Miniature world

 

You could get lost gazing into these shining miniature forests on the old apple tree. Once again, kudos to the amazing point and shoot iPhone camera.

Lichen is neither plant nor animal, in fact they’re organisms unlike any other on Earth, being a combination of algae and fungus. Lichen rely on the atmosphere for all their nutrients and are a food source and habitat for countless insects and animals. They don't harm the surfaces they grow on.

Lichens are sensitive to air pollution and only thrive in clean environments. All the old wood in our yard is covered with it, so I guess that's a healthy sign. It takes decades to grow.

Our lovely wild yard is certainly teeming with insects. Many people consider lichen unsightly, in the same category as dirt and mold. Of course there are chemicals to get rid of it. We shouldn't be in a hurry to destroy things we don't even understand.

A fine mess

 

There are dozens of tulips in there ready to bloom, struggling up between invasive bluebell clumps that take over the beds in the spring. I can't dig them out without decapitating the lilies and other nice things just showing their heads. Anyway.

We watched the Martha Stewart Netflix special a while ago, and one of the things that tireless (tiresome?) woman said was, "If you don't like your garden, RIP IT OUT and plant a new one!"

Easy for her, with an army of gardeners to boss around. It will be a while until I'm in there on hands and knees again. But at least a pretty mess at the moment.

Now here's a happy sight. The plum tree has a few flower buds, and if the pollinators do their work we might have fruit. Hopefully not an obscene amount like two years ago, but enough to make a new batch of plum chutney would be nice.

 

Spring is trying hard to break though, and the sun is strong when it does appear. I have a little private place next to the deck to watch the birds when the chair dries out between April showers. 

We have the first warm weekend coming up, when people go completely bonkers in Seattle.
 

Hilaria

 

 

"It is easier to fool people
than it is to convince them
that they have been fooled."
Mark Twain

 

Long before April Fools’ Day, there was the ancient Roman festival of Hilaria. It was a day of rejoicing and cheerfulness after the gloom of winter.  The first day of a better season, when no one was allowed to show signs of grief or sorrow. 

If you get fooled today, I hope it's a kindly, gentle trick. 

 

Meanwhile, a few nice pictures sent from south of the border. The families are currently in Cabo Pulmo, a tiny town 60 rough road miles north of Los Cabos. It is known for the national park and best reef snorkeling on the Baja Peninsula. 

The Sea of Cortez looks a bit choppy...
 

April, come she will

 

 

From painful past experience, you would think I'd remember not to overdo the yard work each spring. Also, the double whammy last week of moving heavy pots around and around. No one made me do it, but I was excited getting the patio organized after the deck was finished. It looks great but now Advil is my best friend.

The plan this week is easy walking, stretching and not lifting anything heavier than a bag of potatoes. 

They say the worst thing for lower back pain is sitting, which we did plenty of at the Symphony yesterday. 

It was a good program though, featuring a new African American themed saxophone concerto (not something you hear everyday) and that old chestnut, "The Planets" by Gustav Holtz-- complete with NASA space pictures on a big screen above the stage. People enjoy these multimedia presentations, but to cranky old time symphony goers, it’s too much like gilding the lily.

Farewell and good riddance to the stormy month of March.

Busy

 

I've been busy the last few days getting things organized after the deck project. Even though it was outside, any construction event somewhat scrambles your life and brain. 

Also time for the spring switcheroo with the jade plants. These guys are actually from cuttings I potted last summer. 

When the plants get too unwieldy and heavy, I chop them up and plant the pieces. For some reason, Jades love the summer climate here. They thrive with neglect. I bought a new tiered plant stand and like the look on the porch.

Maya and Nova in a tropical courtyard...

Amanda, Tom and the girls are exploring southern Baja on spring break this week. They are skipping the Cabo San Lucas tourist scene and heading by rental car to some of the more remote areas and beaches. Let's see, Taiwan last week-- this week Mexico for Nova. Kinda like when we were teenagers, huh?  Ha ha.

They are traveling with two other families from the Methow Valley so it should be a blast. I am only human, and yes, feeling jealous looking out at our rainy yard. Maybe someday I'll see the amazing wildlife in the Sea of Cortez. In these appalling times, it might be renamed the Sea of America by then. 
 

All's clear

 

There hasn't been a severe thunderstorm warning in Seattle since 1999. The news outlets went crazy and had some people so scared they took their cars downtown to covered parking garages. Expensive and inconvenient! 

I watched our neighbor trying to cover his fancy Rivian with patio furniture cushions, which freaked me out a bit.

Anyway, all this frantic activity seemed overkill for such a slight chance of big hail. My only preparation was cutting a bunch of hyacinths in peak bloom so the dear things wouldn't get beaten to the ground.  I'm glad, because I'm laying on the sofa right now smelling their heavenly aroma.

Anyway, no hail in Seattle, but it was an impressive thunder and lightening storm by any standard. Speaking of aroma, I stood on the porch right before it rolled in with that peculiar ozone smell that took me right back to childhood in Colorado and Pennsylvania, where violent thunderstorms are common.

We might complain about the monotony of grey skies and rain, but our mild coastal climate is a blessing.