Liz and the Professor

Scrap Hammered

2009-11-09T13:07:00.000-08:00

Cereus Peruvianus

Yikes, I stepped out of the Blogosphere for a few days and come back only to find I’ve been thoroughly beaten with the Honest Scrap hammer by no less than three Blotanical members. Now if I have this correct there are so rules I’m supposed to abide by. Hmmm…Lets see.

1. Brag about the award.

2. Include the name of the blogger who bestowed the award on me and link back to the blogger.

3. Choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that I find brilliant in content or design.

4. Show their names and links and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog.

5. List at least ten (10) honest things about myself.

Okayyyy…First off…shucks, I sure appreciate the opportunity to come up with a post that doesn’t require as much thought as most posts do. In reality, I am honored that Wendy of Greenish Thumb, Jean P of Jean’s Garden and Sarah of Madblooms think enough of this blog to want to learn a little bit more about the author. One thing these three women have in common is a passion for horticulture, something that is very apparent in their gardening blogs. Not the horticulture that insists upon the correct latin but the hort that is the beauty and wonder of nature. Thanks ladies, very cool.

On to ten fact about me. Lets see if I can come up with stuff I haven’t already written about.

1. I grew up in next to my Grandmothers farm in Bristol WI. It is there that I first was introduced to growing plants for both food and pleasure. My parents had a large garden and canned much of the harvest. Both my parents and Grandmother had massive beds of mostly perennials. I don’t think they ever went to a nursery as plants were passed around the community from family to family.

2. The first plants I remember having were some Maple seeds I stuck in a pot at about age 6 and wonder it all they sprouted.

3. I arrived in the Fl. Keys in 1977 driving an old hippie van/telephone truck and lived in a camp ground for the first year, didn’t have to work thanks to being laid off, pulled unemployment comp., went spearfishing everyday and lived on lobster and brown rice prepared by lovely hippie chicks. Ahh, that was the life.

4. Reality hit and I went back to work, at a nursery and thus began a 20 some odd year career in the hort. trade.

5. Got tired of digging holes, employees, and using my tools. I was a softball coach for my daughters teams, became Pres. of Little League which led to my next career as the Exec. Dir. of a youth oriented nonprofit, a position I hold still today. Working with kids does keep you thinking young.

6. I took a 7 year hiatus from all things horticultural until falling for Liz. She was the owner of a wholesale nursery for a decade that she built from the ground up. My hort interest was renewed and most of our vacations revolve around visiting gardens where we play the latin name game.

7. I’m not a professor of anything. That is a nickname given me by a group of friends. This blog started a way to keep in contact with them, the blog languished, was revived as this garden blog and suddenly it was too late to change the name to something gardenish.

8. Liz doesn’t believe in blogging…at all. So it’s just little old me. She’s never read a single word and demanded that I take her picture off it. So be it, anything for harmony at home.

9. I do all the laundry…ALL OF IT.

10. I have been informed that what I deem blonde in my hair is indeed gray…but they are wrong.

As for passing this on, well I’m not much on this kind of thing. This meme has swept through Blotanical at a fever pace. It’s kinda fun but so many bloggers have been awarded this that I will just allow this branch of the Honest Scrap tree to end here and we can get back to garden blogging.

Only a Picture

2009-11-02T14:33:00.000-08:00

Phalanopsis spp

This past weekend the debauchery and mayhem of Key West reached its usual annual peak…Fantasy Fest. For those of you who don’t know of this insanity, let’s just say it tends to be a half naked Mardi Gras in the southern most city. Go to Youtube if you really want to know more. Key Weird is inundated by about 60,000 extra folks all bent on letting their freak flag fly for one weekend a year. That said, you can understand why many of the locals are a little edgy.

Balfour Aralia (Polyscias scutellaria) & Croton

So that preamble brings us to my little story. Camera in hand, I was walking down a tiny little lane between a couple larger streets. There are a bunch of these glorified alleyways and I’ve never had a problem on them, until now.

Chenille Acalypha (Acalypha hispida)

I came upon small Conch house, in a state of disrepair surrounded with lush tropical vegetation. A sort of hedge, untrimmed and rangy AcaIypha of varying cultivars combined with Crotons and Aralias made up barrier between the postage stamp yard and the lane. I was busy trying to focus the macro mode on a Black Aralia and as usual having little success, being as I forgot my cheater reading glasses in the truck.

Acalypha spp.

In the back of my mind I heard the old man but it just didn’t register that he was talking to me.

“Hey you…Hey!...Hey YOU!! What are you doin.”

Brassia spp.?

Finally I caught on and looked over to see and elderly man holding garden hose trained on a group of orchids I had photographed a few minutes earlier.

Emerald Acalypha (Acalypha wilkesania"Hoffmanii")

Opening my mouth to ask permission to photograph his plants I was interrupted by a pack of college age scooter riders, zipping down the lane, madly beeping their horns in accompaniment to much hooting and hollering. Why must they always do that?

Black Aralia (Polyscias guilfoylei"Blackie")

It was then that the sky opened up in a hurricane-like deluge of water. Wait sec, rain doesn’t come down in a stream. With catlike reflexes I looked back to the house. The old man had a gleeful snarl on his lips as he pointed the pistol grip of his hose, unleashing a torrent of killer water. My mind in overdrive, I instantly assessed the situation, and reacted…by saying “Huh?”

Copperleaf Acalypha (Acalypha wilkesania"Copperleaf")

My middleschool Ninja training took over when I made a few goofy skips backwards out of hose range directly into the path of the last straggler scooter terrorist. It was only his drunken wobbling of the scooter that saved us both, much to the cackling delight of the octogenarian aggressor.

Acalypha wilkesania"Marginata")

Dripping and defeated I made my way back to my truck.

Sheesh, I only wanted a picture.

Halloween Snippet

2009-10-30T13:43:00.000-07:00

“Snip, snip, snip”. Her Felco clippers imitated a metronome as she pruned the spent Heliconia leaves. This plant was at the edge of deep shade and in a seldom visited part of her garden. The little woman had been at it for what seemed hours.

Pausing beneath a towering Talipot palm she noticed the sky was turning a morbid shade of gray, adding an odd heaviness to her usually pleasant mood.

She was just so tired. Gardening never used to take it out of her like this. “ I guess it’s just old age” the woman thought. “My, wouldn’t it be nice to just take a little nap.” Looking left she noticed a dark void in the tangled roots that supported an ancient Ficus tree.

Pushing aside spider webs the gray haired gardener crept into the opening, sat down, and slowly slumped over, her head cradled against rough bark. As she closed her eyes the last things she noticed was a large bird in a near pine and a heavy odor, a thick miasma of decay entering her nostrils while she began to doze.

The odd dream slowly formed, in her mind’s eye she saw a curious looking bug and her own wizened hands pruning, clipping with the rusty shears …snip, snip, snip.

Snip , snip, snip…the drumbeat of the pruners grew louder and closer, slightly painful…snip, snip, snip.

SNIP, SNIP, SNIP…louder now…so loud and so close.… the pain increasing tenfold…it seemed to be .......................................................................

inside her head………………………………………………………............

..................................................................................for indeed........……………………………....

..................................................................................................................................................it was!

Wordless Wednesday

2009-10-28T11:59:00.000-07:00

Dendrobium spp

Hylocereus undatus

Achmea fasciata

Codiaeum spp

Treminalia catappa-Tropical Almond

Phalaenopsis spp

A Little Love

2009-10-27T06:07:00.000-07:00

Monstera Deliciosa

Yikes, close one!! I tend to write these posts on a nifty little HP netbook when I’m out and about. I really like the small size and portability of the little machine, but it has its drawbacks, such as lack of file storage. To keep this little comp running at its best I store my pix on one of our home desk tops and keep the photos on a handy dandy flash drive to use when posting. Well wouldn’t ya know it the desk top crashed over the weekend taking all stored files with it.

Colocasia esculenta"Illustris"

Fortunately most of my images still live on that little plastic stick and none of the lost files were of any real consequence. Unfortunately my photo editing software is toast so for the moment my new pix have all their inherent flaws for you to see.

Cyrtosperma johnstonii

Let that be a lesson to you folks…back ‘em up…it can happen to you.

Alocasia spp

Thanks to the Blot. I happened upon a garden blogger that is into Aroids…a fave plant group of mine. Swing by and say Howdy to Zack and Christine at The Variegated Thumb. These guys are doin’ it the hard way, getting the tropical plant bug while livin’ in temperate climate. They have put together a killer little greenhouse to support their addiction. Well done, guys.

Monstera obliqua

So let me throw a little Aroid love out to them with some of today’s images.

Bloody Bougainvillea

2009-10-23T13:16:00.000-07:00

Have you ever found a plant that you just love but still ya hate ‘em. Well, Bougainvillea is just that sort of plant for me. I absolutely love to gaze upon the incredibly intense colors of the blooms and I truly hate pruning them.

This comes after a couple of decades working with these guys in the landscape industry. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been stabbed by thorns, raked by thorns, stepped on thorns or fixed flat wheel barrow tires from thorns. As far as I’m concerned the only good Boug is one that is in someone else’s landscape.

That said there is one exception and that is the Dwarf Boug. That cultivar is one that just may find its way into my gardens. Dwarfs are a very low maintenance plant that requires almost no pruning if properly sited.

Yet for all the brutal issues I have with Bougs there is nothing more spectacular than this plant in full flower or should I say “full bract” for the flowers of Bougs are an insignificant white little guy and the modified leaves are the showy heart stoppers we all love.

Bougs can grow to 30’ with support which means most are improperly located in home landscapes. From a pruning perspective this can be a nightmare if the plant is near a walkway. One way to deal with the sprawling growth habit is to allow the plant to climb a tree particularly if the flowers of the tree are insignificant.

Bougainvillea bloom best during the dry season(fall and winter here) and an established plant needs little fertilization. There are an abundant number of hybrids, colors, and variegations but they tend to lose their horticultural identities down here and are commonly referred to by color.

The plant is easily propagated by cuttings and I have seen 4” thick by 4’ long branches rooted making for an instant standard container plant.

Bougainvilleas are native to South America and are named for Louis Antoine de Bougainville, a French explorer who sailed around the world in 1767. B. spectibilis and B.glabra are the species most frequently found.

So to all those gardeners out there who grow this plant I say THANK YOU and I shall be more than happy to gaze upon your boug with awe, heap horticultural praise upon you, listen with sympathetic ear, and pass you a Band-aid.

Blossom freed from...

2009-10-21T13:58:00.000-07:00

Lantana camara-Gold

“Hey man…hang on a second and let me get a picture of that”

Plumbago auriculata

The grimy yard guy with the elcheapo knock off Felco clippers looked at me and with all the intelligence he could muster said, “Huh?”

Dracena reflexa- Song of India

He was just reaching down to clip a Gold Lantana bloom that had strayed through the white picket fence. I didn’t waste any time answering and quickly clicked the shutter. As I wandered away down Caroline St. in Key West the yard ape uttered the ultimate epithet to a local such as myself…”Tourist!”

Ixora hybrid-Nora Grant

See what inglorious indignities I suffer for you folks.

Bougainvilla spectabilis

It was in my mind to write some cute post about plants that creep through the garden fence to share their beauty with, “We, the Outsiders whom are not privy to the Inner Garden”. The only thing is I don’t do cute to well.

Philodenron hybrid 'Burle Marx'

Let’s try this tactic… “Plants that know no bounds, the Untamed”. Hmmm…nah, sounds like something from the Discovery channel.

Mandavilla splendens

Ok, maybe “Blossom freed from Bondage”…errr, nope, too much like some smarmy adult DVD.

Codiaeum spp

Aw heck, “Flowers through the Fence”, yeah, that’ll work…not to creative but, whatever.

Pentas lanceolata

Key West must have more white picket fences per capita than any other town I know and plants doing their thing tend to grow though them and I always looking for something to feed the voracious appetite of the blogosphere decided to do a photo series. So here ya go …but I still kinda like the ring of “Blossom freed from Bondage”, smarmy or not.

Misc. Monday(Blog Stuff)

2009-10-19T12:29:00.000-07:00

Hong Kong Orchid tree

Bauhinia blakeana

Ok, so no more whining from me about the heat for a while. The long anticipated cold front blew into the islands Saturday night, bringing the temps down to a frigid 65 degrees. How sweet it was and thus you haven’t seen my smiling face writing any blog posts, oh no, this old boy was out in the gardens, diggin’ and plantin’ an prunin’…wearing blue jeans and jean jacket no less. Sweet!!

Dioon edule female cone

In the evening I was foolin’ around with my pix trying to make some sort of order out of them. All of you blog photographers out there know my pain. Of course I haven’t been smart enough to mark any images I’ve already posted…sigh, that alone could take hours to catch up on.

Baby Hawaiian Wood Rose

Argyreia nervosa

I’ve noticed that in the comment section of Liz and the Prof. you fine gardening folks ask me to identify various plants that I have posted images of, I will try to rectify that oversight in the future by captioning each pic (or at least most of ‘em).

forground Song of India-Dracena reflexa

background Lady palm-Raphis excelsa

Let me take a second here to thank everyone who takes the time to pick a post, fave my blog, become a follower or leave a comment. That few moments of time it takes to provide some feedback is what makes this blogging stuff worth the effort and I will try to comment on others blogs more often.

Nerium oleander-double pink

So after a weekend of heavy duty gardening, evidenced by a sore back and a bunch of new fire ant bites let me get to the posting of some images.

BPBS...Rocks!

2009-10-16T14:17:00.000-07:00

Don’t ya just hate it when your writing muse decides to take a break and your self-imposed deadline is looming…sigh.

Last night was the first Big Pine Botanical Society meeting of the year. If you have read this blog before you may remember that I am a past president of this very cool group of people. By cool, I mean they all have dirt under their fingernails. Shorts and flip flops tend to be the standard attire, not so much with golf shirts or skirts.

A grand time was had by all and of particular interest to me was the number of Gen Y attendees(what with that topic being a current blog whirlwind). I did my heart good to see these younger folks hanging out after the meeting, munchin’ on the snacks, and talkin’ plants.

No pretenses are put on by this group, just honest down to earth discussion. Not a single clique developed in the corner of the room, in fact the unofficial motto of this club is “We’re not your Mama’s garden club”.

So in honor of this friendly group and the fact that I can’t think of anything witty to write, let me just lay these warm tropical landscape images on ya. Big Pine Botanical Society…you guys rock!

GBBD October 15

2009-10-15T13:07:00.000-07:00

A great big smokin’ hot THANKS to May Dreams Garden for starting Garden Bloggers Bloom Day. A way cool Idea for showing off what’s bloomin in our gardens on the 15th. of the month.

At Liz and my little piece of the “rock” one of my favorite, due to necessity, ground covers are goin’ gangbusters. The lowly Madagasgar Periwinkle also known as Vinca minor. Good stuff because the Key Deer and iguanas leave it alone but not so good because it is considered to be an Invasive Exotic down here. They do self-seed like crazy. I have only seen them wild on disturbed sites, never on pristine habitat.

I grabbed a couple of pix of our Jatropha integerrima before the loppers got to it. I really should have cut it back a month ago but…so it goes. This is the land of Manana.

Ruellia brittoniana has come up as a volunteer, it figures, with purple being Liz’s favorite color this one would be pink, on the other hand the purple Ruellia has gotten really, really common here so I’m cool with the pink.

Our Dwarf pink Ixora or Petite Pink hybrid is going through a flush of blooms, tough little guy that lives in a pot, gets forgotten about but hangs in there.

The Plumeria rubra (who knows what cultivar) is starting to shed leaves and the blooms are becoming fewer and fewer.

Our Orange Gieger(Cordia sebestana) is still throwing flowers but at a slower pace than earlier this summer. But now for the good news, those 2 words I so dearly love…COLD FRONT. One is supposed to swing in on Saturday morning dropping the high temps into the mid eighties and the lows into the low seventies for two glorious days of low humidity…SWEET!!!

The Garden Trap

2009-10-13T13:24:00.000-07:00

Spanish moss(Tillandsia usnoides)

Ahhh…a nice long weekend. Time to go boating, maybe take a couple of naps. Life is a breeze in the Florida Keys.

Liz asked me to make sure the boat is ready to go. Ok. As usual the stupid boat won’t start.

Golden Shower(Cassia fistula)

“Hey, baby, let me just put the charger on the battery for an hour or so and we’ll be ready to go.”,I tell her.

Meanwhile I’ll clean up the yard a little I innocently think…Right…I’m a gardener remember. And so it begins.

It seems on every property there is that one area that gets very little attention from the gardener…on my property there are a few of those areas. The trap was set. This section is about 25’ feet wide by 60 ‘ long and is the deepest shade on the property…the reason being... I tend to ignore it, thus it is severly overgrown.

It all started innocently enough, I walked over it to pick up an errant soccer ball. Simple enough you say grab it and walk away. The unfortunate thing was that I had a pair of Felco clippers on my hip from cleaning up a deer munched banana plant. There were a few palm fronds in my way to get at the ball, no problem just prune the offenders…wait, I can’t leave the palm lopsided, can I. I’m taking the bait. Next thing I know I’m in the midst of a pruning frenzy and the trap has been sprung.

Monstera spp.

Grab the trash cans, pull out the loppers, bring in the chipper/ shredder, time for the chainsaw. Two soaked tee shirts and several hours later I have a nice canopy to work under.

Liz again asks, “Is the boat ready?”

”Ummm, let me check…yup, fires right up. You get the boat bag, cooler and dog. I’ve just got a few more branches to cut.”

Red Ginger(Alpinia purpurata)

Twenty minutes later I watched the boat with Liz and dachshund aboard pulling away from our dock.

“Hmmm, guess she got tired of waiting, don’t blame her. Where was I, oh yeah, that sea grape tree. I can plant a ton of aroids under this shade... and ferns…yup, ferns over there and maybe an Alpinia in that sort sunny spot."... Somehow I never even noticed the trap.

Silent Sunday

2009-10-11T14:22:00.000-07:00

Pineapples, Tourists and Hippie Chicks

2009-10-08T14:43:00.000-07:00

I was jogging down Whitehead St. in Key Weird when I heard, “Look honey, it’s another one of those cute, little, carved pineapples.” The sun-pinked, cruise ship, tourist lady looked at her beer-bellied husband who ignored her. He sat on a step in front of the Hemingway House eyeballing a local sun-bronzed hippie girl in a tie-dyed string bikini. The resulting “smack” echoed down the street behind me as I passed.

I stopped jogging when I reached my parked truck. I wasn’t doing any kind of fitness running, just trying to beat the notoriously fast, Key West parking meter timers. While I leaned against the fender sweating and puffing like a rookie angler on the losing end of a swordfish tug-of-war I looked over at a bubbling little fountain with a pineapple on top.

“Hmmm…looks like a blog subject.”

Here’s a little history regarding the significance of the welcome pineapple. Seems it all started with the Carib people way back when. Our boy Christopher Columbus picked up some pineapples and brought them back to Spain in 1493 and the King thought these things were just the best.

When other Spanish explorers sailed back to the Caribbean Islands they figured out that the Carib Indians looked on this fruit as a sign of welcome. If the Spanish set one out at the entrance to a village they would be welcomed in. All the better to swipe any gold the native people had laying around. Nice… real nice.

Anyway, this symbol spread back to Europe, then to the colonies, etc. Key West is and was very much a seafaring town. In days of yore when a Cap’n returned from sea he would impale a pineapple on the porch rail to signify he was back and ready to see visitors. Kind of a waste of good fruit if ya ask me.

Pineapple carvings, statuary, abound on our islands. This very traditional kind of garden art is still alive and well in a very, very untraditional town .

So, I plugged another few quarters into parking meter, spending my hard earned change just for you folks and wandered around Old Town snapping pineapple pix and dodging cranky tourists…by the way, I swear, honest... I never took any photos of good looking hippie chicks.

Nancy's Secret

2009-10-06T14:05:00.000-07:00

Licuala grandis

“Shade…I need shade”. The sweat dripped off the end of my nose as I finished the pix of the Ylang-Ylang tree. Another 50’ down Free School Lane in Key West is shady oasis that goes by the accurate handle of Nancy Forrester's Secret Garden. Just trying to find this place is an adventure all its own. I met 2 of Liz and my favorite house guests, Joey and David for a little plant pix adventure there.

Cecropia spp.

I have been there 3 times now and this time the garden was looking a bit overgrown as many gardens at the end of the hot, sweltering, tropical, rainy season do. No manicured paths or nifty annuals in soldier-like borders, nope, just massive trees and palms, intertwined jungle aroids climbing trunks to compete with epiphytes for the sun. Whip out the machete, we’re talkin’ rainforest here!

Tree Fern

The Secret Garden is not Fairchild Tropical garden with its impressive acreage nor Marie Selby Garden with its awesome climate controlled plant house. This spot has suffered the ravages of hurricanes, down turn in the economy and the cramped quarters of Old Town Key West but it and Nancy still hang in there.

Prichardia spp.

Nancy has operated this 1 acre urban, (if ya can call Key West urban) rainforest on a shoestring budget with a minimum of help for 30 years. There is a “$10 per human” donation box at the entrance, well worth the money if you are a plant affectionado(read geek).

Alocasia macrorrhiza cultivar"Nancy's Revenge"

So being the plant geek that I am, I was lovin’ it…especially the shade, deep, deep wonderful shade. I am also an Aroid and Palm geek…Oh, I dig Heliconias and Bromeliads, too…and all Epiphytes and…well you get it.

Cyrtostachys renda

I’m not gonna get into naming the many rare plants here or go crazy with adjectives describing the glories of the foliage. Suffice it to say you will find species here that you may not find elsewhere outside of the aforementioned gardens. I’ll let some of the images speak for themselves.

With my trusty Canon SX 1000 in my sweaty hand I was immediately lost on the labyrinth of pathways that wind under and through the foliage. Coming around a little blind corner I walked smack into a small gray haired woman carrying and huge Blue Macaw on her arm. Backing away from the bird (I’m not really a fan of any bird that can crack walnuts like I crack pea pods) I almost knocked over a cage housing an Amazon Gray. “Dang, these things are everywhere”, and they are. Nancy has rescued a whole mess of Conures, Parrots, Macaws and the like. Good for her, now I know where annual crop of disenchanted Key West wanna-be pirates leave Polly when they head back to suburban Chicago or wherever.

Philodenron spp.

Joey and David(they do like Parrotish birds)talked bird talk with Nancy for a bit as I played David Fairchild, intrepid 19th century plant explorer and promptly got lost again until I spotted the flash(told ya it is deep shade) of Joey’s Canon Rebel XTI with the Tamron 28-300MM lens( naw, I’m not at all jealous!)

We killed a very pleasant couple of hours until the mundane tasks of real life called and I headed back to Big Pine Key leaving J&D to do the Key West Duval Street crawl among the sun baked cruise ship passengers and pirate wanna-be’s. Better them than me.

So if ya ever visit Key Weird take the time to learn a secret…Nancy’s Secret…it’s worth it.

Coco was Right!

2009-10-05T13:48:00.000-07:00

“Sheesh, is it ever gonna cool off” was the thought in my mind as I was strolling down Simonton street in Key West, ”91 degrees and 75 percent humidity, is the fall ever gonna get here? It’s October, it’s only noon, I’m on my 2nd. tee shirt and I still smell like a locker room.”

A gentle breeze picked up as I crossed the tiny alleyway known as Free School Lane when suddenly I was inundated with fragrance, far more magical than my gym bag scented shirt.

Flashing back to my last horrid encounter at a Macy’s cosmetics no mans zone, I looked around for an overly made up young woman, tottering on stiletto heels, wielding an atomizer loaded with Channel No. 5. No such department store terrorist was in sight.

I decided to follow my nose down Free School and before me was a lovely tree with long, smooth, glossy leaves.

Yep, it is a Ylang-Ylang (Cananga odorata), a tree that can reach 30’-40’ although this one is about 20’. The yellowish-greenish, 5 pointed flowers cover this nifty tree in groups that cascade down branches. They don’t really hang down but are close to the branch. This fine flowering tree is native to the Pacific Island and does well in the Florida Keys.

Coco Chanel made this tree famous in 1923 by introducing Chanel #5 in Paris saying, "I wanted a perfume that is composed - not hints of roses or lilies of the valley. A woman's perfume - redolent, evocative of a woman. A perfume unlike any other ever made. The ideal scent for a woman."

The Ylang-Ylang is the principle component in this classic perfume.

I guess I’m not as romantic or well spoken as ol’Coco because all I could think of was “This sure smells better than my tee shirt!”

For the Love of Dirt

2009-10-01T16:57:00.000-07:00

Dirt, humus, compost, it’s all about the same here in the Keys and it’s the gardener’s best friend. With this in mind, I’ve been surreptitiously watching a mulch pile slowly decay for the last few months at a local park, jealously wondering when the maintenance staff was going spread it around. This stuff would make GREAT dirt. I noticed a staff member lounging on his slick little golf cart and decided to broach the matter. Grabbing a cold Coke out of my cooler I coolly strolled up to the cart.

“Hey man, you guys want that mulch…or can I take it off your hands?” I innocently asked holding the soda out to the relaxed man with ’Frank’ stenciled above the pocket of his clean khaki shirt.

‘Frank’ took the icy drink, looked sideways at the pile, gave me a crooked grin and said, ”My name’s Steve. Go for it"

I didn’t ask.

Albiza lebbeck

“Sweet, this ‘ll only take a couple minutes”, I gleefully thought while backing up my nifty Mazda pickup truck to the pile. Next, I pulled out my trusty pitchfork, that tends to live in my truck bed, thrust firmly into the pile, pulled upwards and nothing happened…

As it turned out, this pile was strategically placed under an spreading Woman’s Tongue Tree, Albizia lebbeck (so named for the loud rattle made by the dried seed pods in a brisk breeze, sorry ladies) , an extremely fast growing tree, thus the mulch pile was packed solid with long white tendrils of roots. An hour later, after struggling to bust up these recalcitrant roots, cracking my ancient pitchfork handle and repeatedly giving the hairy eyeball to the snickering park maintenance dude, the pile was finally overflowing my pickup truck bed.

I cruised back down the Overseas Highway, homeward bound on sagging truck springs, leaving a wispy, confetti-like trail of rotting mulch fragments blowing gaily about behind me and...directly into a convertible Mustang filled with fist shaking tourists. Sorry about that, folks, oh well, life is a breeze in the Florida Keys.

After whipping into my driveway I backed the truck up to my wonder machine. Did I ever tell ya about my chipper/ shredder. I love that machine. It is a Mackissic 12p with a 10 horsepower electric start engine, powering 24 swinging hammers of fury and packing a 3 in chipping capacity that inhales branches…if you properly maintain it, which I do…sporadically...but unfortunately not lately. Following multiple, lengthy starting attempts the engine caught and the spinning hammers of death began to whirl. Ok…safety sun glasses, check…ear protectors, check…it’s time to make dirt. I love this part.

Preparing to unload, I grasped the handle of my truck tailgate, pulled mightily and suddenly I was looking at the broken off handle in my hand…now tell me, who makes tailgate handles out of plastic, Mazda, that’s who, sheesh.

AfterI wrapped my pitchfork handle in some ever so stylish duct tape, hoping it would hold together the now splintering linear crack, I climbed up into the mulch-filled truck bed and began heaving forkfuls of decaying chips and roots into the yawning shredder maw. Instant compost poured from bottom of the infernal machine making my heart leap with joy.

My already leaping heart slammed to a halt when I felt something crawling up my thigh and I looked down at my leg half buried in rotting mulch.To my horror I noticed a reddish centipede of truly Herculean proportions making his way upward toward the comforting, dark, fabric shrouded recess of the leg of my shorts.

At a time like this there are only two options, be ever so cool, make like the statue of David and freeze marble still or the second option, the one I took, which is to spring into action. Screaming a banshee war wail (mine sounded more like a spoiled toddler who just dropped his ice cream cone in a mud puddle) I hurled the pitchfork from my hands, began frantically swatting at my leg and commenced to do a full minute of a furious, leg-kicking, shoe flying, chicken dance the likes of which may not again be seen by mankind.

I never saw where the killer centipede went, other than not in my pants leg, due to the fact that my ear muff hearing protectors spun sideways around on my head, managing to cover my eyes. That is of course, after dislodging my Oakley shades…which unerringly flew into the shredder hopper and were instantly vaporized by the hammers of doom.

I do know where the pitchfork ended up. You’ll be pleased to know the ever-so stylish duct tape was completely intact when I grasped the handle and pulled the pitch fork tines from the spider-webbed remains of the now ventilated back window of my formerly nifty truck…sigh.

Ahhh… for the love of dirt.

Torchwood Days

2009-09-29T13:18:00.000-07:00

In my last post I mentioned Farrel and Randia Torchwood, neighbors of mine back in the late 70’s. Folks living in the Keys often are an unusual bunch. The oddest of them are Keys Characters and this couple was just that. In reality they were solid good people just a bit quirky. Let me tell you a little tale about them from back in those days…

Vibrations shot up the hickory handle carrying through the bone and nerves, traveling a familiar route. Wrist bone to elbow, shoulder to neck. Synapses closed, their electrical impulses flashing invisibly. A hypothesis was formed and a conclusion reached.

“Geez, I hit caprock already”, I groaned. Another silent curse formed on my lips as I massaged an aching shoulder, tingling elbow, and numb wrist.

Sinister chuckles emanated from behind a shaky driftwood fence.

Havin’ fun yet? Don’t stop now, boy!”

Creaky cackling followed the intemperate outburst. This I attributed to the semi-toothed grin I know to be lurking beneath a pair of twinkling, wrinkle shrouded, gray eyeballs currently peering through twin knot holes in a slab of splintered dunnage held up by trap rope.

“Yeah, Farrel, this is just my idea of a great time in paradise” I muttered, “Paradise lost.”

I forlornly compared the height of the 14 inch rootball that supported a healthy Glenn mango and the pitifully shallow depression I’ve painfully carved in the calcareous, limestone fill I wishfully call soil.

“How many times I got to tell ya, boy, build up the bed first, afor ya spend yer doubloons on a tree?”

Pearls of Keys wisdom like this are common from my neighbor, a sun-baked former crabber turned garden troll, named Farrel Torchwood.

“Now whatcha gonna do with that puny stick in that there pot next ta ya? I got just the spot fer it. Next to the ‘Proud Mary’. Might could give ya a double sawbuck fer it, I might.”

“Farrel, you know that’s less than half of what I paid for it”, I complained.

“Well, boy, now the way I sees it, less’n you want ta keep thet little twig in a pot forever, en water it ever’day, ya might be better off puttin’ thet sprout where a man can turn a spade. Just might I could get that Sea Hag ta turn loose a couple o’ them mangos to ya, come pickin’ time.”

The slight and back bent Farrel, together with his wife, a large-boned, rough looking woman, Randia, have created a dense arboreal Eden on their land. From the depths of that seemingly impenetrable jungle, only an octave below that of nails on a chalk board, comes a banshee wail, “FARREL, YOU OLD COOT, I HEARD THAT!!.”

Randia emerged through the foliage; a beefy callused hand pointed a pitch fork menacingly at Cap’n Torchwood.

“I’ll give you ‘sea hag’, you scupper-lipped bilge rat. You leave that boy alone and git your bony butt back here. I ain’t gonna pick them alligator pears by myself, ya lazy, useless, bearded barnacle.”

The Torchwoods had sold tropical fruit from a roadside stand made from the stern half of a partially burned wooden 45-foot Chriscraft Sportsfisherman which sat on the Key Deer Boulevard frontage of their property. A rickety canopy made with thatch palm fronds, perched precariously on the dry-rotted gunnels, shaded glistening avocados, yellow key limes, star-shaped, waxy carambolas. The transom atop which the fruit rests proclaims, in peeling paint, the name “Proud Mary.”

With two decades of labor behind them, this ever- battling couple had built large deep beds of rotted compost, some two feet deep, growing a host of trees and shrubs, all with a singular purpose. Seemingly every plant was edible in one way or another. Stocky Raja Puri bananas grew with elephant ear- leafed Malanga. Lemon grasss completed with spindly sugar cane and pineapples abounded beneath a broad Cannistel.

“Aw now Randi, them avocados kin wait a bit. This boy here was jist askin’ more damn-fool questions and I was jist tryin’ to set ‘im straight“,lied the Captain. “He thinks he can plant thet mango by using his back ‘stead of his brain. Seems he doan’ listen too good. I told ‘im, a body should pile up a wad ‘o mulch abouts four foot deep, water ‘er down a bit, mix in some seaweed, maybe some horse dung and grouper heads to really heat up that pile. I told ‘im if’n he turns thet pile ever so often, why then the boy’d soon have hisself some real dirt.”

“Why you lyin’ shiftless trap robber… what you are really tryin’ to get is him to part, for next to nothin’ I’ll bet, with that mango. Now son, you listen here, you just move over about ten feet southeast from where you stand, and swing that mattock. This mangy, eight-fingered, rum-swilling, pirate cut down a fine Jamaica tall coconut nearly six years ago, before you bought this parcel of ground next to us. That stump must be rotted out by now so you’ll dig just fine in that spot,” Randia tells me, a gentle smile creasing her lips, incongruous on this mercurial, broad shouldered woman.

Swiftly turning back to Farrel, Randia bellowed “As for you Cap’n Chumbag…maybe them gator pears kin wait but what ‘o that busted limb on the Spanish lime from last night’s blow? It’s squashin’ my Jicama trellis.”

I swung the pick tentatively in the indicated spot and the flat rusty blade sank as though in butter. I could still hear Farrel’s receding voice, ”Randia, you’s as impatient as a big city snowbird, ya wench…I shoulda’ left ya at Diamond Lil’s saloon the day I met ya…”

Picking up my shovel my thought at that moment was, “Ahhh, paradise regained.”

Fantastic Foliage

2009-09-28T13:35:00.000-07:00

Alocasia Plumbea"Indica metalica"

“Splat!!” An over-ripe guava, hurled across the driftwood fence had just torn through the newly unfurled leaf of my Alocasia Plumbea and exploded in a gooey impact on the trunk of a Bismarkia palm next to my head, covering my face and chest in sticky, stinking shrapnel.

Bismarkia nobilis

“Farrel, knock it off!!” I yelled at my 70 something neighbor, a former crab fisherman now turned scrawny garden troll… one Mr. Farrel Torchwood.

“Better duck next time, ya fish belly swab. Ya knows I’s at war with them iguanas.” came the screechy reply.

Wiping the glop off my face and shaking my head at the old pirate’s antics I returned to my digging, trying to carve a new home to my formerly perfect Alocasia, while keeping one eye open for incoming fruit.

Dracena marginata"Tricolor"

This event happened many years ago. It came to mind when I was gazing at a killer Alocasia in a Key West garden. It also reminded me to tell you folks some many stories, or the Torchwood Chronicles, as I like to think of them, regarding Farrel and Randia Torchwood…but those are for other posts.

Monstera deliciosa

Tropical gardening, like temperate gardening is often about the stunning flowers that we are able to incorporate into our landscape. Both types of gardens has their share of vivid colors, hues and shapes of blossoms that are sure to turn the heads of even the most jaded, concrete jungle dwelling, bright-lights of the city loving, urbanite.

Codiaeum varigatum "Croton"

However, in this chilled out, coral rock digging, star-light loving, islander’s opinion tropical gardening leads the pack in the foliage department. We have immense array of vibrant colors, soft or crisp textures, wispy or audacious shapes from which to choose when conceiving of a whole development sized landscape or a small corner vignette.

Crinum spp.

Now don’t think for a second that I disparage the temperate gardener, those hardy souls among you that have to deal with frost, winter’s bitter chill and snow. Oh no, these fine gardeners ALWAYS find a way to incorporate magnificent foliage into their gardens, it’s just that I feel nature has blessed the tropical gardener with a larger foliage palette to work with. So enjoy a tiny sample what we are given to play with.

Platycerium spp."Staghorn"

Silent Sunday

2009-09-27T10:51:00.000-07:00

Key West Weird

2009-09-24T13:25:00.000-07:00

Key West always so magical and…well, weird. For those of you that don’t know this island city, well, Google is your friend. Let me just say that from a tropical plantsman’s point of view this odd city is without compare in the continental United States.

First off, this town is populated by an eclectic group of folks. Throw-back hippies and wealthy sports fisherman bend elbows together at any number of watering holes. The examples could be endless but one thing is clear – normal rules don’t apply here and that goes for landscaping as well.

When I first began landscape design and installation there were a myriad of guidelines that seemed correct to follow and are, for most places. Key West is different, huge Ficus trees dominate postage stamp yards, their aerial taking hold in tiny sidewalk cracks and lifting the concrete slabs. Plants jammed in on top of one another with the law of survival firmly in place, except no plant ever seems to give up but finds it own little niche to survive in.

The gingerbread festooned Conch houses are the perfect backdrop to this riotous form of tropical gardening. When I’m out and about seeking pix for this blog I usually try to key all signs of human habitation out of the frame, however the often the wooden shutters or shiplap siding of Key West homes add a certain charm to the images.

I had to run down to Key West the other day to take care of some business for the youth oriented nonprofit org. that I am the Exec. Dir. of…my day job, when not masquerading as a simple garden blog writer. This gave me the chance to grab some images I thought I might share. Welcome to Key Weird…

Stunned.. Award Nomination?..Stunned

2009-09-23T12:41:00.000-07:00

Stunned…I think that’s the correct word, stunned. This blog has been nominated for the Best Florida Blog Award by some of the good members of Blotanical. I’m a new kid on the block and have already been deeply gratified by the warm, favorable comments and messages that have been posted. I’m amazed to find my blog #3 in the Most Visited Blogs and #1 on the Blogs on the Rise page. But now when I open the 2009 Blotanical Awards there is an image of Liz & the Professor under the Florida heading. I’m stunned…

I’ve thought of writing about writing a post regarding the Blotanical directory but I felt it best to wait awhile until I was a more familiar fixture there, yet, now seems a good time.

I was surfing the net looking for FL. gardening blogs when I came upon Blotanical. Hmmm…I thought seems like a cool place…maybe I’ll join…click.

The next morning were warm welcomes from members in my messages, I politely replied thank you and suddenly I noticed more hits on my site meter. In a couple days I received my first fave…very cool, I thought. Then there began this gratifying kinda ground swell of people viewing my blog and commenting. I started writing back and picking lots of blogs to view. I began recognizing names, seeing what blogs were the type to pick up tips from, my writing habits became less formal …it seemed like I was leaning across the garden gate talking plants with friends. Ok…now this is very cool.

In a relatively short period of time, thanks to you folks, I have regained a vibe, a warm feeling, that I had when for 8 great years I had the honor of being the President of Big Pine Botanical Society…a group of laid back Keys folks with dirt under their finger nails who all loved gardening.

So thanks Blotanical, thanks to Stuart and to the members that make it happen. I was absolutely correct that first day I found the site…it is a cool place to hang out. To everyone out there, it’s a standing invitation, stop by my virtual garden gate, chat a bit in the shade and enjoy the Keys sea breeze for a minute.

Stop by Blotanical

See ya, Scott

Butterfly minds

2009-09-22T14:18:00.000-07:00

Gold Rim Swallowtail (Battus polydamus lucayus)

I’ve written about my rather poor skills at butterfly photography and so I submit these rather fuzzy images as proof.

White Peacock (Anartia jatrphae)

Photographing trees - no problem, Key Deer and iguanas – nothing to it, flowers – check (except for the sometimes bothersome wind and the fact that without my glasses I sometimes can’t see what is in focus)…

Mangrove Skipper (Phocides pigmalion okeechobee)

But butterflies…it’s like their little ectoskeleton enclosed minds merrily think of ways to torture me.

Firey Skipper (Hylephila phyleus)

So I now subject you, my gentle reader, to the mental anguish of wondering is your monitor out of focus, do you need to buy a cheap pair of reading glasses?

Queen Butterfly (Danaus gilippus)

Nope, it’s just Scott, publishing crummy, blurry butterfly images. Sorry about that, folks.

It's All My Garden

2009-09-21T13:27:00.000-07:00

For 25 of the 32 years I lived in the Lower Keys I was a professional in the horticulture biz in one way or another. I’ve been out now for awhile and in fact turned my back on gardening for a few years. Let me tell ya it’s nice to rekindle the interest.

This little blog has helped, in that, I have been cruising some of the neighborhoods to grab images to share with you. As I drive, I come across so many properties that I once landscaped or maintained. It’s kind of strange, in tropical landscaping things change fast…REAL fast.

Hurricane Wilma sure didn’t help, not that much wind but much of the Lower and Middle Keys were overwashed with salt water. So many plants died from saltwater intrusion. Now we have the invasion of the

iguanas. Gardens have had it tough down here.

Hmmm… back to the point… the gardens I once thought of as mine have changed, the owners have changed but in some way they are still mine. Sort of like an old flame from high school, you remember them the way they were, appreciate them as they are now and you still care…even if just a little bit. So I hope you understand me when I say…it’s all my garden.

Orchids and Hermits

2009-09-20T19:33:00.000-07:00

After the normal mundane chores of the weekend I had a bit of time to look about the garden and found an orchid that I had forgotten about.

This dendrobium was a gift from a friend that I had divided and stuck one half in a Buttonwood tree (Conocaprus erectus). The half in a pot bloomed at the same time as the one in the tree but the flower spike only lasted about 2 weeks.

The tree dweller has been bloming for at least a month now. Guess it's happy and suprise...the iguanas haven't found it.

This Common Land Hermit crab (Coenobita clypeatus) was literally hanging out in one of the bromeliad blooms. How he made up there is still a mystery.Not such a common crab to me!!

Walkingsticks and My Coffee

2009-09-18T13:21:00.000-07:00

“There, done!” I thought, wiping the sweat from my face on my dingy t-shirt.

It was time for a pruning and cleanup in one small corner of the property, next to the plumeria. All that was left to do was put the pruned palm fronds in trash barrels for the garbage man. I can chip up any branches and prunings but the little chipper/shredder just can’t handle palm fronds. (Yes, I’ve found out the hard way, as the frond turns into a ball of fibers, stuck in the shredder. This event is accompanied by squeal of the shredder drive belt and the stench of burning rubber, usually followed by mumbled cursing as I try to get the fiber ball dislodged from the shredder drum.)

The Dachshund was sniffing around(as usual) happily rooting away in the debris pile I had just masterfully created when she let out an ear-splitting, gut wrenching squeal followed by a series of little dog yips…turned tail and came flying out of the pile heading for house.

“Now what did that stupid dog get into… centipede, scorpion…” I wondered as I peeled apart the formerly masterfully created pile. My sympathy level was a bit low for the dog being as she had just finished drinking all my iced coffee that I had set down, apparently at a convenient dachshund level. Getting near the bottom of the pile, on the outside edge I found the culprit…or should I say culprits.

An amorous pair of Two-Striped Walkingsticks (Anisomopha buprestoides) were sorta hiding atop a palm frond. A smaller male was as is common, perched atop the much larger female.These “devil’s darning needles” have the ability to squirt a strong- smelling defensive spray with awesome accuracy. As Twinkles the Dachshund (I didn’t name her, I’d have picked a manly dog name like Spike or Rex) found out, this is a painful irritating substance to mucous membranes (such as Dachshund noses).

I ran upstairs to check on the dog (snuffleing a bit but apparently unharmed), grabbed my camera and a new cup of iced coffee. Back out I went. Putting my coffee down, playing with camera adjustments, I set about making like a nature photographer and started snapping a few pix while muttering “That’s it, work it kids. The camera loves you…HEY… TWINKLES, GET OUT OF MY COFFEE!!!...stupid dog…sigh.”