The Gardeners Anonymous Blog

Rattlesnake Season-The Third Anniversary of My Rattlesnake Bite

I blew out my knee this week, and I am now on crutches. This reminds me that three years ago, I was on crutches for an entirely different reason. While photographing wildflowers on a trail near my house, I was bitten by a Northern Pacific Rattlesnake – a really big one, at that.

I stepped right on it while adjusting my camera. After it bit me, I shook the snake off my leg; secured the two dogs I was hiking with, sat down, and called my girlfriend. She lives at the trailhead, and I wanted her to call 9-1-1 from her landline for a faster response time.

I was rescued, I live to tell the tale, and I don’t even have a scar to show for all my suffering. Sometimes I contemplate getting a tattoo to commemorate the event. People ask me all the time if I still hike that trail. Of course I hike there. Why should I let something like that run my life? Receiving a legitimate bite by a rattlesnake is extremely rare, especially in the foothills of Los Gatos, California.

A couple days before my recent knee accident, I took my new neighbors out on that very trail. They were looking for a place to walk their dog. I was excited to show them the trail I walk at least 4 times a week, the trail where I had my misunderstanding with the rattler. It’s a beautiful hike where we often see deer, bobcat, herons, and hawks. And, the dogs love it.

As we walked, I told them the story. They were both wearing shorts and hiking sandals. Halfway through my story we came upon the place where I was bitten. My neighbors became oddly quiet, and started to slow their pace. I kept telling them they didn’t have to worry about it. “Just be careful and watch where you step. Stay on the trail. If for some reason you must go off the trail, you should wear boots, and perhaps carry a stick to test the area where you are about to place your feet. That’s all.”

I could see that my ophiophabia calming techniques weren’t exactly working on them. In their minds, they were packing their bags and moving…again.

I Want My Cecile Back

Butterfly clinging to spent Cecile Brunner blossoms.

Putting a plant in the proper location with pay you back in spades. I planted this Cecile Brunner climbing rose two years ago as a small plant.

Look at it now.

Look at it no

Watching this beautiful old rose’s first blooms open made me so happy. Though the days were overcast and cool, the tiny pale-pink blossoms held the promise of spring. But spring never came. Nope, we went directly to summer. We had daily temps in the nineties for a week. Hot and gross. I watched the little pink buds open and droop faster than my face in my fifties. 

I was terribly disappointed that I had so little time to enjoy that carpet of soft pink.  Cecile Brunner climbing roses bloom only once. I felt so cheated. I needed to see that profusion of little pink blooms just once more before the onslaught of hot summer temperatures. I was so disheartened that I decided to deadhead the whole vine. 

It’s not like I didn’t have at least twenty more important chores to do. I just couldn’t help myself. I cut every one of those tiny spent blossoms off that damn vine until my carpal tunnel started acting up, and I don’t even have carpal tunnel. I think I developed Cecile tunnel. 

I left only a few dead blooms at the top of vine on the roof, which I couldn’t reach. 

I have heard that deadheading will cause Cecile Brunner to bloom again, and I have also read that it won’t. All I can do is wait and see. 

Have you had any luck getting your Cecile Brunner vine to bloom a second time in one season?  Please tell me about it!

The Cavalry is Here

With spring comes flowers; and with flowers come beauty, fragrance, joy and…aphids.

Aphids have never really been a big problem in my yard because my garden is protected by soldiers. Yes, I support the troops, and these troops like to hang in my garden in the spring and dine on the soft bodies of those pesky aphids.

Ladybugs ain’t got nothin’ on Soldier Beetles. Soldier Beetles are the small beetles with the long thin orange bodies and the grey wings, and they eat almost as much as my teenagers.

So, in the springtime when I pass by plants covered in aphids, I have to stop myself from disturbing them. After all, I wouldn’t want take a meal from a soldier. 

No Cash For New Plants

 

Well, once again our family is in the midst of a cash flow crisis. Am I worried we may not have a roof over our heads? Food to eat? Gas for our cars so I can drive my kids to school? Maybe a little.

But the worst thing, the thing that eats away at me every morning when I hear the symphony of birds, smell the fresh spring air, and know that everything is sprouting and blooming …? This is my favorite time of year for planting and gardening. What bothers me most about our financial crisis?

Not having any money for plants! Wahhhhh!!!

What cheers me up? Perusing my garden, searching for annuals that made it thought the winter and seeing the plants that are already in my garden and already blooming. What a glorious time of year.

What To Do If You Are Stung by a Jellyfish Is urine really the answer? Should you give pee a chance?

Richard Schmidt's Surf Camp Beach the night of the now infamous jellyfish incident 

Drumroll please….

For all of you who read my last post and are anxiously awaiting the answer to the age-old question, “should you urinate on a jellyfish sting to stop the pain?” the answer is no! And who the hell thought of that in the first place? I’m sure alcohol was involved in some way.

Do not pee on your friend’s jellyfish sting unless you are hazing them into your fraternity. And don’t spray Windex on the sting either. Both these “remedies” actually irritate the wound more, plus they make you smell bad.

The first thing I did after being stung was to rinse off with fresh water.

That was the first thing I did was wrong.

Here I am hobbling out of the water on my red, swollen, jellyfish-stung legs. 

Jellyfish sting through nematocysts, which are tiny spine-covered tubules released from their tentacles. The spines anchor in your skin, and when the nematocysts fire, they inject various unpleasant chemicals into you. After coming in contact with a jellyfish tentacle, you may have thousands of these nematocysts attached to your skin, not all of which may fire right away.

When you pee on the sting or try to rinse it with fresh water, this changes the tonicity of the nematocysts, which causes them to fire, injecting you with even more venom. So, if you need to rinse off, always rinse with salt water first.

The second thing I did wrong was pouring vinegar on the sting.

You can apply vinegar to the sting, but it must stay on for 15 to 30 minutes, so you can soak a cloth and place it on the sting. In my case, vinegar didn’t help a damn bit.

If vinegar is not available, you can apply shaving cream, or use soap and make a lather, even a paste of sand or mud, then take a razor or credit card and shave or scrape the area to remove the stinging cells.

The third thing I did wrong was to spray Windex on the jelly sting. Windex, or anything with ammonia in it will further irritate the injury.

Most jelly stings are painful, but not dangerous. The box jelly, however, is a different story. Found off the coast of Australia, it can kill in a matter of minutes, depending on the age and health of the person stung. Medical treatment and antivenin are required.

Some people have allergic reactions to jellyfish stings, so watch for signs like difficulty breathing, hives, trouble swallowing, or loss of consciousness, and of course seek medical treatment immediately.

What I did right: I took two Benadryl. Antihistamines quell the body’s reaction to the venom.

My husband gave me some of this sunburn product about an hour after I was stung and it was a miracle, it completely took the pain away. I am expecting a case from the manufacturer for mentioning this product. But take my word for it. It works great!

Fun facts about jellys:

The jelly has no heart, no brain, no bones, and no other organs.

They cannot control what they sting, so they sting whatever they touch.

They are one of the few creatures that are multiplying and actually doing better with climate change as the oceans grow warmer.

It hurts like hell when they sting you.

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To Pee or Not to Pee

To Pee or Not to Pee

Never in my life have so many friends wanted to urinate on me as last week, when the news that I was stung by a large jellyfish came out on Facebook.

My family and I were on vacation in Costa Rica, our first vacation since 2004. We toured Arenal, Monteverde, the Area Rincon de Guanacaste, and ended up in Nosara to surf in Playa Guoines.

I am not a goodt surfer; I am, however, fairly resilient. My first day surfing was very windy.  My board whacked me hard on the head, and later collided with my jaw, and I received a mild jellyfish sting to the arm.

On my second day, my board hit me in the chin so hard I spent several stunned moments in the water floating on my back, wondering why my bathtub water was so salty.  I continued to surf in spite of these and many more scrapes and bruises, which of course were nothing against my steely surfing demeanor.

The third day surfing, I was enjoying a relatively injury-free evening session when I lost balance on my board.  I surrendered to it, falling backward into the water in a relaxed semi-seated position.

I landed on something very soft, lighter than air. Then the pain started. I felt the soft, sticky, stringy tentacles engulf first my left thigh, and then my right. Every place that the tentacles touched me felt like fire.  Lucky me, I had sat right down on a large jellyfish tuffet.  

I shot out of the water screaming every profanity in my extensive repertoire. I looked around, hoping against hope to see a gorgeous Tico lifeguard nearby, holding one of those red floaty things. Instead I saw my friends’ two 11 year-old sons bobbing up and down on their short boards, staring at me in horror: “Uh-oh, Mrs. Binell didn’t take her meds this morning.”

If I had had my wits about me, I would have gotten vertical, bent at the waist, and paddled away.  My instinct at that moment, however, was to reach down with both my hands and push the jelly away.  Big mistake.  As I tried to push the tentacles away from my legs, more wrapped around my right wrist and left elbow.  And then, of course, a large set of waves came rolling in. 

Oh crap.

I tried, but I couldn’t manage to get back on my board when the first wave hit. The wave thankfully washed the jellyfish away and drove my board toward shallower water, taking me with it.

I dug myself into a standing position, feet barely touching the sand, and reeled in my board as fast as I could. Another wave was fast approaching. My intent was to get on my board, roll under the wave, get back up, and to continue to surf.  “I can do this,” I thought through the pain.  I may be a terrible surfer but I’m tough, damn it!

I wasn’t fast enough.  The wave hit, and I folded like origami.

This time I didn’t pop out the water, I emerged like the Creature from the Black Lagoon, my hair plastered down, completely covering my face like Cousin It.  

My jellyfish stings freaking hurt.  I needed some pain medicine and a cocktail.  Immediately.  Maybe a few cocktails, along with the pain medicine.

Feb 20, 2013

Another flower from Arenal. This Etlinger elatior has many common names, torch ginger, ginger flower, red ginger lily, torch lily, wild ginger and Porcelain rose.

Feb 15, 2013

More Heliconia, from the base of Volcano Arenal.

After my familia and I went zipping through the forest, we dined on fresh pineapple at the zip lining station. For those of you that don't know, a pineapple is actually a fruiting bromeliad.

Feb 15, 2013

The Blogmistress of Gardeners Anonymous is in Costa Rica with her familia loca. Here is a photo from the base of Volcano Arenal of a heliconia taken this morning.

My Neighbor the Tree Hater vs. Me, the Tree Hugger

My neighbor left a note on my car and asked me to call him regarding a tree on my property. It turns out he wants me to cut it down. When I asked him why, his response was similar to the reason he asked me to cut down a tree about three years ago: it is messy, and the leaves will eventually fill up his gutters and litter his yard.

Suddenly memories of my days as president of my college Greenpeace chapter came careening back. Yes, I am that old.

The young Doug Fir that I have to cut down.

Fighting the urge to run downtown and chain myself to the young Douglas Fir in question, I sadly agreed to cut it down. Not because it will litter his yard with those ever-so-annoying fir needles, but because the tree is very close to the property line, and will eventually grow into his yard.

This is what the baby tree would have looked like some day.

Here I am laying on the ground staring up at the big Oak tree that I didn't cut down. so glad I didn't

The last tree he wanted me to cut down is an extremely healthy oak which is probably well into its second century of life. The tree does rain leaves down into his yard relentlessly, but it hangs over the area of his yard that features nothing more than a dilapidated shed and a pile of junk. What I’m saying is: the oak leaves actually make this part of his yard look better.

And I’m not cutting it down.

Here is a list of reasons why some people should worry more about trees, and less about their gutters: