.

It's funny how things have turned out: I'm now working away from home, building my massage practice. SAM's become quite adept at garden design and cleaning the house, among other things. The rocks have a nicer home than my china. Age before beauty, I guess.

Something's Afoot in Northwest Florida: Reflexology and Armadillos

If sailing ships could sail the sea,
And sails were not required,
The term itself for sailing ships
Would have to be retired.

A trip to Tallahassee this weekend for a FSMTA sponsored reflexology workshop at Core Institute proved useful for learning in more ways than one:

1. Who knew there are more ways for treating the body through the feet than there are excuses for not drinking enough water?
2.  Did you realize you're supposed to drink an amount of water (in ounces) equal to one-half your body weight per day? If you fall short of that amount, your vital organs steal moisture from the fascia and muscle tissue in your body to keep functioning properly. Poor ol' fascia and muscle have to limp along like a car engine without enough oil for lubrication. Don't forget that the heart is made of muscle tissue. No wonder I felt dog-tired walking those hills at Lake Tallavana after attending the workshop. 
3. Vacant houses soon become home to various forms of wildlife. Nature bounces back quicker than a dehydrated massage therapist can write a simple blog post. The old brain must suffer too. This post has taken longer to finish than it takes a family of armadillos to take over an empty shed. 
4. Armadillos are capable of spreading leprosy, but no cases of armadillos passing the disease on to Floridians have yet occurred or at least been reported. If they had been, an all out war against armadillos would surely be declared. Who would want to be half the man or woman he/she used to be? If you have no idea what I'm talking about, then you're too young to have heard some version of the leprosy song (lyrics to the tune of the Beatles' song Yesterday). If only leprosy could be one of those terms that would have to be retired.

A Happy Ending for Pecan Shells in My Garden

When we lived near Havana (pronounced Hay-Vanna), Florida, surrounded by acres of pecan groves, I never gave much thought to what happens to those shells that pecans (pronounced Pee-Cans) give up for the sake of pecan pie eaters and fanciers of other sweet Southern delights like pralines. Now I know.

They become mulch for consumers of another sort--the gardening kind. We had a couple of pickup truckloads delivered right to our yard a few weeks ago. The guy selling the stuff had an ad on the Pensacola Craigslist site. He said he has a contract with the Renfroe Pecan Company to pick up all of their spent shells. Way to go, pecan-shell guy! That's using your noggin. Find a company with a useful waste product, help them dispose of it, and make some money on the deal. He told us that we got the last two loads of the stuff. His girlfriend was real happy to see it go away as she can park her car once again in their driveway. I'm happy, she's happy, pecan-shell guy must be happy now that she's happy, and (best of all) the plants are happy. It's just a happy ending all around.

Burying the Past--A Cardboard Box Base for a Tropical Garden

"We were in April then: the weather was sweet and warm, the grass as green as showers and sun could make it..." (from Nelly's account of Heathcliff's last days above ground in Wuthering Heights)

Life grows sweeter when a difficult past is given a proper burial. We certainly hope that's the case with this new tropical style garden we are constructing in the backyard. Cardboard boxes from many moves over the past several years have been laid to rest as a base. It's a little eco-friendly trick I learned from working with the Gardening Friends of the Big Bend on the Demonstration Garden at NFREC in Quincy, Florida. The cardboard helps prevent or at least slows the growth of weeds, especially when it's covered with pine straw and other mulch. I prefer recycling cardboard to spending a lot of money on expensive ground fabric.

Secret Aging Man did the dirty work of removing the sod so that I could arrange the plants, lay the cardboard, and spread pine straw and cypress mulch to cover the whole bed. The triple-trunk palm was left by the former tenants. I'm not sure what kind of palm it is, but I have learned it's good to keep some distance between it and my skin. Another thorny plant! It serves to replace a large windmill palm that the tenants moved from the front yard and subsequently killed, either by neglect or the shock of moving it. We burned those palm remains along with some other yard debris a couple of nights ago.

Rain is falling as I write this post, washing new ashes and old regrets deep into sandy soil. It nourishes and settles the new plants we've added to our tropical garden here in subtropical Northwest Florida.

Happy Earth Day 2012!