Blooming where we're planted...however we want!

It's not an earth-shattering secret to declare that I don't like garden gnomes. 

I resisted the temptation, some years ago when I was stuck at an awful bed and breakfast locale in Newfoundland and Labrador, to swipe the two ugly garden gnomes out in the 'garden' as I was leaving, and ensconce them on the top of Gros Morne. I did bump them with my suitcase and knock them over, but didn't hurt them in any way. Whew. I feel better for having 'fessed up to that. 

My dislike of garden gnomes, however, is purely personal and really rather good-humoured. I LOVED the whimsical book "How to Survive a Garden Gnome Attack", which might not be high lit-er-ah-chure, but is darn funny, and hey, I can even enjoy a whimsically placed gnome or three. I'm not a zombie-fan but I've seen zombie gnomes and they reduced me to chortles of glee. 

The reason for this confession comes as a result of a discussion that happened on Twitter and on the blog of my friend and fellow gardening addict, Colleen Vanderlinden of In the Garden Online. Colleen took umbrage, rightfully so in my opinion, at some negative and critical posts and comments about 'crimes against gardening' posted by another writer. She didn't like the idea of being critical of other gardeners just because we don't share similar tastes. 

Encouraging a spirit of fairness in the gardening world

The 6th anniversary of Bloomingwriter passed quietly a couple of weeks ago. I was busy with work projects and with developing the growing community of bloominganswers, and I needed some time to think about a retrospective post. Now into its seventh year, Bloomingwriter has long been one of my ways to give back to the gardening community. I've learned so much from other gardeners, other writers, over the years, made some terrific friends, some of whom I've yet to meet face to face but whom I consider close friends regardless. Some of you are cat fans like me, and some continue in the quest for the blue poppy.
Several of those friends are outspoken, frank, and honest, passionate about gardening in all its forms. Colleen Vanderlinden is one of those gutsy writers who stands up for what she believes in, and who works hard to educate people about the pros of organic gardening and the need for responsible stewardship. It's been fabulous to watch her develop from writing a blog to writing for some well-respected publications including Treehugger.com, and she has two books on gardening for midwestern US to her credit, one forthcoming.

Pieces of April on a morning in May

It's Saturday, the first of May, Day 2 of the 6th annual Saltscapes East Coast Expo. The show is fabulous as always, with all kinds of things to do and see, taste and listen to. There are musicians and dancers, artisans and speakers, cooks and creative people galore, lots of cool retail items, innovative ways with food... I always explain the show as being as if Saltscapes magazine came to life in Exhibition Park; it's not your average home or trade show. It's just different, and I'm honoured to be a part of it.

The show comes at a very hectic time of year, especially for me, as I race towards my book deadline, enjoy the pleasures of the garden, visit different clubs and other organizations to give talks, and also meet my commitments to my other clients. It means something has to give, and in my case that something tends to be both writing my blog, and visiting others as much as I like to, and also not being as active at Blotanical as I normally am.

Someone asked me recently, "Why do you blog? Do you make money from it? Are you selling a service? Why don't you promote yourself more?" And so on. These questions, coupled with some rather cranky and mean-spirited posts and discussions I've read recently on assorted topics around the blogosphere, really got me thinking again about why I DO write this place of little scribbles.

Here are my answers to those questions, for what they're worth:

1. No, I don't make money from this blog. I have a google ad section on here, but I've never had a payout on it, (and in fact, I block ads via my browser so I don't even SEE the ads that come up. I am going to discontinue them because the randomness of them annoys me, and often promotes garbage sites that I don't wish to encourage).

2. I'm not selling a service. People who wish to hire me to write for them contact me by other means. And I'm plenty busy, with some very good clients who are great to work for, so I'm blessed to be able to make a living doing what I love. That's part of the reason for the blog--a way to give back to others.

3. I've never been much on self-promotion. There's nothing wrong with it for those who do wave their own flag to help encourage readers and/or buyers of whatever they're selling, etc. It's just not how I roll. It embarrasses me to be at the top of the favourite heap at Blotanical for long periods of time, I don't like awards, and I won't be asking anyone to vote for me in any of the award memes that go on periodically around the blogosphere.

4. But I do take pride in writing posts that (hopefully) amuse, educate, and most importantly, encourage others. Doing talks at events like the Expo remind me why I do what I do. People come to ask questions (and if I don't know the answer, I try very hard to find the information for them). They tell me stories about their gardens, their battles with goutweed, their interest in new plants and new ideas about gardening. They show me photos of their gardens, give me wonderful tidbits of information that I had no idea about.

They say things to me like, "Because of your (columns/talks/blog posts/newsletters) I have added new plants to my garden." or "We've added some plants to encourage bees and butterflies." or "I've gone organic in my garden."

People often come up after a talk and tell me that they are encouraged when they read bloomingwriter. They don't all leave comments, of course, just like everyone who reads a newspaper doesn't necessarily write letters to the editor. I can tell, from looking at my stats, how many of my readers come from around the region.

I make them laugh, sometimes. I make them think, and most importantly, make them think they CAN garden. Because they can, of course. Sure, it can be hard work, but it's also an uplifting, happy-making, beauty-making pastime. There's a satisfaction with looking at a newly-planted shrub, or with having pleasantly-sore muscles after a day spent making a new bed or battling the goutweed.

I will maintain until my last breath, "We can all grow great gardens. IF we want to." But let's be clear: there's nothing wrong with NOT wanting to garden, either. Not everyone has the time, space, interest, etc. It's not my way to be didactic with people, not about what they should plant or how they should garden (or how they should write a blog, for that matter) ; when something becomes a 'should', it loses some of its spontaneity and joy. I prefer for people to choose to plant a garden or go organic or encourage pollinators.

THAT's why I write this blog, and why I sometimes feel guilty when I'm so busy that I can't post.

To end on a less pensive note, here's a totally gratuitous photo of the always-naughty Mungus, having an overdose of catnip. He got this bag down off a high cupboard, ripped it open to share it with his cohorts, then licked it quite clean. Then had a nice long snooze.

Which is what I'm about to do!

Eating my Words

I love learning something new, especially when it comes to plants. There's always, always something new to learn, too. Including about myself.

So I'm at Glad Gardens out in Waterville, which is a very cool family owned operation that I discovered a few years ago. Daina and her mother Laura and their team of employees strive to have great plants, including a lot of unusual annuals, many of which Daina grows from seed. She creates astonishingly beautiful container plantings too, but more about those another day.

One of the reasons I enjoy going to Glad Gardens so much is that, like the other nurseries I frequent, the owners LOVE plants, and love to talk about them. We exchange information, puzzle over things together sometimes. Like when Laura told me about the Filipendula purpurea 'Elegans that she'd had growing in front of the nursery, and then moved it, and the flower colour changed. She'd grown it on in several spots and it still didn't resort to the rich pink flowers they had been--more of a pale peach. Did I know why? No, I didn't, although I'd read something about this in Allan Armitage's Native Plants for North America Gardens just recently and so when I got home I'd go find out what ever else I could and let her know.

Daina and I are walking through the nursery looking for plants for me to take with me to Saltscapes Expo this Friday, and she points out the tuberous begonias she grew. "I'm not a fan of begonias," I tell her, even though my father grew them splendidly when I was a kid back in St. John's. Somehow, they're just too...I don't know what, but I've only ever had the occasional Rex begonia around for years.

The words are hardly out of my mouth--I MEAN that--when I glance up and come to a halt. "Which one is THAT?" I demand, pointing at a glowing, perfect flower, gold edged in pink-scarlet. It looked a little bit like a tree peony, so stuffed with gorgeous petals.

"Non Stop Fire, "Daina says, grinning at me. She knows me well, and when plants stop me in my tracks, there's usually something about to happen.

Yes, she added one to the box of treasures she was carrying for me. Surprised? Didn't think so.

So that was one thing I learned--I can be seduced into liking at least ONE species or cultivar in a genus if the right colour combination catches my eye. But the thing about this little interlude that cracked me up is that I was looking at another flower on the plant, with single petals and a cluster of stigma in its centre. "Why is this different?" I ask.

"That's the female flower," she says. "The male is the bigger, showier one. Some people cut the female flowers off so more energy can go into the fancy double ones."

D-uh to me. All these years and I didn't know that? Okay, granted, I've said I don't LIKE them and consequently don't grow them or read about them or...but still. Wow. But I've never pretended to be a know-it-all, just a curious person. And like I said, I love learning something new.

Oh, so what else got into the car today besides the begonia that felled me in a single swoop? I'm not telling, not today. Just a tempting little hint; rich dark foliage, blue flowers, orange flowers, rosy pink flowers, vine, annuals, perennials, succulents. Hmmmm. What has she gone and done NOW?

You'll have to wait a day or two to find out, friends. With the Saltscapes Expo only 5 sleeps away, I have much to do before I head to Halifax for the weekend.

When bad things happen to good gardens...and other woes

The symmetry and beauty of flowers does a lot to calm us when we're in the middle of turmoil. I love nigella, and this white one does a great deal to just make me feel better about life in general. Although Hurricane Bill wasn't so much of an event, it did manage to make a mess in the garden. And this has been the week of electronic tantrums, too.

My digital SLR camera is acting up so it's on its way to the shop to be cleaned and checked over. That's annoying enough, but the real fun was Sunday morning when I went to wake up Oggy, my MacBook Pro laptop...and there was no video. Turned out that there was shortly afterwards no computer activity at all, because the motherboard had fried. THREE HUGE CHEERS, however, for my Applecare Extended warranty, which replaced the motherboard that would otherwise have cost over $1000.00 Canadian.

A public service announcement to those with Intel-based Mac laptops: apparently, the fans that are supposed to keep the computer cool aren't set high enough (at least in older ones like Oggy). However, there is a small, free program called sncFAnControl that you can download and install, which controls the fan RPMs. I do not know if this is an issue with new laptops, but ask your Apple technician if you have concerns. Mine is certainly running much cooler since its new motherboard and this program were installed. Hopefully my electronic storms are over with! It's no fun trying to read or write blogs on an iPhone, and my hubby's old computer just makes me cranky. Spoiled, that's me!


Back to the story of the garden. Not-really-hurricane Bill did bring a LOT of rain and wind, but the most annoying thing was that the wind changed direction a few times, and managed to create a greatly disheveled garden. Happily, the coneflowers weren't damaged, just made to lean a little, which I've since corrected with a few bamboo stakes and some plant velcro.


To reward me for my labours, 'Mac n Cheese' has really gotten its colour, and sure does look like that particular dish. 'Tiki Torch is in the process of opening, but we're having post-tropical Danny here today so it's bleak and rainy.


Inula (sometimes called Elecampane) is an odd plant, a relative of sunflowers and coneflowers, and a shy, retiring little fellow--regularly reaching well over six feet tall in our garden. It was a staple of Acadien potager gardens, but I have yet to find out definitively why. It was apparently used to treat as diverse ailments as sciatica and colds. Whatever the case, I like the plant's stature and flowers, and it's in a spot where it can get as tall as it wishes.


We grow a fair number of clematis, which do well here because the soil is clay and well mulched, so the roots get the 'cool feet' that they want, while the rest of the plant gets the 'warm head' part of the equation. This species regularly stretches up ten feet (and would go higher if the trellis was taller.


Being a digital shot, the photo looks more purple than the wine the flowers really are.

The little yellow-flowered C. tangutica is still flowering--and growing--profusely. Not as showy as some of its counterparts, but I love the seedheads, which hang on til well into late autumn unless the wind beats them off.



This is Clematis integrifolia 'Caerulea', one of my favourites. Some allow it to ramble across rock walls, but we have ours more or less on an obelisk, (where it has grapevines and a rambunctious rudbeckia relative keeping it company.

Late summer means that the Brazilian vervain (V. bonariensis) is in bloom. I'm going to make carefully where mine are, and not disturb the ground around them in spring, so that they'll reseed. Mine are seedlings given to me by a friend (and much beloved because they're a favourite flower of butterflies, too).

The helenium is also flowering where its in full sun. Other plants, that are in more shade and also taller species, won't be coming on for a little while yet.

Although the monarda is still enthusiastically blooming, and was unphased by the winds, I think that our hummingbirds have packed up and left. Maybe they read about post-tropical Danny, which has brought rain today and possibly wind later. NO matter. It's a good day to catch up on my blog reading. The garden work can wait til a drier day.

Bloomin' weather, bloomin' weeds, bloomin' ickies and blooming writer

Today is Sunday, 5 July. Belated but heartfelt Happy Canada Day to my compatriots; hope everyone had an awesome Canada Day with lots of "true patriot love..." and lots of red and white!



and belated but equally heartfelt Happy Fourth of July to my American neighbours. (My Red, White and Blue tribute follows...)



Assorted bouquets, hugs and apologies to regular readers and to my fellow bloggers who I usually visit faithfully. I've been amongst the blogging/gardening missing again.



I'll blame it on the weather, shall I? We've had something like seventeen days in a row of wet, dreary weather, with fog, rain, drizzle, etc etc making an appearance for at least part of every day, according to my longsuffering spouse, who notices these things. But frankly, I haven't been noticing a whole lot of anything, since I've been fighting illness again.



Regardless of what's going on with health and weather and other matters of the universe, of course the gardens sail on without me, and are approaching jungle-like qualities again. The sun has been out intermittently today, and the humidity has been broken, though I haven't been outside the house yet to test this for myself. Watching from my bedroom window, I've seen the sun gleefully illuminate the overgrown grass, the far too exuberant growth of plants both welcome and otherwise (goutweed, I'm looking at YOU...). I keep reminding myself that things happen for a reason, and that invariably they also work themselves out. So I'm gonna focus on the flowers and the foliage, and not so much the weeds, other than to laugh at them.

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it. I'll catch up with everyone when I can, and hopefully feel up to finishing some posts that have been partly done for several weeks but never been completed and posted because I've felt too icky to get A Round Tuit. Fortunately, posts don't get couchgrass or goutweed in them when neglected...

T-minus one week: Rhapsodie en bleu

I realize I've lapsed back into silence of late, but my reason is a pretty good one. This time next week I'll be about six hours from going into the hospital to have surgery to fix a problem once and for all. (Optimistic to a Fault, that's me!) I won't be in hospital for long, which is a good thing because separating me from my iPhone or Nano full of music will make me even crankier than I usually am. However, when I get home I'll be way limited in what I can do. No lifting, etc. Even my laptop I think is slightly over the five pound limit. Definitely won't be going anywhere for at least a week.

So I have to basically finish up some work for the next three or four weeks plus get ready for Christmas before next Sunday night. Which has me singin' the blues. And I don't mean Blue Christmas, either. But you know what? Whatever doesn't get done, is not that important. We're all adults in my family and we'll be together and if my dearly beloved gets press-ganged into doing all the wrapping of stuff other than what he's getting, well, he's a good and patient man and will handle that with his usual aplomb. Especially since we know Simon, Mungus, and the rest of the crew will be glad to help him with such preparations. I'll lay back in bed or on the couch, read blogs and books, and practice getting healed up quickly. So it will all work out.

I'm working on a project that I hope to be able to tell you more about early in the New Year, but I'm just superstitious enough that I won't say more than that. However, I've been looking through some of the gazillion files on my computer and found a folder full of blue-flowered plants, about which I've waxed rhapsodic in the past. They're so beautiful, I thought I'd share them, especially as we sail into the Christmas season where so much is decorated in green, red and white. All of which I love, but it's well known that my favourite flowers in the garden tend to all be blue. 
When we are down in the dumps, we say we have the blues. I've always found that curious because I find blue to be a most soothing and yet uplifting colour. Of course, many of the flowers we call blue are actually lavender, mauve, purple, violet, or other colour related to but not exactly true blue. 


It would be fun to do an all blue planting in my garden, as we actually have quite a number of blue flowered perennials, annuals and shrubs. They don't, however, all bloom at the same time and the rebel gardener in me would have to plop something brilliant orange or fuchsia into the middle to just set it all off. But it would be fun, because I never met a blue flowered plant I didn't love.

I stand corrected. I don't love this, or even like it. To be honest, my first reaction when I saw these painted poinsettias a few years ago was revulsion. Now I just roll my eyes at them the way I do at the black, pink or tangerine coloured fake Christmas trees that some like. Chacun a son gout, of course, but you won't see a blue poinsettia in my house this Christmas.

Nor in my hospital room. Just sayin'.

A sort of review of the concerts and such

(All photos taken by me. Live. IN person. How cool is that?)
So I'm back in the land of fog and rain after leaving the land of sunlight and warm people. A stellar time was had by all, at least by the 9 or ten friends that shared the concert part of this trip. And by the 38,000 or so other people who took in the two concerts and made enough noise to register on the Richter scale, I'm sure.

It's not for me to say whether each of the ten performers in the American Idols Live! Tour 08 will have successful careers. I'd be willing to bet that 'The Davids' will have marvelously rewarding careers, and sincerely hope that the others find their creative way too. Obviously they all have great passion and most of them have serious serious talent (yeah, I'm not a fan of a couple of them.) And I love to see people successful at something they're passionate about.

So we'll go in order as they performed in the concert, which was in order of elimination. Each of them from 10-3 had 3 songs each; David A. had 4 and David C. had 5, and there were two group numbers. I should also note that because we met one of the musicians from the band, we had backstage passes to the meet and greet after Saturday's concert, so I met 7 of the Idols. Not David Cook, because he was with another group of friends and family, but that was to be expected, being in his hometown and all. Maybe one day he'll come perform here and I'll get to interview him. Stranger things have happened. Getting to see him in Blue Springs was an absolute delight, though, and I did take a few gazillion pictures, to prove that I was there.


10. Chikezie: I so, so, wish that Chikezie had stayed on the show longer than he did, because he's become one of my top three faves from the tour. His songs in the concert just thrilled me and my friends to bits, because he can seriously sing and move! He got the crowd kickstarted far, far better than Corey-the-host, with his velvety smooth voice, good crowd interaction and his enthusiasm. I actually met Chikezie twice; once in the hotel bar where one of my friends was staying, and once at the after-show meet and greet, where he gave me a serious hug because I told him how much we'd enjoyed him and hoped he'd get a recording contract that worked well for him. He's softspoken but very friendly and certainly his voice is powerful. Simon C. was mean to him during the show, but I believe he'll do very well for himself. I'd happily buy his record!


9. Ramiele Malubay. No disrespect meant, but this girl doesn't do a thing for me; I couldn't figure out how she made it as far as she did during the competition, and she seems out of place on the stage. Not because she's diminutive, but just because her voice is not very strong when she sings, and she doesn't work the stage like some of the others. After the crowd was gotten all revved up by Chikezie's phenomenal energy, Ramiele sort of was like cold water over the audience. Fortunately....


8. Michael Johns. Wow!!!...we were all brought back to mega-decibel pitch by Michael Johns doing Queen's We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions, and his subsequent numbers. MJ is funny, articulate and while his dancing is a bit odd, (he's got a goofy way of moving) his voice is wonderful. The only observation I'd make is that he needs to decide what sort of artist he is, whether blues, soul, rock, or something in between, and just be him, not bother channelling Freddie or JImi or Steve. He certainly does stir the ladies up, too. And of course his participation as half of the conspirators in the Mavid dance of Please Don't Stop the Music is totally priceless.


7. Kristy Lee Cook. Country is not my thing. This performer isn't my thing. However, I watched her interacting with fans in the afternoon out at the barricades, and she was great with kids especially, signing lots of autographs and posing for pictures. She'll probably do just fine in the country genre, and just like the ladies find MJ quite appealing, KLC has plenty of male admirers.


6. Carly Smithson. This young woman has a lot of guy fans too. Well, actually, Carly has plenty of fans of every genre, I think. Rightly so; the girl sure can belt songs, and now that she's out from under the gun of Simon's critical self, she's blooming. I love Evanescence so was a bit concerned that she'd be covering 'Bring me to life', but I loved what she did to it, and to her other songs.


5. Brooke White. Brooke's hubby Dave is from Cole Harbour, and she was so excited to find out I was from NS, she sent me right over to meet him and chat at the afterparty. Brooke is sunny and sweet and lovely, according to all who know her, and I'd have to agree. I didn't take photos of her on stage because she was playing the piano for Let it Be and Coldplay's Yellow, and then the guitar for Feist's 1234 and she just wasn't in the right spot for pictures. Afterwards, however, there was time to chat and again, she's a natural interacting with the fans who swarmed around her. I liked her a LOT on the show although the last couple of weeks before she was eliminated she was just so stressed that it was sad to watch. Many call her the modern-day Carol King, but I like her voice much better.


4. Jason Castro. Some critics have commented that Jason's acoustic set (Somewhere Over the Rainbow, Gnarles Barkley's Crazy, and Daydream) doesn't fit well with the vibe of the rest of the performances. I wouldn't make a good critic, apparently, because I loved his mellow, easy-going set and his smooth voice. He's also really fun to watch with his fans, the Dreadheads, who showed him a lot of love at the barricades in the afternoon. At the afterparty, he was standing by himself for a while and we chatted about several different things including college ; he's an Aggie from TAMU, although his senior year is 'on hold' while this Idol craziness shakes out wherever it's going to lead.


3. Syesha Mercado. On the show, I was so NOT a fan of Syesha simply because I found her too derivative of the divas that I don't care for. However, she won me over with her set in the concert, because she truly brings it all and leaves it on the stage. The musician from the band who we met told me that she's very shy and has a tough time with conversations with people she doesn't know well, and that also softened my opinion of her.


2. David Archuleta. During the run of the show, I initially wasn't a fan of young Archie because he was promoted heavily as the favourite and while I liked his voice, it seemed the same week after week. At the finale where the champion was revealed, however, watching the two Davids interact in behind the scenes film clips as well as on stage, all that earlier dislike disappeared. Watching Archie over the course of the summer has meant watching him gain confidence in performing and interacting with others, and I absolutely LOVED his four-song set in the concert. Don't tell Robbie Williams, but I actually like Archie's version of Angels better; ditto his version of OneRepublic's 'Apologize.' Will I buy his album? Depends on whether they turn him into a bubble gum recording artist or let him spread his creative wings a little. Whatever the case, he's a sweetheart to talk to and he spent a huge long time outside with his fans, and never seemed tired or put out, even by the crazies.


1. David Cook. Yes, we KNOW I'm a fan. I admit freely to having had my attention caught by this guy in his audition, where the odd hair and the funky vest clashed with the softspoken polite guy who then opened his mouth and sang Bon Jovi, and left me going 'What? Who IS that!?" I'd never watched more than the auditions, but David Cook forced me to watch the whole season. By top 20, I was sure he'd win if there was any justice in the world. And what do you know, he did win. Happy story.

So in concert? It's like he's been doing this forever. In some ways he has, as he has performed in bands and solo since he was in his midteens. But there's more to it than that. Cook reminds me of a younger Bono, or Coldplay's Chris Martin, because he's compassionate, interested in the world around him, articulate and blazingly talented. (sure he's pretty fine looking too, but if he was a jerk I'd never pay any attention to him at all.) He works the stage and talks to the audience like there are ten people in the room, not nearly 20 thousand. He doesn't sound like your run of the mill pop or rock singer, and he's not derivative. It's not David Cook doing Lionel Richie doing Hello. It's David Cook doing Hello. Right now he's constrained to do other people's songs by the terms of the show, but he's got a lot of his own music out there--look for Analog Heart and have a listen, or some of the old Axium stuff--and soon we'll have a new album to enjoy (for whoever asked, the word is mid-autumn for the album to be released, but that's all I've heard.

Of the two group pieces, the finale, Please Don't Stop the Music, gets a lot of attention because of the little miniskits that MJ and DC do--go to Youtube and search 'Mavid dance' because I can't possibly explain. But the earlier group song, U2's Pride (In the Name of Love) which is done by idols 10-6, is actually one of the highlights of the show in my mind. Yes, it's to promote Idol Gives Back, but that's a worthwhile cause, and the voices of the six singers work together beautifully.

So there you have it. If you're still not sure about going, and you're somewhere within the circuit of the last 10 shows--I'd recommend going, especially if you are a fan of the Davids, but really, there IS something for everyone in this concert. I saw people of all ages, not just squealing teenboppers (obviously) and I think the reason so many people embrace this show is that we get to watch the progression of the young performers as they work through the weeks of competition, and rise to meet some pretty intersting challenges musically. Plus we get to participate in seeing them move up week by week (yes, I voted via Gizmo over the last few weeks of the competition. A LOT of times. For Cook.) So it's a democratic investment that we make, and that's what makes the experience different from watching a Garth or a Bono or a Feist; we have a say in helping them get started. Now it's up to them. And I do think they'll mostly all do brilliantly.

Okay, next time we'll finish up with Kansas City's other claims to fame (barbecue, great architecture, more music) and then maybe it'll have stopped raining here so I can go out to the garden! Thank you to the Idols for putting on an amazingly fun and entertaining time; we can probably all say we had the Time of My Life.

The Rescue Story continues--(was NOT an April Fool Story)

Happy News! My veterinarian tested our rescue kitty for both FLV and FIV (Leukemia and feline Aids) and he was negative on both counts. So I've brought him home to feed him up and work on getting his coat unmatted, and we expect to be able to get him vaccinated and neutered within a few weeks, as soon as he's strong enough to stand the anaesthetic and innoculations. He's about a year old and will probably be a big handsome kitty when he's fed up--he's part Maine Coon, apparently, and he's definitely a sweetie. The rest of the catchildren are still pouting, but they'll handle it. Thank you to all of you for your good thoughts and support. We don't know his name yet but I expect he'll let us know in the next week or so. We'll keep you posted on his improvements.

Yesterday afternoon my Longsuffering Spouse burst into the house, calling for me to come and get my boots on and come out to the barn. I thought that Leggo had gotten into trouble, or Jenny had tried to teleport to Mars, or something equally upsetting. But no. Look what we found in a little nest of hay under the ladder to the haymow.

I'm always suspicious of cats outside, because they're usually wild as hawks. But when we spoke to this little fellow, he spoke back and came right out from underneath the ladder. LSS picked him up.

"oh good god almighty honey....he's starving. He's nothing but bones! Get him something to eat!" His voice trembled in rage and grief.

My LSS is a retired lobster fisherman, as I've said before. He can pick up a 250 pound lobster trap (they have to ballast them up here because of the tide) and toss it like a stone. He manhandles huge chunks of logs onto the woodsplitter, and while he's a bit heavy, he has muscles in places a lot of us don't even have places. I call him my chunk of North Mountain granite--solid, strong, steadfast.

He's also a complete mushball, where cats are concerned. We went through this a few years ago, when he came home with a little cat who looked amazingly like this one, only a grey tabby rather than brown. She was starving at a house down in the Bay, a castoff from somewhere, and the homeowner wouldn't feed her. So LSS bundled her in the truck, brought her home, handed her to me and said, tears in his eyes and voice choked up, "I couldn't leave her there to starve, darling..." Well, of course not!

Currently, the stranger is in seclusion in the kitty isolation ward. He's eaten and drunk, let me brush him and determine that he IS a male--a complete one, but very immature--and let me tangle some of the burdocks and hay and hairballs out of his fluffy coat. His tail is enormous in size, fluffy as all get out, and it and his head are the biggest things on him. The rest of him is just bones, hair...

...and purr. And talk! He's another talker. I just spent an hour with him snuggling him down. In the morning, I'll take him to our vet to be tested for feline leukemia and if he's negative, we'll get his boosters and set a date for neutering, and he'll be integrated into the family. If he's positive...but I'm hopeful that he's negative. I think he's young enough that he could still be carrying immunity from his mother. Other than being desperately thin, he appears healthy; strong gums and teeth, bright eyes, no discharges, no sign of fleas.

But what set me into rage was when he went to the litter box, and did his business. Not to be gross, but what he put in the box was full of...bird seed. Not bird feathers, bones, or anything like that. Bird SEED. He must have been eating what was on the ground outside under the main feeder. And he's so friendly...he isn't a kitten that's always been wild. He was someone's pet, til someone got tired of him.

Meanwhile, the rest of the catchildren are doing the eggshell walk, tiptoeing up to the door to look into the ward at the stranger, and a couple of them have made noises that sound like a cross between a vacuum cleaner and a fire siren. Spunky came in here, jumped up on the desk and lay down on my bluetooth keyboard, frowning at me, while others have been racing around the house acting like they'd seen ghosts. But they'll get over it. And hopefully in a day or two they'll all be racing around the house together.

Somebody tell me there IS kitty karma out there, and that the person who jettisoned this little fellow will face retribution. There MUST be kitty karma...the little guy did know where to go.

So it might not be a kitten. But like my buddy and enabler Kylee...and Yolanda...and any other who wouldn't turn away a starving creature...what else could I do?

Eight happy things!

Eight things that make me happy…Stuart of Gardening Tips n Ideas tagged me to play the ‘things I’m grateful for’ meme, so I’ve been mulling over this for a few days, in between sneezing, coughing, and generally being a bit blah. So here they are, not in any particular order.

1. Living where I do. Our house is not perfect, or new. It’s about a hundred years old, with a rock-wall basement, a spring that runs through that basement, uneven floors, interesting drafts here and there…and a ghost named Henry Thorpe, who the cats see and we hear on a regular basis. Yes, really. But he’s rather like the ghost of my grandfather Charlie, who still walks through the house HE built and lived in all his adult life. According to the people who own that house now, “Charlie must like what we’ve done in caring for his house, because he doesn’t make a fuss.” Neither does Henry. Our house has no plastic siding on it, no plastic wrap suffocating it, lots of windows, and looks down at the upper Bay of Fundy, where race the world’s highest tides. Yes, we get a lot of wind. But that keeps the bugs down.


2. Doing what I do. While the road to becoming a freelance writer was circuitous and challenging, there is nothing else in the world I would rather do. I’m very blessed to be able to share information, tell other peoples’ stories, and create portraits in words, in a number of great publications where I get to work with terrific editors and designers.

3. The cat-children. I could not imagine living without cats, and it would have to be multiple cats, at least two. They ask so little of us, and they bring us such joy, amusement, entertainment, and love. Yes, love. Only people who don’t know or understand cats think they are aloof, unfriendly, unloyal and not loving.

4. My office. I used to work in a little room upstairs, with a wide doorway but no doors (ever since I slammed the double louvered doors (like you have on closets) one time in a fit of artistic pique…and they fell off the hinges. Writers need—no, we crave—privacy when we’re working. Last year, I asked my longsuffering spouse if it would be possible to partition off part of our L-shaped living room and make me a real office, with more space and a door. He, man of many talents, said of course…did a huge chunk of it while I was away in Nfld for a few days, and I moved into the office about two weeks after the initial conversation. It’s cluttered, chaotic, I could use more room… and certainly more bookcases...but it’s bright, cool, and mostly contains my resources—and it’s private when I need to be undisturbed. Except there is ALWAYS a cat on the wrong side of the door.


5. Coneflowers. Yes, most plants give me joy, but coneflowers especially do it for me. They’re so tidy and symmetrical in their form, they grow politely, even joyously, in our garden, and they are always playing host to bees, butterflies, other visitors…and they just invite artistic photography.

6. Family. My family isn’t large, and we don’t always get along, especially in the past when my sister and I were growing up. What family does, truthfully? But the people who matter most to me are my family—and they aren’t just family that I love, they’re also friends who I enjoy spending time with. We generally laugh a lot when we’re together, and we support each other through rough times and celebrate through good times. And I’ve got the bestest long-suffering spouse on the planet, because it isn’t easy living with a writer.

7. The ocean. We all came out of the sea, or so many cultures and science believes, and some of us feel closer to it than others. I have lived most of my life not far from the mighty Atlantic or the Bay of Fundy/Minas Basin, and I’ve been out on it in some rather bombastic weather. But I find it intensely soothing and inspiring, and healing, no matter what it’s doing. My longsuffering spouse, a retired commercial fisherman, gets up every morning, and looks out the back window down at the Bay. He says he has to make eye contact with the water before he can get on with his day. I perfectly understand.


8. Sunlight on flowers, caught with a good camera. It’s perfect for chasing away the coldest and bleakest of midwinter nights. Actually, there's two things here, because like Stuart with his choices, I love my Canon Rebel XT digital SLR camera, (and its lens, and my tripod, and my strobe flash) and I love even more that I had a good teacher recently show me all kinds of things that I didn't know how to do. I may yet become as good a photographer as some of my heros. Well, maybe not in this lifetime...but a girl must aspire, mustn't she?


Normally, others are tagged in these sorts of memes. But we’re two weeks from Christmas, and people are busy….so I’ll do an open house tag. Feel free to write about eight things that you are grateful for, and if you want, come back and leave a comment here. No pressure, however. I believe in stress-less Christmas seasons.