birthday blizzard!

Apparently, I am getting a blizzard for my birthday. While that puts the kibosh on the super secret birthday plans downtown, a foot of snow is a pretty good substitute (especially since the plans can be revisited after the holidays). Hopefully it won’t prevent folks from gathering here for Christmas, but it’s going to be messy driving all up and down the coast and poorly plowed and iced over streets in the DC area through the rest of next week. But, I’m willing to be pleasantly surprised!

To prepare for this snowtastrophe, I went to the grocery store and will be going to Home Depot for paint, another grocery store for more stuff the first grocery store didn’t have, the liquor store, and the gas station (where I’ll also put more air in the tires). When I get home, I’ll take the leaves from the piles in the front to the back beds and bring in the ceramic pots from the porch.

Okay, that was all stuff I was doing today anyway. I’m just trying to get in the freak-out mood here in the nation’s capitol (of nonexistent plowing).

birthday blizzard!

garden : refugees and autumn clean-up

This autumn found us with a number of refugee plants on our porch that required a permanent spot in the yard. The sad demise of the hydrangea and the clethra twigs at the end of the summer left some space open, and we expanded the planted areas to include spaces in front of and under the azaleas near the house.

There were two main categories of plants: those moved from our neighbor’s yard as she thinned the plants she’d acquired with the house, and those I couldn’t resist bringing home from the autumn plant swap I organized in town. In the first category, I had pink and red mums and a bag of mixed daffodil and jonquil bulbs, the latter of which had spent the summer under the bench on the front porch, a storage method I don’t recommend but which resulted in only a handful of rotten bulbs. The pink mums went in front of the white azalea on the right side of the porch (as you face the house); not that they bloom at the same time of year, but I like to spread the pink around. For a person who really is not a fan of pink, I’m acquiring quite the variety of pink flowers in my garden. The daffodil bulbs I planted under the smaller of the pink azaleas on the left side of the house, under the sassafras. There’s quite a nice patch of ground there, now that the liriope and ivy has been beaten back, and if the daffodils do bloom, they’ll be easily visible from the street. I am not entirely confident that they’ll get enough sun, but they’re easy enough to move (and they certainly weren’t going to bloom from a bag on the porch!).

The last refugee from a friend was a small sage, which I also planted on the right side of the steps. It will probably grow into the space currently occupied by the spring bulbs, which is fine; I’ll move them as needed and it will be nice to have an herb there rather than the bare patch we get when the bulbs die back. None of the perennials I planted on that side of the steps really took, either from lack of sun or competition from the maple roots. I hope the ones in the larger front bed will return next year; we may need to take the more drastic step of burying edging material to keep the small tree roots from encroaching and smothering the flowers.

For the first time this year, Women’s Club members (myself included) organized an autumn plant exchange. The real hit of the swap was the sale of plants by Chesapeake Natives volunteers; the group raised over $300 by selling native perennials for $2 to $6 each. I managed to resist purchasing any—although I will probably replace some of the plants I purchased last spring with native varieties, now that I know where to find them—and came home with only a few flowers that were donated by neighbors. I was pleased to acquire a peach climbing rose and more bearded iris. I have found myself incapable of turning down a free iris, so despite already having some lavender irises waiting to be planted (in a bag, under the bench on the porch) I accepted some white ones and a couple of a fancier variety that combine cream and a darker purple (I think). The irises went into the sidewalk bed, on the end where the space had been cleared for the ill-fated clethra ‘bush,’ and the rose was planted on the southeast corner of the house in the spot that had been prepared for the hydrangea. The iris will look nice on that end of the bed, as it’s the first group of plants you see as you approach the house. I expect that if I’m able to keep the rose alive and create an adequate support for it, it will also look nice anchoring the corner of the bed against the house. Any support will also create some visual structure for that front bed, as everything else currently in it dies down and is cut back in the winter. Just as soon as I get another couple of dry days, I’m going to put the next batch of compost around the plant and cover the whole area with mulch.

In addition to all this planting, I cut back and cleaned up the dying foliage from the summer plants, something I will try to do earlier next year (at least in the case of the peonies). We’ve also completed two rounds of leaf raking, and the ground is covered again. With a little luck we’ll get a dry stretch next week that will allow us to clean them up when they’re a bit easier to manage. Wrestling with a lawn full of wet leaves is not my idea of fun, even by yard work standards!

garden : refugees and autumn clean-up

birds : migrant kinglets

The Ruby-crowned Kinglets are making their way through our area, likely somewhat stalled by the nasty cold rain we had most of last week. On my way back from the mailbox this morning I passed several little chatterers flitting around in the bushes near the public library. Even better, yesterday I had a kinglet hover at the back window and flash its crown at me. No doubt it thought it was flashing its crown at another kinglet—who was also disappointingly male—but it reminded me of the time a couple of years ago when a kinglet near the Tidal Basin tried to mate with me by flying out from a tree and flashing its crown. I guess I can add kinglets to my dogs-and-preschoolers list of beings who are typically unduly excited to see me.

birds : migrant kinglets

weekend visit to Patuxent NWR

It’s been a long time since I’ve hiked around Patuxent NWR, and I took advantage of yesterday’s beautiful clear afternoon to suggest a trip up there. The full Cash Lake trail was open, not yet closed for the season to protect the waterfowl that winter at the park. In addition to getting some fresh air after days of being stuck inside avoiding first humidity and then thunderstorms, we were also testing out my partner’s new hiking boots in advance of our trip up to Acadia National Park next month.

The hike itself was really more of a nature stroll than a hike that anyone who owns those pants that zip off into shorts would recognize as such. Patuxent is usually good for birds, but we saw hardly any: some goldfinches in by the Redington Lake bridge, a red-tailed hawk being chased by some crows above the beaver dam, some chickadees and nuthatches in the woods, a noisy red-bellied woodpecker, and a lone male kingfisher flying up the shore of Cash Lake. The highlight of the walk was definitely the amphibians: the previous two days of rain had created the ideal summer environment for frogs. We saw green frogs in the learning garden pond by the visitors’ center, a veritable mob of leopard frogs in a puddle at the base of the trail, and a lone cricket frog doing exactly what the guidebook said it would, which was attempting to evade us by a series of erratic hops. (I still caught it, but only to examine the teeniest frog I’d ever seen for identification purposes and then move it to the grass from the path of the trolley.) We also saw a skink, climbing a tree near where we’d stopped to locate the woodpecker; it was only the second time I’d seen one, so that was exciting.

In addition to frogs, the meadows were alive with butterflies. We saw Monarchs, Eastern and Black Swallowtails, Red-spotted Purples, a Great Spangled Fritillary, and a Common Buckeye. It’s possible that I also saw Spicebush and/or Pipevine Swallowtails, a Common Wood Nymph, and Least or Delaware Skippers (I didn’t have the book with me, so all identifications were from made at home from memory). We also saw a couple of something that looked like a cross between a cicada and a hummingbird, that we named Mini Mothra. There were dozens of dragonflies, including several distinct types I’d never seen before, but I didn’t have that book with me, either. All the dragonflies and frogs, in combination with a nice breeze off the lakes, meant that we weren’t bothered by mosquitoes at all.

weekend visit to Patuxent NWR

PG Pool

Upon the urging of my yoga teacher, I joined PG Pool, a local private pool in Mount Rainier. I’m not really a private pool kind of person, having spent nearly every summer at my local public pool, first as a swimmer and later as a lifeguard. But, neither is she, and she assured me that it’s a very open pool full of hippies. The ‘hairy-legged breastfeeding pool’ is how it was described to her 18 years ago; that might not be as true these days, since they’ve redone the filter system and the pool liner and our area has gotten a bit more hip in the intervening time. Still, though, there’s a sign at the entrance that says they won’t discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity or veteran status or disability, so that’s a pretty good indication that there are still some hippies kicking around.

Since we’ve joined, I’ve been swimming about every other day. It’s a small miracle that I am able to swim laps at all without having a nonfunctional shoulder, a result I attribute to a decade of body work and physical therapy. More recently, credit is due to the aligning and strengthening effects of 8 months of twice-weekly yoga classes. So I’m back in the pool and the pool is lovely; I’m only doing 600 meters at a time, but this is the most I’ve swum in over a decade so I’m happy. I never thought I’d be glad to have Speedo ™ tanlines, but I am! Truly, any visible marker of my progress is fine with me, and they come with my hair getting back to its ‘normal’ color. (You know, the color it is when I spend all day every day outside in the sun all summer…not something that people could confuse with brown!)

In addition to my regular swims, we’ve been going on weekend evenings to use the gas grills and hang out for the music and late night events. We keep running into people we know from other venues—neighbors, friend of a friend from college, more students of my yoga teacher—and we’re getting to know some new folks as well. We haven’t yet met any other members without kids, and that definitely makes us an anomaly there. I get the impression that the other adults who joined to swim laps go to the early morning swim; I suppose we probably are anomalies as non-parents who don’t mind spending an evening surrounded by hordes of kids.

One of the nice things about the pool is getting to share it with our friends, and we’re looking forward to another picnic dinner there on Saturday. If you show up then, you may get to witness the rare event of my partner drinking beer from a can! (No glass allowed.) Yes, it will probably be some weird imported stuff, but a can is a can.

PG Pool