Red In The Morning

Sunday, December 9, 2007

6:30 PM has already arrived and it seems like just minutes ago that I looked out the office window at 6:30 this morning and saw the sun screaming through the trees and turning the clouds red like the pine grosbeaks that visited the bird feeders a few days back. It was a powerful color, bumpy in places, and interrupted by gray-blue background skies.

Red at night, sailors delight, red in the morning, sailors take warning. As I write, it is 15 degrees, clear and calm. During the day here we had a few short lived squalls but the snow fluff that materialized accumulated very little.

Today I continued to teach myself Dreamweaver CS3. By the time spring arrives I'm hopeful that I'll have mastered enough to present a new website for gardeners to view and order from. Everyone learns differently and I'm a visual learner so the online tutorials and picture books are getting me where I need to be. I have to take breaks and refresh myself so Karl the wonder dog and I go for walks or rides when I get hung up. Tonight I will begin working on images and then when I tire, I'll look at background and text colors.

I'm open to advice on colors. I always listen to advice but don't always use it. When I did our site four years ago I used a cream papyrus font and a dark red background. I was cautioned not to. Today "fonts" are out, cascading style sheets are in and non-dithering colors are recommended. I thought I did well to build a site with just me and a book but now I am told that I have to test the site in a variety of browsers and be sure not to forget to go to Adobe's Device Central and check out the emulation on a variety of hand helds like Blackberries and mobile phones. Good advice but mind boggling to an aging gardener!

Today I helped Gail rearrange some furniture in anticipation of my grandson's arrival next week. He's a year and a half old and his middle name is "inquisitive". I'm told he's too strong at times for his own good so my office just inherited two 30" tall cast iron garden urns, one with a rosemary and the other with a lemon tree. Gail is convinced he might flatten himself pulling on one and I agreed. The Eucharis grandiflorum which is a nice plant and is just finishing this round of bloom was relocated onto a table in our bedroom. I really do believe my son and daughter in law feed this kid well but if he's hungry from the flight out or the ride down from Burlington, I don't want him chewing on a seriously deadly plant. I do hope I see a shopping list soon as Marshfield itself is quite limited.

Speaking of Gail, I hear her now. Supper is ready and Monday will be here soon. As time grows short between now and holiday time, give some thought to gifts for the gardener in your family. Don't hesitate too long because you might not be the only one with a good idea. Long ago Alex told me that smart people don't shop for Christmas the day before. I think he was five then. If you can't think of something or don't feel comfortable with a decision yourself, a gift certificate from Vermont Flower Farm is the way to go. Give Gail a call at 802-426-3505 and she'll help.

Gardening thoughts at holiday time,

George Africa
The Vermont Gardener
http://vermontgardens.blogspot.com
http://vermontflowerfarm.com

Happy Easter

Sunday, April 8, 2007

21.3 degrees on the mountain. Just back in with Karl the wonder dog. His sniffer was in overdrive this morning as a red squirrel had just dug out a cache of seeds from the wall by the driveway. Karl is difficult to coax back into the house when he has a likable scent, even on Easter morning.

The sky is open and the moon is lingering on the horizon. There is an obvious cloud above Peacham Pond, probably caused by the water that has opened up parts of the ice. The water enters from a couple larger sources like Sucker Brook and the overflow from the white spring but there are a couple other lesser sources that help to weaken the ice and change the surrounding temperature. I won't be surprised if we receive a flurry of sugar snow this morning as the air just "feels" like snow will be part of the morning.

Today is Easter and for the second year in a row we don't have an Easter lily in the house. The Amazon lily, Eucharis amazonica, pictured above, can be a substitute. Easter lilies as we know them are Lilium longiflorums although the lily mentioned in the Bible was really the Madonna lily or Lilium candidum. The flower industry needed a big showy lily with trumpet flowers and big buds and their work is obvious by the millions.

Growing lilies for Easter is a moving target and quite a challenge. When you see one in the box stores marked $6, respect what the grower has gone through. Easter falls on different dates and Easter lilies must be grown in greenhouses. In a state such as Vermont, winter climates are moving targets too. There are temperature and light changes and both of these are critical to bulb production. Growers have resorted to chemicals to regulate height and speed of growth. At the end of a winter like this one where February and March had many nights close to or below zero, the production costs rocketed just to keep the bulbs growing. A producer's goal is to have just a couple buds opening when the plants hit the market.

This year the lilies I looked at had spindly stems and were blooming long before they should have. Florists usually have the best selection which has received more attention, hence the reason why you traditionally pay a little more. It's worth a little more to have a healthy, balanced plant that will be in bloom for 2-3 weeks. At least I think so.

Just in the time I am sitting here, the sugar snow has started. There are 11 blue jays and a pair of doves competing for their Easter breakfast. A lone grackle without an invitation keeps appearing from nowhere.

Whatever your celebration, whatever you have planned for today, enjoy yourself.


Writing from the mountain above Peacham Pond where the fire in the wood stove feels good to Karl and to us too!

George Africa
http://vermontflowerfarm.com
http://vermontgardens.blogspot.com