Only two hermits remain. The ninth hermit has been joined by a tenth. They live on a small ranch in Central Texas with The Dogs of Hermits’ Rest. He does not hang out in bars anywhere near as much as when he was trying to be Li Po.
Other than family and music and song writing, his interests include writing. He has authored many technical tomes, several short stories, and a novel. He does have a day job or two, and he re-publishes some of his writings for those here.
For more information, see the complete profile.
I wanted to catch up on the state of the garden this first day of March. Here is a teaser. I put more pictures up in a Facebook album.
The blue pansies to the right are in the front bed. I took the picture by holding the camera at ground level and snapping. Thank goodness for autofocus.
The flowers to the left are some of the wildflowers I planted last Fall. This patch did better than the others, some of which never came up at all. Hopefully, this one will fill ne more next year.
After being overcast since Saturday, we finally got enough rain to settle the dust in the back yard—not enough to measure, but enough to settle the dust. Yesterday, it started to spit every time I went outside, and today seems to be following the pattern.
Since I have new cheap plants in the ground, I still had to water yesterday afternoon. We’ll see if I have to water today. I took a “state of the garden” set of photos after watering yesterday, and I have posted them all to Flickr, in case you’re interested.
The clouds have at least kept the highs in the mid-80s. It’s funny how cooler temperatures outside make the house seem warmer because the air conditioner runs less.
In other news, I took Beccano to the Sophomore Roundup this morning. (TubaBoy took himself to the Senior Roundup yesterday.) The Roundup is where they hand out locker assignments, if you’re willing to pay for one and core curriculum text books. It seems a bit cheesy to make kids pay for lockers, but neither Beccano nor TubaBoy want one, so maybe it makes sense. Since the school does give out textbooks to keep at home and others live in the classroom, I don’t see why anyone would want a locker these days.
20 August Update: Well, we eventually got .2”, which was enough with the overcast skies to keep from having to water for two whole days—even though other parts of town got two full inches, enough to overflow their rain barrels. At least the aquifer was recharged a bit.
It turns out that our lazy New Guinea Impatients is neither. It is, however, pretty. I just wish I knew what it is.
BTW, Friday’s Feast is off-line this week.
27 May Update: Suna and I were walking through the garden center and found a different variety of this lovely plant. When she showed me the tag, I recognized the word Jacobi. Yes, these are a variety of Jacobi. They are no longer unidentified.
Inch by inch, row by rowGonna make this garden growGonna mulch it deep and lowGonna make it fertile ground
I spent much Saturday whipping the front yard into shape. This involved shaving the weeds as close to the ground as I could and edging the driveway and sidewalks. Edging always makes a huge mess because I have an ancient Craftsman edger ($30 courtesy of Craig’s list). So, I broke out the power washer and blew the mud of the pavement.
While I had the power washer out, I went to the back yard and washed the accumulated crud off of the small deck outside the back door. This deck was originally the floor to a treehouse the neighborhood association made us take down last fall, much to Beccano’s dismay. His grandfather built the treehouse when the kids were little, and it had remained hidden for years. Last year, the NA looked harder. It looks much better with the growth blasted off.
Then Suna and I went plant shopping. This year, Suna decided she wanted a red flower garden. Last year, I bought whatever was on sale. This year, we timed it right and were able to stay within the red pallet and within my plant budget. We bought a range of plants, including:
We also had a few survivors from last year.
That means all of my free time Saturday and Sunday was spent repotting and positioning. I had to bring them all in as soon as I got home from work on Monday. The sweet pea was fairly wilted by a late afternoon cold front that dropped temps to almost freezing, but it seemed to be doing better by bed time.
Don’t need no audience ’round me I’m fond of my own companyWho wants the birds and the bees when I’ve always got me up my sleeve?Who said that no man’s an island surrounded by nothing but sea?I tell you he’s wrong and misguided; I stand here surrounded by me—Lol Mason and Max Thomas
Suna’s blog on Monday linked to a quiz to determine which type of flower fits an individual’s personality. I am apparently a daffodil, which is apparently a narcissus, according to Wikipedia. The American Daffodil Society agrees.
Here is what the quiz author has to say:
You have a sunny disposition and are normally one of the first to show up for the party. You don’t need too much attention from the host once you get there as you are more than capable of making yourself seen and heard.
Boy, did she get that one wrong! I prefer to show up after a party has started and slip in unnoticed. Unless I know the people there, I tend to be a wallflower. If I do know somebody, I tend to stick to them and avoid strangers (unless I am introduced—read, “foisted off”—on them). Otherwise, I will sit quietly until I can find an excuse to leave, then bolt for the door like a mouse in a cat house…uh, a house full of cats, that is.
I think I would go with the etymological derivation of narcissus. In Greek mythology, Narcissus was a beautiful youth who became so obsessed with his own reflection that he fell into a pond and drowned. (TubaBoy, are you reading this?) His corpse became a beautiful flower.
While I do not believe that I am beautiful or even that good looking, I have been known to be arrogant and protective of my own self-interest. I was really fond of the City Boy song, “Narcissus.” And some of my more unkind critics have called me a Narcissist. I don’t buy it. Maybe I do prefer to be a daffodil.
We are flowers growin' in God’s gardenAnd that is why he spreads the shit around—David Byrne
After choir rehearsal and prior to the start of the service, I was moved to go outside and admire the flower gardens that grace the front of Live Oak Church. These beautiful beds are designed and maintained mostly (if not totally) by a very talented German woman who attends the church. I stood outside admiring them for much longer than I usually would. When I first paused to admire them, I was strick by the thought that we would all miss her when she is gone.
Now I am not given to these forboding thoughts overmuch, but I do know that she is battling a serious illness right now. So the purpose of this post is to ask my readers, if any, to send gentle and healing thoughts her way.
We will all miss her when she’s gone. I just hope that’s a long, long time from now.
Suna and I went to see my dad this weekend. We drove down to the farm when Suna got off work on Saturday, spent some time chatting, and then took Dad into Victoria for dinner—which he insisted on buying.
We ate at a Texas Roadhouse. Dad and Suna each had a small sirloin, and I had a pork chop. Their steaks were very good. Dad said it was the best steak he had eaten in years, even if it was the only steak he had eaten in years. My pork chop was seasoned as if it were a steak, and the seasoning really didn't work that well. They also brought it out with a dark brown gravy that reminded me of salty ditch water. Luckily, the gravy was on the side.
These sunflowers really are taller than Suna. They’re even taller than me!The roadhouse atmosphere was played to the hilt, and I even got Dad to throw some peanut shells on the floor. That really went against his upbringing. You could see that he was embarrassed but secretly enjoyed it.
After dinner, we drove around Victoria showing Suna the sites. “There’s a car dealership. There’s a car hospital. There’s a used car dealership. There’s another car dealership. Oh, look! There’s another car hospital.”
This morning, Dad had his stomach pain again. He won’t eat at all on days when the pain afflicts him. Luckily, he said it was a very light attack, and we were hoping it would have subsided enough for him to eat dinner.
We sat around talking until we had to leave to check on the kids. One the way out, I snapped a couple of pictures of Suna, Dad, and the farm. The sunflowers shown here are along the fence of a neighboring farm.
The AftermathBecause that’s the way my mind works, I’ll start at the end of the story. Here we are all (except for Lea, who took this picture) exhausted after a three-hour tour of Ink’s Lake State Park. Yes, another three-hour tour—actually closer to 3.5 hours, this time on foot. The younger folks were kind enough to slow down and wait for the old fart who took a lot of pictures as a good excuse to catch his breath. Suna did much better on the walking bit, in spite of getting a tad overheated.
Vista: It’s More Than a Buggy Operating System!We frequently stopped to rest...er...take in the glorious panoramas of Central Texas in a rare hydrated Spring. All-in-all, we covered just over five miles in the mid-afternoon sun. Luckily, we carried plenty of water and sodas (we carried out all of our trash, thank you), and Greg fed us delicious close-out chocolate bars.
Cactus FlowersThe best thing about the hike was the flowers. Even the cacti got into the floral act.
There are more pictures than I can include here. Suna has posted and commented on more of them in her Flickr account.
