Meet Oskar

Oskar isn’t a puppy or a kitten but a red amaryllis bulb. Oskar is the variety name for this giant red and there are undoubtedly millions of them—but then there are millions of Davids and Anns too. One of my garden books says that the best bulbs are sold by name rather than color; the named ones are grown “vegetatively” while the ones sold by color are grown from seed and not as good a quality*. The Latin name for amaryllis, Hippeastrum, is variably defined as knight on a horse, knight star or horse star (because it’s so big).

It’s been awhile since I’ve grown an amaryllis but I decided that it would be nice to have one for Christmas, and to share its growth with you.

I bought Oskar at a giant home improvement store, checking through several boxes to find one that had sprouted a bud rather than only leaves—sometimes if leaves come first, that’s all you get.

Boxes and boxes were stacked shoulder high; red, red & white striped, pink, pink & white, white & pink as well as white vied for attention. I leaned toward getting the deep pink but somehow, in my mind, amaryllis and red always go together—especially at Christmas. Besides, it had a gold-colored pot and I’ve inherited from my great grandmother, a fondness for gold paint.

My first memory of anything to do with amaryllis flowers is the name of the little girl in the movie The Music Man. A pint-sized Ron Howard liked her but was too embarrassed to talk to her since his lisp made her name very difficult to say.


Much later, though as I said, I had grown several amaryllis plants and photographed them and had drawn and painted most any other kind of flower, for some reason I couldn’t draw or paint an amaryllis. But I persisted and accomplished this collage/painting The Lord Turns My Darkness to Light.

*Crockett’s Indoor Garden, James Underwood Crockett; p.12

Golden Morning

I'm listening to the Weston Priory Brothers gently singing, and looking out at golden-lit pine tops while Cardinals and Blue Jays coast from one bare limb to another. Nameless smaller birds flit higher--in the pine tops, their smooth bellies reflecting the golden morning.

But then I see it; the Mexican Petunia curves up the balcony corner, branches (few as there are) reach through the rails into air, where last night’s incessant rain toppled it. So I run into the cold to right it. Brrr, a sweater isn’t enough; and to think that last night we were “sweltering.” I set the small pot with its giraffe resident up again. And again. Finally I’m hoping that the mono-filament line that gave the hyacinth bean vine height will now give stability to the Mexican Petunia.

The warmth of the morning sun on my indoor garden is more to my liking than the outdoor chill. Now that the pear leaves are gone, the bright light reveals dusty “Lucky Bamboo” and dracaena leaves. Warm water on a cloth or paper towel not only clears dust from the plants’ breathing apparatus but adds welcome humidity. Since dust always dulls color; their colors now shine brighter and that’s (almost) always good.

What’s in Your Garden?

Yesterday at church, an elder’s sermon asked the question, “What’s in your garden?” What kinds of thoughts do you plant in the garden of your life; what kinds of TV programs are planted there? Are they the kind that bear good and wholesome fruit or are they more closely related to thorns?

Botanically, thorns are stems that have gone awry through mutation; they were originally created to be stems or branches bearing leaves and flowers but became instead, deadly barbs. Even beautifully flowering plants such as bougainvillea, roses and cacti can have ferocious thorns and must be handled carefully.

When Adam and Eve sinned in the Garden of Eden, the land became cursed and would no longer produce good things without a lot of hard work—along with “thorns and thistles” (Genesis 3:17-18). The ransom of the earth from the curse brought on by human sin is tied to the ransom of humans by Jesus’ death and resurrection (Romans 8:19-23). Perhaps then, it’s no coincidence that Jesus wore a crown of thorns when he died on the cross.

The above picture is my garden as it was last May— these days, weather and migration to the indoor garden have left it looking sparse. However, I found this morning that a miniature orange zinnia has bloomed. With temperatures in the 60’s and 70’s, spring just may return—and if not, I have some ideas…

Colorful Company

The stalwart white petunias are no longer alone and no longer colorless. They have cheerful orange and purple violas (or Johnny Jump Ups) to keep them company. In pigments (such as paint or dye) white is considered to be a non-color (though in light, it contains all the colors). To an artist who paints in vibrant colors, white by itself just isn't enough. However, white petunias seem to have the most wonderful fragrance of all their fellows, so they usually find a place in my colorful world.

The petunias, though amazingly hardy in the face of several frosts, were nonetheless battered by an unknown assailants—probably snails or slugs. With trimming and new color, the whole garden-in-a-pot looks a lot better. I hope the slimy eaters don’t like violas.

I had bundled up in jacket, hat and scarf to venture out for the transplant but soon realized (after greeting a neighbor who probably wondered) that it was far warmer than I thought. Huh. Oh well, no problem; I easily remedied the situation by unbundling.

Gardens for Life

Happy Thanksgiving! Today in the U.S. we’re celebrating Thanksgiving Day. Many have lost sight of the intent for the day and can only think of turkey, football and “Black Friday” materialism but the original Thanksgiving, which has been reiterated by many presidential proclamations, was for the purpose of thanking God for his provision of life and the sustaining of it through food and safety.

The Pilgrims who celebrated this first Thanksgiving were a church from England, formed in the 1600’s when they saw no hope for positive change in the Church of England. They were persecuted for believing that a person could have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ and for wanting to see “the churches of God revert to their ancient purity and recover their primitive order, liberty and beauty” (William Bradford)*, for believing that no one but Jesus could be the head of the church. They were “hounded, bullied, forced to pay assessments to the Church of England, clapped into prison on trumped up charges, and driven underground,” and “constantly spied upon”*. Finally, (to put it very simply) these “Separatists” had had enough and left England and set out for the “New World” of “America”.

When they arrived in the “New World” at Plymouth (now in the state of Massachusetts) weary from stormy seas and cramped quarters many became ill and died. Those who survived had little to work with physically or materially and knew nothing of this wilderness. Through an amazing combination of events, God sent the “Indian” Squanto to help them survive. He taught them how to fish and grow crops. Ah, here’s the garden part. Without the growing of food plants, they would have all died. Gardens were essential to their survival. But it wasn’t enough to just sow their seeds, even doing it the right way, it was up to God to make the seeds grow and give them favorable weather.

For this they were profoundly grateful. They celebrated God’s provision with a feast—together, as a community (not just as separate families). They invited some “Indian” friends who brought about a hundred more! In addition to the wild game the “Indians” brought, they shared from their gardens, “carrots, onions, turnips, parsnips, cucumbers, radishes, beets and cabbages.”* The “Indians” had also dried and brought some summer fruits from the wild—God’s garden, “and introduced them to the likes of blueberry, apple, and cherry pie.”* They had popcorn too!

Thank you Lord for gardens and farms and for those who work hard tending them to grow our food.



*The Light and The Glory by Peter Marshall & David Manuel

Appropriate Colors

I met a chameleon this morning as I trimmed frost-damaged yellow green sweet potato vine leaves. Though clinging to the green vine that I was “disturbing” and very near the off-white railing, he or she was a dark taupe color. Perhaps its squinting eyes were an indication that I had awakened it and it hadn’t had a chance to put on its proper colors. I assured it that I would be finished soon and wouldn’t disturb it further.

When I went back just now to see if I could find it to make a portrait, the chameleon had indeed turned green!

It’s another sunny though wet and breezy morning, the kind to bask in and the chameleon, despite the parade of noisy trucks passing through, seems to relish it. But I have many things to accomplish though the sunlight and breeze definitely make my tasks more pleasant.

Silver Glow

Here it is nearly Thanksgiving and the temperatures are in the 70’s again—eventually. The morning air is chilly but fresh, almost like spring but without allergies.

The pear tree’s branches know it’s autumn though with only a few leaves dangling, yet many new buds emerging (I used to think that trees went dormant once their leaves dropped but close observation told me the truth despite the analogies teachers like to make). It could even, like some cherry trees I saw, bloom in the mild weather. I used to be alarmed when I saw such a bonus, worrying about the trees’ spring display but they were fine.

The bougainvillea, though it has dropped a lot of leaves, is producing tiny new ones. To my amazement, the angelonias and pentas continue to bloom indoors; though the heliotrope is still opening a few flowers they’re no longer heliotrope but white.

All, including the two red hibiscus blossoms are enjoying the silver glow of the morning light. Fewer pear leaves means more sunlight that beams into and through the next room! It’s a balm to me as well. I’m beginning to produce more new leaves and flowers too—after dropping some old ones.

Fall Flowers

I finally splurged and bought a few violas to add some color to the stalwart white petunias. I never cover these petunias but they keep blooming—I rarely even water them since they’re in an inconvenient spot for watering.

The violas or Johnny Jump Ups were some of the few flowering plants available since most have been cleared for Christmas trees. These have a lot of spent blooms; some have even gone to seed. Though not in the best shape, they were some of the best of the group, and I can definitely rescue them. Some dead-heading and watering will improve their outlook.

I’ve had to do a lot of trimming today since I was half asleep when I heard Friday night’s cold forecast. Most survived well except for the long branches. It seems the farther a branch was from its source, the more damage it received. With more warm days and mild nights here and there, they may actually sprout new leaves, though those are more vulnerable.

The day started off without much hope for the weather. The forecast was for drizzle off and on all day. The way the sun is shining now, that doesn’t seem likely.

Frosty Morning

On a recent frosty morning, a fog of white frost crystals flew into the air when I removed the garden’s covering sheets. This morning however, the wind had already removed the sheets for me leaving the plants shivering, though probably less so because of the wind. I guess it’s a trade-off.

The morning sunlight is increasing exponentially as the pear tree drops its orange leaves. The many plants gathered there at the windows have a happy glow. There are, after all, some good things about bare branches.

Snap, Crackle, Pop, & Stripes

Last night’s cold front brought more rain and much cooler temperatures. We prepared for heavy winds by taking the hanging baskets and wind chimes down but thankfully had no problems; sadly, others in the wider area had great damage.

After an initial snap, crackle and pop of rain hitting crisp autumn leaves, this morning’s rain poured at a rare angle, completely saturating the garden.

Tonight a hard freeze is forecast so it’s time to find an indoor spot for the Tropicana Canna. They crave lots of light, humidity and water so wintering this one indoors will be a challenge. A location where the sun back-lights the leaves would be ideal to show off their colorfully striped beauty. It will also need elbow room to unfurl. I will however, wait to bring it in until the rain has had a chance to evaporate so it won’t drip off the leaves onto the carpet—and me.

Firecracker Surprise

As I sat in the sunroom earlier this week reading the Bible and enjoying my surroundings, I glimpsed a spot of color behind one of my Christmas cacti. Was it a bud? I still have my sense of wonder and was delighted to discover two scarlet buds! Hmm, if this one is budding, maybe the other one is as well. Yes, it had a fully opened pink blossom with another close behind!

My Christmas cacti bloom sporadically and always on the side closest to the window; their firecracker blooms can burst open before I know it. The flowers don’t last very long so I have to enjoy them right away. I turned the pots so that the flowers face me; today I brought the scarlet one off its shelf into full view so I can enjoy its full glory.

Last night as I looked through a houseplant book I was reminded that many of my plants like high humidity. They’re getting plenty today with temperatures in the mid to upper 70’s and lots of rain coming!

The pink and scarlet “firecrackers” and a red hibiscus brighten the gray day.

A New Leaf

A garden book told me that cutting old, dull Tropicana Canna leaves off will provoke new growth. So I bid goodbye to the leaves with grasshopper holes and those whose stripes had faded. Now it has an abundance of new red and gold striped leaves! None seem hurt by the cold weather as long as they were covered.

The vendor I bought the canna from said that it will “die back” but to keep watering it through the winter and it will grow again in the spring—hers have for years. I think though that when it looks like the cold will triumph, I’ll find a place for the striped beauty indoors.

Red Trio

Yesterday morning, I was thrilled to spot not one, not two but three red hibiscus blossoms! On my bush at least, it’s not only unusual to have three blooms at a time but unheard of to have three blooms indoors—and on a cloudy day! The red beauties brightened the cloudy morning and gave me a smile.


What wondrous autumn colors we have in the countryside! We also had wonderful weather over the weekend to explore some new-to-us areas. I wanted to inhale the beauty into my soul so that I would have it over though winter’s colorless days. I love taking photos of God’s glorious creation but pictures don’t quite have the impact of walking in sunshine, feeling a cool breeze blowing across your face, looking out at a mountain vista, marveling at the reds, oranges and golden yellows of the backlit autumn leaves, crunching fallen leaves underfoot.

Autumn has also fallen indoors as I’m still picking up various plants’ leaves as they adjust to their new drier environment. It’s nothing to be concerned about though, since they’re still pushing forth new leaves.

The pear tree outside our window is finally turning red, orange and yellow. Our area foliage is at its peak of color. There’s a particular stately ginkgo tree in town that’s one of the last trees to turn. We saw it Friday in its full golden glory; what a crescendo!

Saving Seeds

The hyacinth bean vine and the four o’clocks have produced mature seeds for the harvesting. They can be planted next year for a new crop; until then, they, and the remaining ones can be saved for several years in a cool, dry place. Glassine envelopes are often recommended but I’ve noticed that many seed companies are packaging their seeds in resealable foil packs so I’m saving foil-lined tea bag packages. I once met the guy who invented foil-lined packaging—thanks Mr. B!

Saving seeds of old varieties has become an important endeavor as hybrids are quickly replacing them. Hybrids can only be grown from patented seeds that you buy from the grower. While hybrids will often produce seeds in your home garden and even grow, the plant will revert to one of its parents rather than the beautiful hybrid that you bought. Sometimes that’s good but it’s not usually what you’re looking for. When we lived in New England, we learned what a problem this is for farmers. They can no longer save seed from their harvest to plant for next year’s crop—they have to spend a lot of money to buy more seed.

I enjoy hybrid flowers but many hybrid flowers and vegetables are “designed” for a particular market such as tough-skinned tomatoes that can withstand long-distance trucking and a long shelf-life in stores, but are fairly tasteless—that’s why home-grown tomatoes taste so much better. While roses aren’t generally grown from seed, they’re an illustration of contrast between the old varieties and those grown “for the market”. The voluptuous old-fashioned “cabbage roses” with their full-blown petals and heady fragrance are unmatched in their style of beauty but they could never stand up to the rigors of the floral industry. The closely-wrapped petals and long, sturdy stems of the American Beauty–type rose are better suited to last for their trip from the greenhouse to the wholesaler to the florist to your home but lack much fragrance (you can make them last longer still by changing their water every day and recutting the stems at an angle). It’s a trade-off but our planet would suffer loss if the only plants cultivated were those of market convenience.

Besides, it’s fun to share seed with other gardeners. My friend R. gave me hyacinth bean vine seeds from her garden.

Sky Symphony

Pouring rain doesn’t deter the chickadees, cardinals and blue jays from chirruping and rushing from tree to tree. Another crowd of pilots are in no hurry at all but are taking a bug break on the lawn.

Now that the rain has stopped, sky water gurgles through the gutters sounding like a mountain brook.

Though the temperatures aren’t expected to climb out of the fifties today, the air is fresh…washed.

The pineapple sage blossom has developed a beautiful arch as it opened; another is beginning.

Garden to Art

Gardens and my art have nearly always intertwined. I grew up around my grandmothers’ gardens and at home, in a creative atmosphere. When I realized (later than most) that it was time to go back to college I began working in flower shops to help finance my education. Since art school was my goal and I wanted to draw flowers, it made sense to get to know flowers even more personally.

During my college years (there were many) I had the opportunity to plant a garden amidst the mature landscape of the older house where we lived. I yanked English Ivy out of the neglected soil until I fell over backwards. More than once, I came face to face with angry bees that left me with a souvenir of the encounter. But I grew the garden pictured here.

Okay, so all these flowers didn’t bloom at once--though most could have, but that’s the beauty of art. Though my painting teacher frowned on such romance, when I graduated from her excellent training I consolidated my reference photos to paint The Artist’s Garden.

Hmm…a small garden spider just hopped onto my mouse pad—definitely harmless to me…

Morning Sun

I love seeing the morning sun shine in; I even made a sitting area by the windows so I could drink it in and naturally, the plants came to join me there.

I’m hunting through thrift shops for small ceramic pots for my really small indoor plants since the terra cotta ones dry out much too quickly when they’re that small. If I don’t find any, I’ll go back to the blue and yellow box store—or maybe the orange one. I need good quality, color (the “right” colors of course) and a low price.

The afternoon temperature is forecast to be 70 degrees—I need to arrange my time and activities to sit in the garden to soak up the warm sun there while I still can. The stores and radio stations are already leading up to Christmas, “its right around the corner.”

Sun Effects

My arrangement of water globes definitely catches the sunlight—even if I did have to get on my hands and knees to photograph it (I learned to do this from a professional photographer). One of my favorite aspects of colored or stained glass is the way the sun lights it; it can be beautiful on its own but there’s nothing like the combination of light and color!

The arrangement of sunlight has definitely changed with clocks turned back to Standard Time; I think the plants in the morning windows will benefit most since we open the curtains early. Even outdoors, the east-facing pots have held up to the cold weather better since the rising sun dispels some of the chill.

However, over the weekend the combination of sun, furnace and our busy comings and goings left some of the recently migrated indoor plants in need of dried leaf removal. Oops! I checked and watered them before I went out but they apparently dried out before I knew it. Remember, they’re still in terra cotta pots. But thankfully, they’re not too much worse for the wear.

Leaves that droop or wither can often be revived as with the spider plantlet “Lazarus” but if they’re yellow or brown--they’re gone. Go ahead and cut them off since the plant will put its energy into trying to revive the leaves instead of making new ones—it simply can’t bring that kind back. (While this can be a parable for some parts of life, it does not apply to marriage or necessarily physical health because God is able to revive that which was dead!)

Safe Harbor

It began raining last night; I’m sure the water pipe repairmen digging a huge hole in the ground so deep that they had to look up to see out, were glad that they had filled it in before the rain started! Will “inclement” weather prevent them from digging and replacing the next part and leaving us once again without running water? A recorded message at the office hinted so. But I’ll still be prepared.

A fresh breeze blows through the dampness giving the air a comforting feel that reminds me of harboring at my grandmother’s house as a child too sick to go to school. It may have only been one cool rainy morning but the memory stuck as a good one.

However, I prefer to be indoors in such weather; the larger heliotrope plant seems to be happier indoors too. The bougainvillea however, is going through its annual leaf drop. It does well enough indoors, even blooms a little but invariably drops its leaves when its environment changes, then grows new ones. It seems that I’m forever picking up leaves but at least it doesn’t have to have a litter box or be walked.

The Last Flowers of Summer?

Perhaps this is the last arrangement of my garden “flowers” for the season. The Victoria Blue Salvia is more intensely blue violet with the cold weather and the Parrot Leaf is as bright as ever, not seeming to mind the cold one bit (yet). When I uncovered them this morning I was struck by the intensity of their colors and knew that a cobalt blue “vase” would magnify that intensity. Why not bring some in before they were gone since both “flowers” were plentiful? (When I was younger, it seemed that all the “older” women referred to everything in a garden that wasn’t vegetable or tree as “flowers”).

I spent several years in the floral industry but I still like my grandmother’s flower arranging style, “They need to look natural like they do when they’re growing.” She was ahead of her time. ☺

In the garden I saw two bright red male cardinals vying for territory and, probably, a mate. I can’t remember when I last saw cardinals around here.

Two Kinds of Singers

Has something changed? What has drawn a variety of birds wheeling and swooping around our back easement? The vibrant blue of a male blue jay has been scarce until today. The birds seemed intent but not distressed. I don’t know what’s different except that the calendar has changed to November but birds don’t generally read calendars. Is it the cool, fresh air? We’ve been buoyed by that for awhile. Maybe the local cats are involved. I don’t think anyone is feeding the birds’ expensive tastes. When I’m outdoors, I’m aware that there are so many aspects of God’s creation, so many potential factors of influence that I don’t know anything about.

The red hibiscus seems happy to be back in its winter home, blooming twice today behind the Hawaiian Ti plant. When I brought the beauty queen in, I heard a high “singing.”
“That’s pleasant. We have our own natural soloist.” Then the cricket’s “song” became louder—and shriller.
“That cricket will eat your plants! We’ve got to get it out of here,” my husband insisted.
Oh yeah, there’s that. But where was it? The loud “singing” directed our search to the hibiscus but our eyes couldn’t see what our ears heard.

Then we brought in the large flashlight and there it was—a tiny brown cricket with a “voice” that belied its size. Experience with the huge green grasshoppers taught me how to capture and remove this mini. I moved quickly out through the door and into the garden to grab my garden gloves and an empty plastic pot then rushed back in to scoop the interloper into the pot. Out again I rushed and sent it flying over the rail into the bush below. Ah, relief.

Hardy Sorts—Sort of

My remaining outdoor garden plants have much more space around them now that I’ve brought many indoors for the winter. However, I have a little more room to arrange them; I enjoy decorating.

Where rearranging is less of an option, I’ve grouped some water globes in a vacant pot. I’ll watch to see how the sun shines through them in the afternoon to see if I need to move or spread them.

I love colored glass and got to see the Dale Chihuly exhibit twice when it came to town. The exhibit featured a walkway with a strong Plexiglas ceiling covered with a kaleidoscope of lighted colored glass. Walking through the color wonderland thrilled me! I’m excited to share a link to a picture of a similar installation! http://www.chihuly.com/ceilings-persian-pergola-ceiling-2002_detail.aspx

It was so cold last night that it was only 33 degrees at 9am! Yet these are plants that survived it, covered with a sheet: Tropicana Canna, Sweet Potato Vine, Hyacinth Bean Vine, Parrot Leaf, Daylily, Basil, Pineapple Sage, Peppermint, Victoria Blue Salvia, Mexican Petunia. Remember, watering is vital to plant survival in the cold; dehydration is what kills plants in the cold.

The sickening sound of three beautiful shade trees being chopped down to prevent future problems with the continually problematic community water pipes has begun.