Oasis

We have had record breaking heat in the Ozarks the last few days.  Several times the temperature has risen to 109ºF (42.8°C) in the middle of the day.  The humidity has been so low that the heat index has actually been negative, which I suppose is a blessing of sorts.

Needless to say, we have been watering the gardens assiduously in order to help them stay happy during this heat wave.   We are so blessed that our community is served by wells that run deep into an aquifer that is readily replenished during the spring rains (since we live in a karst limestone area).   There are lots of places here in the Ozarks that get their water from reservoirs, and when it is hot and dry they do not have the luxury of watering gardens as the water must be conserved for essentials like drinking and bathing.   But the water is not free, and I await my next month’s water bill with a certain amount of dread.

Still, the mature trees around here are worth quite a lot; according to some studies mature trees add approximately 2% to the value of a property.  I have also read studies that claim that each tree is worth around $1500.   Whatever they are actually worth, I am willing to spend a few dollars to keep them alive.   Of course, I love my day lilies and hostas too, so I willingly water them.   The trees get water peripherally while I water the landscape plantings.

One of the side benefits of running the sprinkler is the amusement I get from watching the birds.   When it is so hot, they flock to the spray from the sprinklers, and disport themselves gaily, obviously completely enjoying the cool shower.   The cardinals sit in the shrubs and bathe, the robins just stand in the spray and meditate.   The grackles hunt for the bugs that are disturbed by the water, occasionally shaking the cooling drops off their gleaming iridescent bodies.   Right now we have baby grackles that are following their parents around, begging for morsels.  The small birds also enjoy cooling effects of the water.

Yesterday when we were sitting in our pool cooling off, one of the male gold finches stopped by and scolded us severely.   Apparently the lack of niger seed in the finch feeder was the problem.   So, after I was done bathing, I filled the feeder.   The finches are really enjoying it today.   It hangs in the shade, and I’m sure it is much more pleasant to land on a full feeder and feast in the shade of the elm tree rather than rummage around for seeds out in the hot sun.

The pond is quite popular right now too.  The  frogs are utilizing the water along with the dragon flies; the water source in the waterfall is used by all the resident birds.   However, there are some of them who prefer the bird bath, and I like it too as it is the view from my dining room window.   My favorite time is when the young fledglings are taking bathing lessons, but I enjoy watching it all the time.

The birds are not the only denizens of the yard that use the bird bath.    Our bees need a lot of water right now, as they drink large quantities of water and then fly off to the hive and use its evaporative properties to keep the hive cool.

Usually bees are a little camera shy, but this one was so intent on the water that I was able to put the lens right up next to her and use my super macro function to capture her proboscis extended for her drink.

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Close call

There are certain joys of home ownership that are unavoidable:  clogged sewers, leaking faucets, rotting floor timbers, and the inevitable heating/cooling issues.  When you also own a rental property, your potential for joy is maximized.   It doesn’t seem to be an additive function, more like an exponential one, because you have dealing with other people as another ingredient to the mix.

Yesterday evening, at 4:45p.m., my phone rang.   It was my tenant, calling me from where he works.

“Is Jim there?” he inquired plaintively.

“No, JIm is not here.   He is at work.   He won’t be home until 8:30.   What can I do for you, Tenantman?”

“The airconditioner isn’t working,” he reported.

“Oh, goody.”

“Well, you know we have a newborn baby, and it is what, 100º out?”  I took a breath to speak, but my tenant continued.   “They tried and tried to make it work last night and they couldn’t get it to come on.”

“Of course you need the air conditioner to work.   But what do you want me to do about it right now?   I mean, even if I called Henderson (the heating and air conditioning people we have a relationship with) there is no way that they are going to be there today.  And why are you calling me now?   Why didn’t you call me earlier in the day when maybe something could have been done about it?”

“Well, I forgot.”

This is not surprising.   Our tenant has a job at the barrel manufacturing company here in our town.   On toasty summer days, working in this facility is somewhat akin to working in hell, truly.   You know that the inside of whiskey barrels is charred, right?   They do that by putting the completed barrel upside down over a propane flame thrower and turning it on for about two minutes.    The factory also makes wine barrels, which are toasted.   This process adds even more to the hellish conditions in the barrel factory, as this is accomplished by building a nice slow fire of oak chunks in a long pit which has a conveyer belt running above it.   The barrels are loaded onto the conveyer belt upside down and travel over the pit, being nicely toasted on their interior once this journey is completed.  People spend their day tending this fire pit as it is important that the oak fire be just right for proper toasting to occur.   This is how the lovely oaky note comes into your chardonnay, by the way.

But I digress.   It is not surprising to me that the heat and smoke conditions may have fried his brain just a trifle.   While he was working in a facility that has ambient temperatures approaching a volcanic level, the fact that the house his wife and children were in was an uncomfortable 85 degrees was most probably  not high on his list of concerns.

“Well, I’m sorry I can’t do anything about it right now.”

We passed a few words around, I promised to tell Jim about the situation when he got home, suggested that when it cooled off today they should turn on the whole house fan, blah blah blah.    Then my client showed up for her massage.

When I took Ruby for her walk, I left a note for Jim.   Upon my return, he was across the street at the tenant’s place, assessing the situation.

We passed  a  pleasant evening, peeling garlic from last year since the new crop of garlic is now hanging in the woodshed to dry.

Visions of spending hundreds of dollars repairing or replacing the ancient air conditioner across the street ran through my mind.   Jim consoled me.   “It doesn’t have to be expensive, you know”, he told me cheerfully.   “It could be something simple.”

Bright and early, we arose, had some coffee and then he went off to Henderson’s to make an appointment for the repairman.   When he got home, he went over to the tenants to tell them what was going to happen, and while he was there he spent a little more time investigating the situation.

He came back across the street, and went to the phone.

“Shirley?….  Yes, this is Jim D.   I was just over there making an appointment for a repairman?….   Well, you can tear that job order up.   The situation has been resolved.”   He hung up the phone.

Apparently, there is a master switch in the basement that controls the furnace and air conditioner that had been turned off last fall.   No one remembered this fact because the furnace did not get used even once during the winter, the tenants happily heated the house all winter using the fireplace insert we installed last summer.   And this is the first time they have tried to use the air conditioner this year.

Indeed, it turned out to be much less expensive to fix the air conditioner than I had imagine.   Thank goodness.

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Here are a few other close calls I had this morning.

Now, I need to go move my water, address the weeds in the butternut squash bed, and peel more garlic.

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territoriality

There is no doubt that animals are territorial in nature.   It has been quite interesting to observe this in action as I introduced a new cat to the household following my father’s death.

Impy is a six year old neutered tabby cat, very handsome and good natured.   Despite the fact that he is in what amounts to middle age, Impy is quite the playful fellow.   He believes that the activity of talking on the phone is simply an opportunity for him to have a concentrated play time, as the telephone chair is right near the cat tree which is furnished with elegantly feathered and enticing string toys.    One hand holds the phone, the other operates the toy.

This is the toy, being occupied by Mallory the other evening.

“This is my toy, you know.   I don’t particlarly wish to play with it, but it is Mine.”

Helping me talk on the phone used to be one of Mallory’s favorite activities, but she is having serious issues with the advent of the New Cat.   At the time my father died, I had a funny and playful kitten.   A month later, after I returned from Connecticut, I had a jaundiced Old Lady Cat.

In part this is because of my neglect of her claws, which grew to prodigious lengths and caused her all sorts of problems.   She could not walk without sticking to the carpet, and I think her feet hurt too.   Additionally, she had at least one accident where she was jumping down from somewhere and caught a claw which strained her ankle.   Not only was there the trauma of the New Cat, she was in physical pain plus I was absent, which always results in her pining.  She decided she really ddin’t care to eat, and dropped from 6 lb 12 oz to barely 6 lbs.   That’s a fairly substantial percentage of her weight.

Well, we have dealt with the claw problem, and her body no longer hurts.   She has also started eating again, although she is still very bony.

She  also didn’t want to play.   See the claw problem above, plus the complication that all the toys are all contaminated with Impy cooties.

This problem has not resolved itself, even though Impy really really really wants to play with her.   He sneaks up on her and taps her playfully on the butt.   She rebuts this with a ferocious attitude of defense.   He answers her glare by rolling over on his back and waving his paws in the air, then dashing off in high hopes that she will pursue him.    He stops at the end of the hall and looks back at her, baffled by her basilisk attitude.   He washes contemplatively, then philosophically goes off to gaze out the window, only to return later with further requests to “Please play.”

Jim and I were discussing the situation last night, and he observed very perspicaciously that while Mallory may be having a Problem adjusting to having another cat around, at least she is not having to deal with a bully.   Impy is probably one of the nicest, sweetest, and patient cats I have ever witnessed trying to make friends with another cat.

I have spent a certain amount of time with my own blandishments, waving the string enticingly in front of her, crumpling paper balls (used to be her favorite toy) and tossing them in front of her.   I roll the bouncy ball for her entertainment.

This has had limited success as Impy has discovered that the bouncy ball is a Great Toy and has exhibited quite the soccer ability, dribbling the ball expertly and passing it to himself, rolling about, losing it and finding it again.    Once he lost it and it went over by Mallory.

“It’s mine.   I don’t really want to play with it, but it is MINE.”    So is the mouse, and apparently Ruby’s moose is also hers.

I have a cat in the manger, apparently.

She has, however, allowed Impy to lick her face in passing, and she also has started watching the toys, even touched the contaminated string toy with one paw the other night.   I believe that in a few more days my happy little kitty will discover just how much fun having a companion is.

Impy can hardly wait.

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Edible landscape

Last night we were blessed by a badly needed gentle rain during the early morning hours.

The flowers were just beautiful, all lush and gorgeous dressed in their diamonds.  I went out to enjoy a little photography, and when I came back in the house my camera said I had captured 44 images.  I believe I also had at least that many mosquito bites….

So, this is what I gave my blood for this morning.

I swear it almost looks like the audience of day lilies is applauding the solo performance of  Cleome with her back up singers the Scarlet Crocosmia.  Maybe I’m anthropomorphizing.

These gals look good enough to eat.

Actually, day lilies ARE edible.   I hear they are quite tasty done tempura style, or lightly sauteed in butter.   I don’t know, I can’t bring myself to pick them and bring them inside, they are just so beautiful out in the garden.

Here’s another edible one, this is Thymus microphyllus,  a creeping thyme that is established out in the scree slope garden.

That whole wave of thyme that is breaking on the rocks is only a couple of inches long.   (Yes, I have been playing with the super macro function on my camera.)  Here’s a closer look at those tiny blossoms.  They are about 1 mm across.

Here’s another edible one:  Gladiolus.   I have never tried this one, either.   It is rumored to taste like lettuce.

Looks like a delicious dish of sherbet, doesn’t it?

Skullcap (Scutellaria integrifolia) lives in my prairie garden.  It is a member of the mint family, which probably accounts for how successful it is.  It is useful as a medicinal herb, used as a sedative, nerve tonic and antispasmodic.  It was used to treat rabies, epilepsy, insomnia, neuralgia, etc.   According to my Peterson Field Guide, “Scutellarin, a flavonoid compound in the plant has confirmed sedative and antispasmodic qualities.”

I’m not sure how tasty this flower is, but it would certainly add a beautiful blue note to any salad you put it in.  The bumblebee seems to be enjoying it.

Inside, you can find the golden zucchini, sliced and lightly salted, waiting for the saute pan.   Once it has sat this way for a bit, you rinse the salt off and then braise it in butter with minced garlic.   Garnish with chopped tarragon and you have a dish fit for the gods on Mt. Olympus, at least in my humble opinion.   I really could eat this every day.

For some reason this post has made me hungry.   I believe I shall go do a bit of foraging.

May all your meals be tasty and beautiful today.

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Fleabane — Erigeron annuus

Daisy fleabane —   Erigeron annuus:

This wild flower got its name because back in the old days, people would pick the flowers, dry them, and then strew them around the house to chase the fleas out of the straw that kept the stone and dirt floors from being cold in the winter.  This met with varying degrees of success.  Culpepper says, “The juice makes an excellent pectoral tonic, although unpleasant to take.  The decoction, or infusion, may be sweetened and used with success in consumptive cases.”  He also mentions that fleabane  is useful as a diuretic as well as a treatment for diarrhoea, kidney stones, and as a treatment for bleeding in the lungs or colon.

I thought about titling this post “Give it an inch and it will take over,” which would be  so descriptive of what fleabane does.  But many of the common flowers around here do exactly the same thing, so I didn’t think it would be fair to single fleabane out.  Joining fleabane in plant thuggery taking over gardens are goldenrod, mint, vinca, dock, violets, the common buttercup, sweet autumn clematis, and others too numerous to mention.  I will just say here that all of the above are found duking it out mingling  in my day lily  bed, much to the dismay of the Hemerocallis.

As I mentioned a couple of days ago, weeding the fleabane out of the day lily bed was on my list of things that had to get done.   I finally got around to starting the project after I finished clearing the vinca and goldenrod out of the small bed by the back door.    By the way, I did finish that job, and it looks very nice now.   And just in case the need arises, Jim will be able to find the sewer clean out caps, which are under the flat rock you can see in the gravel path.

So, that business concluded, I arrayed myself in long pants, long sleeved white shirt, hat, gloves, doused myself with pennyroyal (in an attempt to dissuade the mosquitoes from feasting on me), and took my cobra head weeder, a spade, the wheel barrow and a lot of grit and determination out to the day lilies.

The bed looked like this.

There are day lilies in there somewhere, blooming beautfiully.

What happened!!??? you might ask.   The short answer is, “Life happened.”  The long answer is a lot of people died, a relationship blew up, I got depressed, my energy levels dropped, the events of the last year intervened…  and the fleabane, dock, goldenrod, violets and other thug plants wild flowers of the region took full advantage of my distraction.

I worked out there for about three hours the first day I assailed the mess.   The following day I spent another two hours on the job, and  I’m still not finished.   I thought about working on it yesterday, but after two days with the vinca and the two sessions in the day lilies, my hands were actually very sore.   Since I really need them in order to do my job, I thought I’d give them the day off from weeding.

Besides.   It looks much better now.

Fleabane was just one of the problems out there.    There was yellow dock as well.   It gets as tall as I am and has the most amazing root system, which is why I really needed the shovel for the job.

I tolerate it out behind the pond and in the labyrinth because it makes an impressive amount of seeds.  The seed eating birds love them, but believe me, the dock has plenty to spare and freely reseeds itself.   It is quite the colonizer, and since it is a perennial, once it gets established it just keeps coming back unless you dig the roots out.

Another little friend that loves to colonize is goldenrod, genus Solidago.  There are approximately 125 species of goldenrod, and I have no idea which kind is infesting enjoying my yard.  It could be Showy Goldenrod, or Rough-stemmed Goldenrod, or Stiff Goldenrod.  (I’m pretty sure it is NOT Seaside Goldenrod since we are nowhere near a brackish marsh, nor is this a sandy site)  At any rate, it also gets as tall or taller than I am.

Please note the root system.  This plant is one year old, and is all cocked and primed to take over everything in the general vicinity.   The white parts of the root system are rhizomes, which can and do travel many feet out from the mother plant, entwining around the roots of other plants along the way and strangling them from below while the plant effectively blocks out the light the victimized plants need to prosper from above.

Again, this is a plant that I actively encourage in the wild parts of the yard because it provides habitat for butterflies, an important fall pollen source for the honeybees, and a source of winter food for the birds.   However, it is definitely something that I don’t really like in the more domesticated parts of the garden because of its invasive habit.  A gardener would do well to learn to identify this one and pull it out when it is very small.

This is where things like goldenrod and fleabane and dock belong:  in the Petite Prairie.

It’s really not very good garden design that the Petite Prairie is right across the path from the Daylily Garden.   It makes it all too easy for the weeds wild flowers mentioned above to colonize the tamer garden.

But gosh, I don’t have enough to do around here.   I really need an ongoing project to occupy my time.

Right?

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