« September 2012 | Main | November 2012 »
Who knew?! My son had told me about the zombie/human wars at college. I'd heard about the Zombie Pub Crawl. But who knew they were a threat to our gardens? It's been awhile since I've mentioned our good gardening friend, P. Allen Smith. What a great guy to extend his gardening expertise to include help dealing with.....cue the scary music....ZOMBIES!
Stay safe this Halloween!
| | | |
| | |
If you're a regular or semi-frequent reader of The Garden Buzz, you've probably read this post before. It's usually mid-October when all the pink starts to grate on me and I decide to re-run this plea for direct donations to the cause of fighting the "anything but pink" scourge that breast cancer continues to be...
...Except for the burnished maples, the early October snows have muddied our usual brilliant fall colors, leaving us with only pink. The stores are filled with all manner of pink items advertising National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. And in my garden, this last single rosy bloom of "All the Rage".
I realized that I am not alone in my worry that the message is getting lost in the marketing. Others are growing concerned that the portion of "pink" sales turned over to charity is misleading. I fear that in going all girlfriendy, all pink and sparkly, the reality of breast cancer is somehow diluted.
Lest we forget, breast cancer is a dark, heinous disease that steals our family and friends, robbing us of the nurturing relationships that matter most in life. It is the disease that took my mother at 70 before my children were born. It is the disease that took my sister at 57 before we could make peace. It is the disease that almost caught me at 37 when my children were so, so young. It is the disease that hovers like a perpetual dark cloud in the peripheral vision of my 21 year-old daughter.
If you want to wear silly pink wigs and run a race, that's ok. If you really covet a pink Kitchen-Aid mixer by all means, go ahead. If a coffee mug stamped with a pink ribbon warms your heart, that's fine.
But better yet, make a more powerful statement, a more potent response by donating DIRECTLY to the American Cancer Society. Communicate to the TV networks that you'd like "one less", one less Viagra ad every night and one more breast cancer public service announcement instead. Communicate to your congressperson that when health care is reformed it should include equal access to breast cancer treatment for all women, and our sons and fathers and brothers.
Because for me, breast cancer isn't pink, it's personal.
| | | |
| | |
I've been wandering the streets again. All the while trying to maintain that "what you lookin' at?" glare/vacant stare encouraged for all social discourse and navigation on the mean streets of NYC.
I'm on the prowl for gardens.
While my daughter heads to Martha's in Manhattan everyday (she's doing the Everday Food Blog among other things), I am hanging out at her place for the next few days; a petite but charming fraction of a brownstone on the "Slope" near Prospect Park, in Brooklyn where all the cool kids live.
I've found that gardening is alive and well in NYC. Considering the logistics and space limitations, I'm in awe of the horticultural efforts I see.
In this part of Brooklyn along the rows of sturdy brownstones are stately courtyards with impressive urns filled with conifers, elephant ears or coleus. There are windowboxes trailing lovely flowers. Mums and pumpkins anticipate and celebrate autumn on the iconic stoops. All working within the rowhouse framework, all perfectly groomed and lovely.
And then I find it. A garden that makes me drop the scowl and just smile. And yet, it may not be to everyone's taste.
Notable and noble for the sheer quantity of vegetation as well as the design and arrangement, this garden knits gnarled vines with stairstepped pots and "found" wood to create a seamless vista across the lower facade. The container plants flow down the steps into one another. The effect is like a densely planted hillside or perhaps a fisherman's cottage in Maine.
To the side of the steps an ordinary flower bed is transformed with an unusual structure. I love this teetering thing that resembles an osprey nest or an eagle aerie. The higgledy-piggledy platform holds up a few potted plants and sticks that seem to float over the plants below.
But the best part is that small laminated sign peeking out from the honeysuckle...
"If you are troubled by this garden, please leave a note."
"If you must wield scissors"
"Consider your cuticles or other body parts"
| | | |
| | |
