The Unvarnished Truth About Gardening

Argiope aurantia, way past her prime, off the Web, with chamberbitter weed in the foreground

In the midst of some volunteer work today, I had a lively, you might even say tit-for-tat, discussion with someone I'm not likely to associate with in the non-volunteer realm. Why should we be so far apart? Well, for starters, we come from opposite ends of the political spectrum. And what brought us two disparate souls together? Gardening, of course. We both have a passion for it, you see, though we sometimes find that passion difficult to reconcile with our diametrically opposed points of view. Or, maybe not. Death, you see, is the great equalizer. We dance around the subject, as delicately as we can. But there it is. You can't escape it, and neither can I. And so we joke and dance as long as we can-can. And then, we go our separate ways.

Punica granatum 'Nana'

But we both embrace life. We hang onto it for all we're worth.

WFREC: Cheers! Here, Plants, Everybody Knows Your Name

I don't know why, but for me it's a pleasure to pull weeds--as long as they're in someone else's garden. Maybe it's because I get to learn something new every time I visit. Wouldn't you know this lovely shrub is a Clerodendron ugandense (maybe 'Blue Wings')? I didn't until I asked the real Master Gardener in charge of volunteers at WFREC. It (the WFREC Gardens in Milton) is one of those places where, if you're lucky enough to be a plant, everybody knows your name. Everybody except me. I'm still learning, and it takes a lot of repetition. One of these days those plants will be as familiar to me as the characters on Cheers! I credit years of television reruns for that phenomenon.

Bees visiting this shrub don't have blue wings or extraordinary power, but they do tend to transcend ordinary when captured on a flower.

Some beds, it may be noted, were designed in formal style. If not for outside heat and obligations, I would have stayed there quite a while.

Who can resist antique roses that invite you to sit a spell and enjoy their smell? Forget your venting and breathe in their scent(ing)?

I'm glad that there were signs to remind me of the names. If not for that small help, I would have to resort to games...

Like memory-jogging-hopscotch or pick-a-plant-by-number or jump-in-the-nearest-fountain. Or smell-the-rosemary or ask-the-master-gardener-again or climb-the-nearest-mountain.... Oh dear, I would not have you deluded. In Florida, you see, the mountains are not included.

If "cool" is what you're looking for, then take a walk among shaded caladiums galore.

Some weeds in other beds are left for next time 'round. You won't notice if you don't look closely--they never make a sound.

(Thanks to Mary, my friend from NFREC and Gardening Friends of the Big Bend, who gave me the idea for this post.)

Since I helped out at the no-kill, local animal shelter yesterday (http://marionrhs.org/), I thought I would post pictures of my kitties in Florida. We started volunteering at the shelter on Sundays because I needed a "cat fix" and we wanted an alternative to attending church service. There aren't too many places around here open on Sundays to accommodate volunteers. We can't have a cat here in Illinois for the simple fact that we are living temporarily in an apartment generously provided free-of-charge by my husband's employer. Besides, two cats already stretch the limits of my husband's patience with vet bills and cat mischief. Both of our cats, Miss Kitty and Peanut (actually our daughter's cat), were strays. We got Miss Kitty from another shelter in Illinois back in 1992, and Sarah found the kitten Peanut a year ago living beneath the building where she worked as a massage therapist. I can't show you a photo of both cats together because Miss Kitty cannot abide being close to the young'un long enough for me to take a picture. I'm glad that Peanut came into our life, rascal though she is. She keeps Miss Kitty in good condition for her age and feisty enough to chase after her.