After the floods.

I have fallen in love with the website Nashvillest during these last few days of post-deluge horror. Had been an occasional surfer before, but between their site loaded with helpful links and their excellent Twitter feed, we found all the information we could possibly need to help us figure out how to deal with our (minor, in comparison) water issues. Things like this make me unbelievably proud to be living here. So far we've had no riots, no major lootings, nothing to add to the load of what already was happening... and subsequently no media coverage, but that's changing.

So pull together, people, and conserve, and help out. So many of our friends need everything. God help us dig out of this mess soon...

We took a few pictures around our area of town. Nothing like some parts (Opryland, oh Lord) but still jaw-dropping. Just when things were lush, green, blooming (ahchoo!), they were stopped by what must have been literal walls of churning, debris-choked water. The pictures below were taken in an area that has a normally small, winding and picturesque little creek running through a golf course/greenway area, and on through a business section (below) near Interstate 40. Further west of here I40 became completely impassable and countless friends lost everything under 4-5 feet of water. We took the poor pictures below, but there are countless pages on flickr and Facebook that have truly unbelievable photos you can see. And check out my friends Darren and Brian's design blog with pictures that Brian took just yesterday.

Please pray or help our city if you are so inclined. The Red Cross or the Community Foundation are recommended places to start.

Springy.

For Elaine, the constant gardener.

via The Farmers' Almanac.

Transplanting
May is the biggest transplanting month. A seedling’s move to the outdoors can be traumatic. Here are some tips to minimize transplant shock:

• Be sure the plants “harden off.” During plants’ last week indoors, lower temperatures a bit, withhold fertilizer, and water less often.

• For the last 7 to 10 days, bring seedlings outdoors for increasing periods each day, first placing them in dappled shade, protected from winds, and then gradually moving them into full sun and wind.

Do not leave seedlings outside if there is danger of frost. See frost-free dates for your area.

• When buying plants at a nursery, choose stocky plants with deep-green foliage, roughly as wide as they are tall.

• Ideally, the seedlings that you grow or buy are in individual containers so that you do not disturb the roots of neighboring seedlings when you remove each plant.

Read more tips on transplanting your seedlings.

For planting by the Moon dates, see our 2009 Outdoor Planting Table.

Almost true again.

Spring may be in full swing, but May 11, 12, and 13 often revert to the colder days of winter, according to weather lore.

The Three Chilly Saints—Mamertus, Pancras, and Gervais (also called Mammertius, Pancratius, and Gervatius or Servatius)—often celebrated their feast days during a cold snap. Some called them the Ice Saints or Frost Saints, and many farmers held off planting until after the Three Chilly Saints’ days had passed.

Germans knew these days as the Iceman Days, and both the English and French watched for a late frost around this time. St. Boniface (May 14) and the chilly “blackthorn winds” were associated with them, too.

St. Pancras Day (May 12) never passes without frost.

Where is he?

Memory weather.

All day long I kept feeling as if I were in my college years at Texas Tech, studying art. That image above is probably one of the projects I was working on at the time.
It's been cloudy and windy, cool and fresh and polleny all day. Even the songs on radios in my car, in stores, in the grocery, all things I loved to listen to during that time. Sensory deja vu, and it's hard to explain. Maybe my subconscious is wishing I were back home, even as I am enjoying another lovely Tennessee spring. I shudder to think that 20 years ago next month (er, tomorrow), I was getting set to graduate high school.

Oh, it hurts to think about it. But I would never, ever go back and do it again. It's much, much better on this side of it all.

Aperio: to open.

I think it might be possible to discern the season even with the eyes closed:
crisp fresh cold air with an icy tinge
polleny sweetness of blooming trees
cacophony of birds trilling their lungs out
everpresent sounds of lawn mowers

and in my home, the scent of vinegary Windex and mopped floors (yes, occasionally) and lavender. It's too cold, when the sun goes away, to leave the windows open, but I do. Because I can't help myself. April: it means "to open"...

Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices

instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable

shrieking into the heart of the night.

- Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke

I'm no photographer

but here's the first little glimpses of spring out our neck of the woods...

Sari Bari and springtime

Still a few items left after the good folks at Sari Bari reloaded their online store this past Wednesday. Such a great organization, nice people, and wonderful product. I've been the lucky recipient and buyer of a number of bags and blankets... so much so, that I was told "no more" (you know who you are, Melinda)... yet, what goes around comes around and I was given a beautiful new one during a recent bout with the flu. Hee.

If you've gotten one of these items before, let me know what you think, and felt, after seeing their story. I'd love to hear it. And the fact that there is presently sunshine enough in which to photograph them is beyond words. Hallelujah. Happy first day of Spring!

Spring begins with the vernal equinox on March 20 at exactly 7:44 A.M. EDT. The word equinox is derived from the Latin for “equal night” and is used now because the days and nights are of nearly equal length.

The vernal, or spring, equinox is the point at which the Sun appears to cross the celestial equator from south to north, signaling the beginning of nature's renewal in the Northern Hemisphere.

After the equinox, the Sun will appear higher and higher in the sky, and the days will grow longer. The tilt of Earth’s axis as it travels around the Sun causes the change of seasons.
— www.almanac.com

On the first day of spring,
I dig my fingers deep into
the soft earth.
I can feel its energy, and my spirits soar.
–Helen Hayes (1900–93)

Maybe cuz it's FIVE degrees and falling.

Started another little quilt. Making it the length of the couch, so's I can be warm all the way to my feet. Even making these is a very warming activity, which is a good thing in a house that is about 59° no matter what the thermostat is set on.

Time for more wood on the fire.

Brr.

Weather update.

Update: had plenty of time to doodle while huge photoshop files were saving, so more detail and less sunlight below:

Indian summer.

I've always wondered.
Indian Summer
Definition: A period of warm weather following a cold spell or a hard frost, Indian summer can occur between St. Martin’s Day (November 11) and November 20. Although there are differing dates for its occurrence, for more than 200 years the Almanac has adhered to the saying "If All Saints’ brings out winter, St. Martin’s brings out Indian summer." As for the origin of the term, some say it comes from the early Native Americans, who believed that the condition was caused by a warm wind sent from the court of their southwestern god, Cautantowwit.

Update: I love the Farmers' Almanac. It tells me that tonight, Thursday night, is the Full Beaver Moon or Frost Moon, a sign of freezing weather coming up. And that tomorrow (the 15th) is the birthday of composer Aaron Copland.
And I get this little timely poem:

No shade, no shine, no butterflies,
no bees
No fruit, no flowers, no leaves,
no birds! -- No-vember!
—Thomas Hood (1799-1845)

Wonder if walnuts count...

According to my trusty Farmers' Almanac, the following are signs of a sure-fire cold winter:

• Geese fly south at a high altitude.
• Oak trees bear many acorns.
• Chipmunks are abundant.
• Lakes and rivers freeze later than usual.
• Onions grow thicker skins than usual.
• Squirrels are gathering a large supply of nuts.
• Woodpeckers appear early.
• Lots of berries.
• Corn husks are thicker and stronger.

Given our surplus of wacky walnuts, and the squirrels to go with them, I'm wondering if I need to spend a few more days at the woodpile.

Doesn't look bad to me.

I think I can live with this for at least a week.

Fun is relative.

Interesting sites from my pop. We're a weird family. I love them so!

Could it finally be?

At long last, could this finally happen? Will we actually get some snow?? I've stopped getting my hopes up over the last 8-10 years here, and coming from dust-laden, warm west Texas, I had some high hopes for Tennessee! Here's to the precipitation... I raise my cup of tea high, even if my thoughts are low.

Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, "Where have I gone wrong?"/ Then a voice says to me, "This is going to take more than one night."
— Charles Schulz

Hitting Close to Home.

Wildfires ripped through much of West Texas today, prompting a small flurry of emails and cell phone calls (land lines were out due to fires) within my family. It's so dang dry out there... I'd gladly share some of the rain we've been getting. So is this El Niño, La Niña, Al Gore, or Big Oil? I don't care, just so long as it stops...

Cold.

It's cold out, but the moon is full and perfect, and it's time to eclipse! I hope you're watching. I keep running to the window...
Went to the Belcourt this week and I started remembering how I used to go a lot when I first moved here, 12 years ago. Saw some really good movies and some great shows, but interestingly enough, all when it's really really cold out. I'm glad somebody saved Belcourt. If only for the fact that I could see the world's most slatheringly gorgeous head of grey hair.
Now the moon's covered. How cool.

bloody weather.

snow
snow
snow
snow
snow
snow
snow