Joyful In The Rain

Posted on November 7, 2022 by Ann Lovejoy
Print Friendly, PDF & Email

Kale in its autumn coat

Weary Plants Bounce Back

After such a long drought, it’s been so soothing and peaceful to hear rain falling in the night. Our vintage mobile home has new insulation and a new roof, but even so, that roof isn’t very far away and when it rains hard, the pounding can wake me up. Happily, the softer rain song is the best lullaby I know, calling me into a calm, meditative state of gratitude as I drift into sleep. It’s pretty sweet to listen to birds singing in the rain in the daytime too, and it feels wonderful to go outside and breathe as deeply as possible, filling my smoke-sore lungs with that crisp, fresh autumn air. As I tidy up the sloppiest beds, I clip a little rosemary to simmer in a big pot of water, inhaling the fragrant steam and feeling both my breath and that persistent, low level headache ease. Apparently millions of us have some residual effects from covid, even months later, and I’m again grateful that I’m gradually coming back to my accustomed level of energy and wellbeing. Ok, more or less, but still.

Though national clocks fell back yesterday, the plants in my neighborhood bounced back, looking amazingly refreshed after the hot, dry summer. I wasn’t expecting much in the way of autumn foliage color, given the dryness of the summer, and indeed, the show is not the best ever. Even so, many Japanese maples are blazing, and birches are looking like golden waterfalls. Even my kale is gorgeous, with purple tones awakening in the silvery grey blue leaves. One plant rises against a backdrop of hydrangeas that take on tints of burgundy and rose and purple as they fade, making a marvelously subfusc tapestry (and now I want to knit a sweater in those colors).

Tiger Tiger Burning Bright

Nearby, a clump Euphorbia characias Tasmanian Tiger stands boldly against gilded strands of Pheasant Tail Grass (Anemanthele lessoniana), one of my favorite border grasses. I love the brilliance of its autumn coloring, but I also love the misty scrim of the seed-bearing stems which pour in soft bronze and russet arches and catch every shimmering raindrop after a shower. Some euphorbias age poorly, looking lovely as youngsters but quickly getting woody and ratty with maturity. This Tiger stays bright and trim for years, as long as you trim off the spent bloom stalks. A lovely cousin, Ascot Rainbow, also holds its looks quite well over time, building into quite large plants. Admittedly, it does have a tendency to falter just as you start counting on it to anchor a corner of a vignette, but getting maybe five good years from it is worth the eventual loss.

That Bright Tiger

The Tiger’s name always reminds me of a trip I made years ago, when I was in England visiting gardens and gardeners for a PBS series called Great Gardens Of  The World. It was a truly amazing experience filled with memorable moments, one of which happened when I was staying at Tintinhull House as a guest of Penelope Hobhouse (true story!). One day, Penny (she told me to call her that, serisouly) invited a bunch of garden writers over for tea, including Christopher Lloyd, Fergus Garrett, John Brookes, and quite a few others. While we strolled in the garden, a lively conversation (aka contentious argument) arose concerning Euphorbia characias. Several people from the National Trust felt that plant shouldn’t be there, as it was introduced to English gardens after Phyllis Reiss, the garden creator, had died (at that time, National Trust garden were supposed to remain as close to the way their creators had made them as possible).

The Myth Of  The All Knowing

While the argument raged, I was fascinated to notice that each person pronounced ‘characias’ differently, and none of them acknowledged anyone else’s pronunciation. It was a great moment for me, because back then, so many American gardeners struggled to figure out whether a plant name was Greek or Latin or Aramaic or whatever and how on earth it should be pronounced. We humbly assumed that those erudite Brits knew all about everything horticultural and realizing that they didn’t know how to say the name either was delightful(!). May the gentle rain refresh your spirit and your gardens!

Posted in Birds In The Garden, Garden Design, Health & Wellbeing, Plant Partnerships, Sustainable Gardening, Sustainable Living | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Queer Bingo & Floral Ofrendas

Posted on October 31, 2022 by Ann Lovejoy
Print Friendly, PDF & Email

Sisters Of Perpetual Indulgence (and kindness!)

Shifting Halloween Traditions

On Saturday, the Senior Center held an uproarious, over the top Queer Bingo party as a fundraiser for queer students in arts and humanities and students with learning disabilities. It was organized by the Center’s Queer Elder Family Group, and despite the total lack of alcohol (quite a few folks are in recovery), over 100 people had a fantastic time doing the bingo thing together. The costumes were outstanding and so creative; a huge, tumbling Marie Antoinette wig made of paper was my favorite, though an adorable mushroom was definitely a contender. The good cheer and kindness was truly heartwarming in a time when hearts can use a little extra hug.

Today, my little neighborhood is holding a Halloween costume parade, with treat stations and lots of decorations crammed into one short block. It’s a safe, fun way to get some goodies without the crazy, wild energy of the bigger candy frenzy going on downtown (just a few blocks away). We invite anyone of any age who feels overwhelmed by uproar but still wants to party a little, so there are folks of all ages, including participants from our nearby Special Needs Foundation. We started this during the pandemic shut down and decided to keep it going as a very pleasant, collaborative event.

The Ofrenda Path

On Saturday morning, I took a big bag of greenery, berries and flowers to the Bainbridge Island Art Museum in preparation for the annual ofrenda that’s made inside. To my surprise, I was tasked with creating a wide, floral path with two arms spread wide in an invitational wedge, so people are welcomed inside. I’d asked a friend to bring a bag of leaves and she had collected huge, heart-shaped leaves in vivid autumn colors from her Forest Pansy redbud. She decided to stay and help, so we scoured the little woodland behind the museum and cut sword ferns and huckleberries as well as salal and cedar and lovely gilded oak leaves. A friend brought great swags of redwood cut from a tree fed with her mom’s ashes. Someone dropped off buckets of hydrangeas and a bin of rose petals. The gardeners brought over wispy wands of Gaura and some late lilies.

As we worked, people stopped to ask about it and we invited them to join in. Quite a few folks did, arranging and adding as more offerings were dropped off. The result is beautiful and evocative, and the fact that it is a fleeting, ephemeral creation seems especially fitting for the setting and the event. As the wind stirs the petals and curls the flat leaves, as the flowers fade, the path will change, the bright colors softening into autumnal browns and soft gold. I love making art from natural materials, not least because it so often is a thing of the moment, created to pass away naturally. That’s why this path is so perfect, as in remembering our departed, we have the joy of our memories and we also taste the flavor our own ending.

A mometary creation

Offering Love

As is traditional, the museum’s ofrenda holds candles, water, food and paper banners as well as flowers galore. Many people bring images of dear departed family and friends, as well as special things their special people loved. My grandkids recently lost a very dear young friend, a 14 year old transgender boy who killed himself a few weeks ago. We made candles and paper flowers and a little bowl of rainbow goldfish crackers for him and that seemed to be helpful for the children as well as the adults. A family of musicians played and sang at the opening of the ofrenda, and one young woman told me, “In Mexico, we have the traditional that nobody is really gone as long as they are remembered.”

We remember together

In Mexico, Dia de los Muertos is a kindly, cheerful celebration of lost lives, focusing on appreciation and positive memories. People picnic near the ofrendas and surround pictures of their dead with candles and lanterns, favorite foods, a glass of water, and flowers. There’s joyful music and dancing, story telling and exchanges of memories happy and poignant and sad. Sorrow is not denied a place at the picnic table of memory, but it’s interwoven with strands of gladness for love and lives shared. In contrast, our northern candy holiday feels stripped of tradition (though I gotta say I love the costumes!). My personal Halloween is always tinged by loss—my husband died on Halloween, and so many friends and family have walked on in this season. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to the loving, vibrant traditions of our southern neighbors, with their acceptance of grief and loss as natural parts of a life fully lived.

Here’s my costume as the Spirit of Autumn

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 6 Comments

Creating Nature Based Costumes

Posted on October 24, 2022 by Ann Lovejoy
Print Friendly, PDF & Email

A brave neighbor models the Cowardly Lion

Dress Up Fun For All Ages

What is the point of Halloween if not to be able to dress up in whatever wild costume suits our fancy, at whatever age? I was looking forward to spending the weekend making costumes but on Friday, I got both a flu shot and the new booster, which the pharmacist called “a doozie.” Since there was a free vaccination clinic at the Senior Center, it seemed like a great idea to double up and get both at the same time. I’m glad I did, though the side effects weren’t all that great, because there seems to be more covid around than ever and this is starting to shape up as a big flu year. By the time Saturday rolled around, I felt too feverish and floppy to make the rather complicated costumes I was planning but fortunately, much simpler options abound. Thus, I spent a happy afternoon bundled up in blankets tearing sheeting into thin strips, which was surprisingly satisfying. Rrriiipppp!

It also brought back memories; over a dozen years ago, I’d dyed these sheets golden yellow and cut them into quarters for people to sit on at my son’s August wedding. The wedding was at a lovely local farm but it was a very hot year and the grass was burnt brown and too crispy to make for comfortable seating. My Friday Tidy friends were helping me make huge flower arrangements in big buckets which we had to tuck between trees and surround with bird netting to keep the thirsty sheep from eating them (and drinking the water). At the last minute, we strung a barrier of netting behind several trees and brought the flower arrangements forward for the ceremony, greatly disappointing the sheep, which baahed plaintively behind the netting as vows were exchanged. (Afterwards, we gave away the flowers to the guests and let the sheep have all the greens and the water, which they enjoyed very much.) And now the grandchildren, fruit and flower of that weeding, are my partners in costuming and much else besides.

A Heap Of Golden Strands

The ripped sheets made a big, fluffy mound of strips, all about an inch or less wide and beautifully fuzzy. Feeling too lazy to knit a skull cap (my first plan), I repurposed a brown woolly hat for a base. The strips were folded in half and the top loop pulled through a few stitches with a crochet hook. The long ends were tucked through the loop and left to dangle like shaggy dreadlocks, getting wildly tangled in the process. The cats were enchanted with this wonderful new game, rolling in the heap of strips and tossing them around playfully. I managed to knit a couple of ears and a plump tail to complete the look, and a kind neighbor modeled it so I could make sure it will sit properly for my friend on Halloween.

For the Tin Man, my grandson covered an auto funnel with slightly used foil and we used a hooded poncho made of shiny space blanket material for the head and body. A little shiny duct tape allowed some fine tuning of the body shape (which was definitely sack-like) and we taped on tapered tubes of space blanket for arms. A silver belt, a few details like arm “joints” and it was…very shiny! Maybe not so elegant, but for someone who is going to be working while wearing it, it certainly will give the proper Tin Man effect and allow freedom of movement. It’s also very warm indeed, allowing the wearer to be in a tee shirt and tights even if the evening is as chilly as projected. She’ll stay dry, too, even if it rains, bonus!

The Astonishing Creativity of Children

Meanwhile, my granddaughter was working on her costume as her favorite herb, self-heal, sewing multi-layered leaves to cover her arms and making masses of little purple-blue florets to be attached to a black headdress she made. At six, she’s a very confident sewist, and politely asked her mom to give her a little more space so she could work out her own ideas(!). For the leaves, she cut out veins, sewed them to the background layer, then added a sheer green layer with a sparkly one on top. My grandson is crafting a magnificent phoenix firebird with wide wings and tail in vivid reds and oranges, with enormous, glowing eyes and a curving raptor beak that will be part of the head piece.

Self Heal, with Phoenix in the mirror

Their ferocious pumpkins are already decorating my porch, bristling with toothpicks and mysterious bits of floating ghostly pumpkin in their auras. When my grandson was two, he made his first hedgehog pumpkin, which is now a firm tradition. Each year, they remind me that we’ll be needing a goodly supply of toothpicks to make their jack-o-lanterns properly memorable, and so they certainly are. While the general trend is for pop culture costumes, I love that my family’s traditions lean more into the Hieronymus Bosch school of weirdness, with strangely interwoven leaves and beaks and wings and extra ears galore. Moving onward, looking backward too, right?

Posted in Crafting With Children, Health & Wellbeing, Native Plants, Sustainable Living | Tagged , | 2 Comments

Costumes From Nature

Posted on October 17, 2022 by Ann Lovejoy
Print Friendly, PDF & Email

Night flying moth costume with sparkles

Wearing The Garden

With Halloween on the horizon, my thoughts are turning to costume making. As a child, I loved making my own costumes, from a bat with big wings sewn on from wrist to ankle to a bird with hand-cut paper feathers to a mushroom (lots of paper mache over chicken wire) and a many-petaled rose with a ruffly skirt made from recycled prom gowns (which cost a quarter each at the annual town rummage sale). Apart from the occasional fairy, nearly all my costumes were inspired by the time I spent in the garden or playing in the nearby woods. These days, my grandkids are always more excited about the costumes than about the candy, partly because they have a family tradition of the generous and funny Halloween Witch, who trades toys and books for excess candy (isn’t that brilliant?).

We also make a lot of everyday costumes, which might include impromptu capes and crowns, or robot arms or giant eyes, but Halloween calls for even bolder designs, from enormous wings and stuffed octopus arms (made from many pairs of old tights attached to a single waistband; it jiggled in a very peculiar way and looked oddly pornographic even on a four year old). Last year, my grandson made a fantastic costume of a blood sucking mosquito, with a very long proboscis and plump belly full of flashing red lights to look like blood (battery powered for freedom of movement). He’s equally as inventive as his sister, if usually in a different direction, and they both enjoy coming up with wild ideas that somehow actually become a costume.

Lions And Moths And Herbs, Oh My!

My granddughter is often nature inspired in her art, and at 6 years old, she’s already an ardent herbalist with well over 50 herbs she can recognize and explain uses for. Last year, she and her mom concocted an amazing night flying moth costume, which made excellent use of Granny’s outrageous fabric stash. This year, she’s making her own costume with just a little help; she’s dressing up as one of her favorite herbs, Self-Heal (aka Prunella vulgaris, heart-of-the-earth, heal-all, and woundwort). I’m thrilled about this, as I’m also fond of self-heal, and I’ve always left this modest herb to wander in and around the garden, honoring its popularity with pollinators as well as its ancient healing history. Native to North America, it’s also considered circumboreal, widely distributed throughout Europe and Eurasia. Like others of the mint clan, this sturdy perennial has made its way throughout the world’s temperate zones, finding favor with pretty much every culture that recognizes it. I’m not sure exactly why this demure plant captured my granddaughter’s imagination. However, she’s hard at work creating large leaves that will cover her arms, and a clever  headdress that will be studded with purple florets. I definitely look forward to seeing what she comes up with this time!

This morning I was asked to help create a lion costume for a participant in the Senior Center’s upcoming Queer Bingo event. There’s nothing more fun than a surprise request for a little creativity and I’m already searching for just the right materials. For the mane, I’m inspired by the humble calendula, with its shaggy heads of yellow, orange, or tawny petals. I’ll make both a stretchy head piece and a long tail from strips of cloth and long loops of fuzzy yarn in those autumnal colors, and face paint can do the rest of the work. If the process goes well and supplies hold out, I’ll make a sunny calendula headdress for myself, what could be more cheerful? Plus as costumes go, that might be a pretty simple one to make and wear, important when I’ll be at a crowded bingo event (a scholarship fundraiser for LGBTQA students) where delicate details won’t count but sturdy flexibility will be my friend. Now I have to ask: What are YOU going as?

Calendulas are always cheerful and almost ever blooming

 

Posted in Annual Color, Crafting With Children, Gardening With Children, Hardy Herbs, Native Plants, Pollination Gardens, Sustainable Gardening, Sustainable Living, Teaching Gardening | Tagged , , | 2 Comments