The Gardeners Anonymous Blog

Greenthumb Sunday

There is a fungus among us.
Or would it be, a fungi among I?

Stumble It!

Gardener Blogger's Bloom Day, January 15

It’s Gardener Bloggers Bloom Day. Well it was, yesterday anyway because it’s the 16th and I was suppose to get this done on the 15th.

It’s been unusually cold outside for the last couple of days.
I’ve made it clear on several occasions that I don’t like the cold.
So I ran around my yard as fast as I could, snapping photos so I could run back in the house and warm up my fingers. I will spare you the fuzzy photos and just show you the ones that came out. Two. Yes only two came out.

Here they are.

Thank you Carol of May Dreams Gardens for starting this monthly tradition.

Things that are in bloom:

Azalea
Bacopa
Calendula
Camellia
Fuchsia
Primrose
Salvia (hot lips)
Some sort of purple vine

Stumble It!

Thank Goodness It Only Happens Every Fifty Years—Part Two

I dragged my kids back into the mall. They didn’t want to go to any more stores (remember, they're boys), so we sat on extremely uncomfortable benches, and I watched as my children slowly tortured each other. They didn’t really fight. It was sort of whine fest. “Mom, he was staring at me.” “Was not, and besides, he stuck his tongue out at me.” “Did not, besides, he pinched me.” “I did not pinch you. You kicked me.” “I did not.”

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I stood up and said; ”I’m going to try to start the car again. Don’t kill each other while I’m gone.”

I instructed my boys to watch outside one of the mall entrances for me if indeed I did get the car started.


Flooding at the back of our property.

I’m not a praying person, but I did plead out loud with my car. I begged it, I willed it to start. I put the key into the ignition and turned it. Miraculously the sluggish engine started to catch and I revved it so hard that I scared the begeesus out of the woman getting into the car next to me.

I threw it into reverse, and with a squeak of tires I was off to pick up the whiner children. For a moment, the boys, who were chasing each other around the mall directory, didn’t see me. Then together they looked my direction, like a couple of meerkats, and came running. Out through the rain and into my steamy—but running—car.

We were happily on our way towards home. The boys looked over their Lego box plunder, while I sang show tunes and my tires cut a wake through the pouring rain. I think I sang something from Grease.

We were just outside of town and about four miles from our house when I saw it, the Megan’s Law sign. A sign that during a severe storm would say something like “gusty winds ahead, drive carefully” or “heavy rains and dangerous conditions ahead.”
or, “Hwy 17 closed at Hwy 9 to all traffic.”

Huh? But, but, but that’s my highway. That means I can’t get home? That means I’m trapped in the car with my children. Nooooooooooooooo.

I turn on the radio to my trusty AM station that gives traffic reports every 5 minutes. Sure enough, an update tells me that there is no way I can drive home right now. There are two mudslides on the highway. Wait. I have two boys who have been together for 14 days straight. Don’t they know that? I have four-wheel drive. Can’t I just drive over the mudslide? The update also tells me that the back way to our home—that normally takes an extra 45 minutes, but that I would be willing to do—it also closed because of downed trees.

I’m in hell.

Now my boys and I are zigzagging through every single back alley and neighborhood street that I know, avoiding the traffic back-up in town that’s due to two closed highways. We are hoping against hope that they are letting local residents up to their houses.

What was I thinking? Now my boys and I are sitting in traffic with all the other local residents with the same hopes. We have been waiting for 45 minutes.

The number of times my boys have asked, “Why are we sitting here?” 15.
The number of times they have asked: “How much longer?”: 23. The number of times they have asked: “When are we going to get home?” 39.
The number of times I have said: “Please, stop asking that question.” 51.

I finally decide to park the car. There is a parking spot just ahead. No one seems to be interested in parking because they are still holding onto the faint hope that the road will open and they will be at the front of the line to get home. But I spoke to a guy that spoke to this other guy, who talked to one of the Caltrans guys who said that the road wasn’t going to be open for at least three more hours.
So I’m going to take the parking spot two cars ahead of me, park, and then take my kids somewhere fun to pass the time.

The road to the top of our hill.

Greenthumb Sunday

A close-up of the beautiful oak tree I lost during "the storm".

Stumble It!

Thank Goodness It Only Happens Every Fifty Years

My friend Paree told me today that if she had to listen to me retell the story of how I didn’t have power for 3 days, she’d slit her wrists. So I decided, much to her horror, to write it down in detail and make it a three-part series. Then I think I’ll just keep emailing it to her over and over under different headings. I might even send it to her disguised as a New Years card, since I haven’t sent mine out yet.

I knew I was in trouble when the radio weather person while talking about the impending 50-year storm said that “people in the mountains should be prepared” because we would suffer the brunt of the storm.

She went on to say that we should take down our Christmas decorations. Wow, This is one harsh storm, I thought, if it was going to knock down my Christmas decorations. How did they know that I hadn’t taken them down yet? Then I realized that she was talking about outdoor decorations like lights, plastic snowmen, blow-up Santas, things like that. The wind could lift up your twiggy reindeer and chuck it though your living room window or create some equally hideous disaster.

There was a series of three storms coming. Thursday the first storm blew in. It wasn’t bad. My older son and I even went running during the first part of the storm. It was a little windy and a little rainy. It was a medium, as far as California storms go.

At around 4A.M. Friday morning, the biggest of the three storms hit. I lay awake in the dark, feeling warm and cozy, listening to the wind and the rain—one of my favorite things to do. Little did I know how much lying in the dark I would be doing in the next four days.

I was excited. We needed the rain. 2006 had been a dry winter and it had been a dry year to date.

I woke up the next morning to a first-class storm.

I dressed for yoga and took off down the road to my yoga class.

When I returned home through the driving wind and heavy rain, I found the power out and my husband and two children at each other’s throats.

This was day fourteen of my kid’s winter vacation. They had been together every day and they had been fighting every day. In my Zen state I was not prepared to spend another day with them in the house with no power without taking a large amount of prescription medication.

I told the kids to get into my car with their Christmas gift certificates. No argument, they jumped into the car and off we went through the crazy rain and wind. There are some that may think this was a dangerous thing to do. Those people have never been in the same room with my two sons on day fourteen of their winter vacation with no power.

My kids the day before the storm, during happier times, with electricity.

The Fifty-Year Storm

I was going to write about my one-year blog anniversary but then the 50-year storm happened and no-computer-for-three-days happened.

105-mile-per-hour winds.

7¬-10 inches of rain.

Mudslides.

Thousands of downed trees.

650 power poles knocked over.

The road to my house was closed for five hours because of two mudslides.

No power for three days.

No heat for three days

No blow dryer.

When I think of the last item, I still become very emotional.

My family and I survived thanks to a 50-year-old propane stove, candles, a woodstove, and several packages of brand-new Legos.

We all came through unscathed, except my hair.

Stumble It!

Happy New Years from Gardener’s Anonymous

Buddha with my first camelia flower of the season

I can only think of one useful piece of advice for the new year to come, for all those that are making resolutions. Here is it. It comes from my friend Holly the pastry chef. (For all you who don’t have one, it’s really nice to have a friend who’s a pastry chef—or any chef for that matter.)

Holly says that if you want to change something in your day-to-day life, you have to do it for forty days in row. After forty days it becomes habit. This is not easy, but it works.