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In the spirit of another famous forum, only here we don't ask. We already know. IATA. You may be too.
If you're only reading for the wild things my child says, this is the place. That she has her own column says a lot.
Most people talk to me about education. And then they stop talking to me about education. Join the club. Then leave.
Except when it isn't. Here I harass my mom and my children. How's my family? How's YOUR family?
When my nephew stepped on a pin he said "I did not see that coming." Same, guy. Life is full of pins in the carpet.
The pandemic broke my service dog, and my will to make the situation right. How's your dog's life?
Something is always growing here. In the garden, the greenhouse, the growboxes. And some houseplant is also dying.
- GardenRobin Wall Kimmerer can probably get some credit for the specifics of catching myself having transplanted a coreopsis plant with a little regret. I've been talking with plants forever, but mostly houseplants and pioneer species (to thank them before dispatching them to their new role as green mulch). We're working on the second phase of our Room for People garden design phase, which includes a path out to the fire pit. Because I am highly suggestible and also frequent reddit permaculture boards, I have decided we also need a pond. However, the best place for the pond is in a small depression right in the middle of the planned path. The grass always grew greenest and longest here before we mulched over it. Thus, the path needed to jog to the west, and the coreopsis was in the way. But I forgot to ask its permission. I did carefully dig around the root ball and have been watering it generously, but this does not make up for unilaterally deciding it needed a new home next to Blue False Indigo instead of Bearded Iris and Lamium. So I apologized and I hope to do better.Like
- GardenThere was a rabbit under the arbor, so Zella stayed up on the deck. She doesn’t chase them. When I went down to the second level that rabbit sprinted, but there were two more remaining - some of the grapes had fallen, and they seem to have been worth whatever risk I might present. I know now why. The grapes that were still on the vine are sweet and tart. They would be the perfect grape juice grapes if the burst of the skin weren’t a pleasure. Are they ten years’ worth of work good? Seasons of growing, pruning, squashing spotted lantern flies? My immediate answer is of course not. But then … if I hadn’t grown them, would I be sitting here thankful for all the effort I’d saved not growing a bowl of grapes? No. I regret my failed hops efforts. But I won’t regret the ten year grapes.Like
- GardenI have posted too frequently in that other place and not frequently enough here because I’ve meant to be more intentional here, and then I get caught up in what it means to be intentional rather than just, say, dropping some good pictures here and enjoying them. And the great thing about doing that is that they’re easier to find here as a reminder - categorized, curated a little, not just moments in time shared with the metaverse (or not) but pictures for you and for me and for future me. That’s intention enough, because today has otherwise been a really painful day. On the left, Dara Queen Anne’s lace doesn’t attract pollinators really but the scabiosa with it does. I never wanted to have to dig up dahlias in the fall but they are worth it. This isn’t my showiest but the butterflies love it. And the late august allium on the right is covered in leaf cutter bees every time we go past.Like