tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54523807410565536662024-03-13T15:40:33.661-04:00Maplewood, NJ • GardeningMaplewood, NJ • Gardening:
Making the most of the growing seasonJane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-1081071615568310812010-08-27T21:02:00.007-04:002011-08-15T22:32:00.804-04:00Winston's new trickThis post has nothing to do with gardening but instead my dog Winston. He has learned a new trick and my mother was unable to see the movie I took of him in the email I sent her earlier for some technical reason. The trick is my 12-year-old dog catching a dog biscuit off the top of his nose. So Mom – this is for you!<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>Close – but no cigars:</div><div><br />
</div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyGJgarystjRrNleU_SGRBmEDBO-rkNbtK5GErbsV0G71mbqugBuPgokPOVRmX8WhYry0MHCwkq5dFvnuN1sw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
<div><br />
</div><div>Yes! The catch!</div><div><br />
</div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyoDSEPejdvbX081UngfGPzKQtfaQ8A0Jqhwe5WEVEIx42il32Tv6am0zL3Cp6vw9Auxuvyx04o5zW8VNoo2w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-28176155323464336352010-07-25T09:35:00.009-04:002010-07-25T10:22:07.808-04:00Birds and Grapes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizG2qcpikl9MA7ayC6Psc47ToRnY1EaHbfldTHzCI18nPODbJjaXZwJvCHFSc1E-G2KVK1IHCX7K9B5EEBOWZTBUdZSGIs4-nWY49QFAUnbgSvq4eeSK04zUGees5cFO6Et_-v-MdS5YRz/s1600/photo-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizG2qcpikl9MA7ayC6Psc47ToRnY1EaHbfldTHzCI18nPODbJjaXZwJvCHFSc1E-G2KVK1IHCX7K9B5EEBOWZTBUdZSGIs4-nWY49QFAUnbgSvq4eeSK04zUGees5cFO6Et_-v-MdS5YRz/s400/photo-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497837457439860882" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666600;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Concord grape</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">s</span></i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666600;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">I love having birds to watch in my backyard just outside my kitchen window. I have all the things that attract them to the area – birdfeeders, including a suet feeder and two birdbaths. Yesterday it was close to 100° out and I had the joy of watching four birds splashing around at once in the large birdbath. An amazing sight! I have found though that birds love grapes as much as we do and I have pretty much surrendered our grapes to them after finding for years that there isn't much you can do to save the fruit from our feathered friends. I tried netting the grape vines to keep the birds out and it was just a mess and not very attractive visually.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgci0ReX9xF0ORWfYKf1_VxTitxeEOERrizNqQx7ODYJDduLv20EVVix6VkfzK2_pEhzApNtAQ22DqHBqfjD_nWQF2UwcphavTz2-AM3rO8o7h8YxZEn3INiAloqrYGk4fgj1ySvd0367U3/s1600/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgci0ReX9xF0ORWfYKf1_VxTitxeEOERrizNqQx7ODYJDduLv20EVVix6VkfzK2_pEhzApNtAQ22DqHBqfjD_nWQF2UwcphavTz2-AM3rO8o7h8YxZEn3INiAloqrYGk4fgj1ySvd0367U3/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497840521173689202" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666600;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Perfect form. Notice the clipped end on the vine here. To keep the vines from covering the house and orderly, I cut them back twice in the growing season.</span></span></span></i></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Surprisingly, this year we have quite a bunch of grapes that the birds have left for us. Last night I clipped a few and they were really tasty. They really have that flavor of the sugary sweet Welch's grape juice. Most however, still have some ripening left to do. Hopefully, we can get to them before the birds do.</div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-330994190258395392010-06-30T22:36:00.008-04:002010-08-08T08:37:43.855-04:00Long lost ideaLast weekend, I was knocking around in the yard and went into the garage to find my clippers to cut some hydrangeas blooms (look for this blog posting later – as promised). I saw a True Value paper bag on a shelf and wondered what in the world could be in it.<div><br /></div><div>When I opened it I thought, "Oh, yeah – I remember this idea!" The thought occurred one weekend last year – a little later in the summer than now – and it had come full circle. It was finally time for me to reap the benefits of this gardening time capsule.</div><div><br /></div><div>In 2009, I had the mother of all green bean varieties. I don't remember its name though which isn't too surprising. I usually just buy the seeds, plant and water and throw away the empty packet. I don't label the row where it is planted or keep a detailed gardening journal like I wish I did.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyways, the seeds produced a ton of green beans. I don't mean, say over the course of its season in the veggie garden, but instead referring to each plant. I remember going out and picking green beans one Saturday and getting fifteen pods per plant! A mother load by my standards. And they kept producing after that picking!</div><div><br /></div><div>So, just before cold weather set in last year, I decided to pick a few green beans and let them dry whole for another year of a bumper crop of beans and of course completely forgot about sticking them in the paper bag. Out of sight (in the garage), out of mind (on to the next household project). Finding them was great though and it couldn't have come at a better time because I just harvested my red potatoes, leaving two rows of nothingness. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyEQqOS2qBqtVGdr7BOZlFKVTawcc-_zDD9U9dazbeZXMBbr9uU47SrBexKoldVfTlhj876UnS452LJm4G2vfe1JxoE5yG88SBugw5dPbvD53_Uxq3uhrTDEVJ36_eon9xUPlmVW_oQK8D/s1600/Beans.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyEQqOS2qBqtVGdr7BOZlFKVTawcc-_zDD9U9dazbeZXMBbr9uU47SrBexKoldVfTlhj876UnS452LJm4G2vfe1JxoE5yG88SBugw5dPbvD53_Uxq3uhrTDEVJ36_eon9xUPlmVW_oQK8D/s400/Beans.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488767217604180530" /></a><i><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666600;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Shelled "green" beans ready for planting</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666600;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">.</span></span></span></div></i></div><div><br /></div><div>This Sunday I will be planting the dried white beans to see if the most telling aspect of this plan works – a sprout emerging from the soil in about a week's time! Stay tuned ...</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Addendum:</b> Of the 30 or so seeds planted, only one came up! I supplemented the rows with the "Kentucky Wonder" variety and they are coming up beautifully in the late growing season. I hope to have green beans by the end of September.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></b></span></span></div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-71690688064227943902010-06-06T10:38:00.010-04:002010-06-06T16:14:43.769-04:00The bane of my existenceI have pine trees in my backyard which means pinestraw, pollen, dripping sap and pinecones – lots of pinecones.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrv_5xE4Aa9nBfB2prD3e8IiBImG2mszQ0Bh3frV7vi4wtYiZ3UrzbyRUrLfdHaN-nu9Au-9pD7BNJhF6n8PaBhGnh-bu4iPfbU9WX8jAz6VUG_p4uyTlHMeupAsV5GxKfBag1SSdfjl_U/s1600/Pine+cone+detail.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrv_5xE4Aa9nBfB2prD3e8IiBImG2mszQ0Bh3frV7vi4wtYiZ3UrzbyRUrLfdHaN-nu9Au-9pD7BNJhF6n8PaBhGnh-bu4iPfbU9WX8jAz6VUG_p4uyTlHMeupAsV5GxKfBag1SSdfjl_U/s400/Pine+cone+detail.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479676165952884546" /></a><br /></div><div>The family who lived in this house before us planted three trees along the property line. Apparently, they won the young saplings from a contest decades ago. I am all for planting trees and memorable family outdoor projects. I have planted nearly a dozen of various tree types with my family. But pines are my least favorite of trees because of the mess they leave behind from season to season and because of their tendency to snap in high winds and potentially cause all kinds of property damage. </div><div><br /></div><div>When we were putting in our patio a couple of years ago, the workers dug into one of trees roots and it eventually died which cost us an arm and a leg to have removed. Another of the original three trees doesn't look very healthy and is loosing its bark at the top. It is relatively small and lumberjack Steve will most likely take care of this one should it perish. But the mother tree which is closet to the house, next to the patio, is fat and healthy. The only good thing about this pine tree is that it does provide morning shade to our house and some pinestraw for mulching, but not too much thankfully.</div><div><div><br /></div><div>The bad thing and the bane of my existence it seems is that it drops dozens of the small pinecones on the patio and across the yard. So much so that I have started to leave a bucket out to collect these. The need is there for me to periodically survey the yard on the hunt for these items that hide within our grass so we don't step on one barefoot and especially for the sake of my dog Winston – to prevent him from stepping on one of the prickly cones – ouch!</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2SHWtpnog8oBKigJ-iX8eVXR2j8D9SrwAYDE7FcZk9J2dWPwrf18GGcxpZCUL7HUV6EgGe_V97bSWAkEsGzGkpr02IkNZd89wHw_pDn3RwcFDahcawOC_DlHfW_1fxRgKZuMWGMW720a/s1600/Pine+cones.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh2SHWtpnog8oBKigJ-iX8eVXR2j8D9SrwAYDE7FcZk9J2dWPwrf18GGcxpZCUL7HUV6EgGe_V97bSWAkEsGzGkpr02IkNZd89wHw_pDn3RwcFDahcawOC_DlHfW_1fxRgKZuMWGMW720a/s400/Pine+cones.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479676521493046434" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>They are pretty as far as color and overall symmetrical design. They are also pretty annoying.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><i>Up next: My collection of hydrangeas</i></span></div></div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-61086048115264039392010-04-11T09:15:00.015-04:002010-04-11T11:42:06.995-04:00DogwoodsSpring is here and some of my favorite plants and trees are blooming – one of them the dogwood tree with a variety of white, pink and red flowers, depending on the species. The tree has a special place in my heart and has always provided me with a sense of renewal after the long, gray winter months.<div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGKfaWWl2KVqRV7Ub-lsAFMzcbaVj00034lr280z6CT5IPQYFygymbo1Bq9BAmkvk6gPbgajU5cfitn2rZkbjku8YxAB7aWt1iTdkfpizisYbU9A-4x2D_1t_rdRx8zik7W5X4nACmGXJY/s1600/Pink+dogwood+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 360px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGKfaWWl2KVqRV7Ub-lsAFMzcbaVj00034lr280z6CT5IPQYFygymbo1Bq9BAmkvk6gPbgajU5cfitn2rZkbjku8YxAB7aWt1iTdkfpizisYbU9A-4x2D_1t_rdRx8zik7W5X4nACmGXJY/s400/Pink+dogwood+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458891269044031938" /></a><br /><div><div>When I was growing up in Birmingham, I couldn't wait for the dogwoods to flower. We had a few in our yard and then there were those that dotted the woods where my friends and I would ride our bikes and hike to what we called "the river." It was really a creek that fed into the Cahaba River – to us kids, however, it was a river. Anyways, each year, gardening associations would assemble something called the Dogwood Trail – a drive that took you to a selection of homes and landscapes with outstanding specimens of this flowering tree which thrives under the canopy of taller trees, but can do alright in full sun when planted as an ornamental.</div><div><br /></div><div>As an adult, this tree is really tops due to the colors it offers in this season, similar to how I feel about maples and oaks in the fall. As a child, though, it was sometimes hard to appreciate. When I was about 10 years-old, I remember seeing a dogwood that I wasn't particularity fond of. My family was returning from my father's father's funeral in Cannon's Campground, S.C. when we pulled into our driveway and noticed a small tree had been planted in our front yard. It was a small pink dogwood that Mrs. Green and some other neighbors decided to plant as a memorial to my grandfather. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was a total surprise to us and a lovely gesture now that I put some thought into it. However, to me and my brothers and sister at the time thought it totally ruined our baseball field, seeing it was planted just beyond the pitcher's mound and beyond the sidewalk which marked the 50 yard line to our football field. </div><div><br /></div><div>My father was thrilled with the empathy shown with the tree and the thought that this might put an end to his Bermuda grass being trampled. Somehow we managed to still play the games there with our friends, dodging the limbs that seemed to reach out as if to grab us as we rounded second base or sprinted to the neighbor's driveway indicating a touchdown. </div><div><br /></div><div>As we grew older, this flowering tree became the backdrop to my family's Easter pictures with all of us dressed in our Sunday best church outfits. It was also a tradition of mine to pick one of the flowers and press it in my bible from year to year where it would dry, resembling a cross. Interestingly, two of its petals are longer than the other two. It is no surprise today that I still have dried bits and pieces of the flowers stuck in the binding.</div><div><br /></div><div>What I find especially nice about the dogwood is that it isn't a compact tree like the blooming pear and cherry trees. These trees' rather dense blooms demands attention, not being able to see through its color ladened shape. The dogwood's branches are less numerous and have more of a horizontal sprawl, providing an airy feel against the spring green backdrop of its surroundings and offering the chance to see other colorful plants.</div><div><br /></div><div>Living in New Jersey now, I notice that there are a lot more of the pink and red dogwoods. I'm sure it has something to do with the nutrients in the soil or the temperature of the area being more suitable for it. There is a particular standout in a yard on the way to the park that is just beautiful this time of the year. It is a very mature, large tree loaded with vibrant red flowers. Once while on a walk, the home's owner was outside and I was able to ask him the species name – a Cherokee Chief red.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-6BwQ4k9w56qGNSU8i7O4rUrmfrmevUg7VZ5Afq-8GgVYjyVGQg0pGs0TQg_WmwXGasyxpBt6CHS0ThSXCdJDzzC4y2CcVIi8Iw2wuQoZYUOtiFJZObFQhD1Z71eIF6OmkQ-Ti1Q0_fO/s1600/Pink+dogwood.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 319px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY-6BwQ4k9w56qGNSU8i7O4rUrmfrmevUg7VZ5Afq-8GgVYjyVGQg0pGs0TQg_WmwXGasyxpBt6CHS0ThSXCdJDzzC4y2CcVIi8Iw2wuQoZYUOtiFJZObFQhD1Z71eIF6OmkQ-Ti1Q0_fO/s400/Pink+dogwood.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458891805074640642" /></a><br /></div><div>A few years back, my husband and I planted a white dogwood in our backyard. They are very slow growing trees and we are happy for now to see the few flowers it has to offer on its small frame. I was sure to plant it in an area where I can see it from our kitchen window so I can admire what all it has to offer us though the years.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-14478020355914296352010-01-03T11:05:00.021-05:002010-01-03T22:32:49.091-05:00Sharing the goods with herb wreaths<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. When your garden gives you an abundance of herbs, spilling out of their intended growing spaces, you start to think about projects to make with them. Attempting an herb wreath on this particular warm fall day seemed doable and fun. I had a limited window of time to utilize the offerings of my side garden's bounty with cold weather encroaching upon the growing season and with the crunch of the holidays being right around the corner as well. It was a beautiful day to be in the backyard with my dog, Winston, and seeing what I could concoct with all these herb clippings I had brought there.</span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">I had to move and move fast to make what I was thinking was a great use of something that I had plenty of. Waste not, want not. I couldn't let something that I so loved cooking with in the spring and summer, wither away in the winter months. I consider it a true luxury to be able to dart out of my kitchen while preparing a meal to my side garden to pinch off some basil, lemon thyme, rosemary or sage to complement a meal or wash it down with tea flavored with mint. The aroma of these simple plants are just so great. In the fall, I gather these herbs in bunches and tie them up to dry in my kitchen and later store in air tight containers. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">On this particular day, I got to thinking that I had all the materials needed at the house, including the vine from my concord grapes that I would use as the base. This vine grows like crazy and I pretty much bonsai the thing back to keep it in control along our backyard fence. It provides privacy and lots of grapes for the birds. We get some of the fruit, but it is hard to fight the inevitable forces of nature and its creatures. I use some of the pliable, clipped vines for various things around the garden like trellising, but most are bagged and carried away to the dump.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Lucida Grande', serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:11px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigktMSxVNNdPLNHQ7IARrKXrVScRKlunqLZOhMZdATniNpfZxlClZhLYGY1iHBoRcjaNC4vhguyCI_cMoHLzvbWYn4EZWRJ-jBKc7t3jqmuctj-hUMUg_e1iovaMqGtuxQvuzfncB90Oko/s1600-h/Thyme.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigktMSxVNNdPLNHQ7IARrKXrVScRKlunqLZOhMZdATniNpfZxlClZhLYGY1iHBoRcjaNC4vhguyCI_cMoHLzvbWYn4EZWRJ-jBKc7t3jqmuctj-hUMUg_e1iovaMqGtuxQvuzfncB90Oko/s400/Thyme.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422565382869038386" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><i>Lemon thyme</i></span></span></div></span></span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9BmgeS09meWCw-AzBajQ3pLbSgJIbvz4cCTgjqm7Vy_WbwHmgFXoedB4lAWA7Kkh9VGYxpOAfu6dSHTt-4o9Pkj4thoDDCuvFPPpJQGbczRwS5H9SQU6Lpcdb7h6G9rk-b4qas6j3hWoo/s1600-h/Rosemary.jpg"></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9BmgeS09meWCw-AzBajQ3pLbSgJIbvz4cCTgjqm7Vy_WbwHmgFXoedB4lAWA7Kkh9VGYxpOAfu6dSHTt-4o9Pkj4thoDDCuvFPPpJQGbczRwS5H9SQU6Lpcdb7h6G9rk-b4qas6j3hWoo/s1600-h/Rosemary.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9BmgeS09meWCw-AzBajQ3pLbSgJIbvz4cCTgjqm7Vy_WbwHmgFXoedB4lAWA7Kkh9VGYxpOAfu6dSHTt-4o9Pkj4thoDDCuvFPPpJQGbczRwS5H9SQU6Lpcdb7h6G9rk-b4qas6j3hWoo/s400/Rosemary.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422566480345384610" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'times new roman', serif;font-size:large;">Rosemary</span></i></div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRqiOAkbpz4LIlDmnXG5NhXAbOcAxCs04cxkG-TvLgEUmIZVIpVVXYS56KRlzGGy6Fd6MzVMEHjRkwhYXRDE5kGz39_7OIo3KUZzxsbkKczOWhTeUoYV4njB3sPdTifQLSN8_otXGnwoj5/s1600-h/Sage.jpg"></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRqiOAkbpz4LIlDmnXG5NhXAbOcAxCs04cxkG-TvLgEUmIZVIpVVXYS56KRlzGGy6Fd6MzVMEHjRkwhYXRDE5kGz39_7OIo3KUZzxsbkKczOWhTeUoYV4njB3sPdTifQLSN8_otXGnwoj5/s1600-h/Sage.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRqiOAkbpz4LIlDmnXG5NhXAbOcAxCs04cxkG-TvLgEUmIZVIpVVXYS56KRlzGGy6Fd6MzVMEHjRkwhYXRDE5kGz39_7OIo3KUZzxsbkKczOWhTeUoYV4njB3sPdTifQLSN8_otXGnwoj5/s400/Sage.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422566799778213394" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'times new roman', serif;font-size:large;">Sage</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:medium;">So, with all my needed supplies laying before me on my patio table, I started assembling this project. First matter at hand was to tie with wire some thyme which would be the filler of the wreath. The other herbs would be tucked in at various places.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04B7HPfOjtfKI9l9kZ6pPXwLKDCetN9b28JNeP28fsJ778PfMKNPYuFmfdxHVab4mk-5JWB_vpT982lAAf5SARu7fhGX_GxXr0lOEc-3sKs1dIdZvbuURH5mH1SAmqOm038lnYOSoGhEe/s1600-h/Materials.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 339px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04B7HPfOjtfKI9l9kZ6pPXwLKDCetN9b28JNeP28fsJ778PfMKNPYuFmfdxHVab4mk-5JWB_vpT982lAAf5SARu7fhGX_GxXr0lOEc-3sKs1dIdZvbuURH5mH1SAmqOm038lnYOSoGhEe/s400/Materials.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422573045895798898" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:large;">Garden clippers, needle-nose pliers and wire help pull this project together</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqBHQM-tjG0ycn_Dfq5LTVY1pwonhcAcdjQskXTR74t0z1my5sHzL9zVc4kPU94SW-FQRrUYJOhFm3TnGvi-ev9rV9VYFi66Uv0xumFKwUZkg6bjNhW85WNBMAK9W5iSNWaO6vW1LS8S_/s1600-h/Tie.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqBHQM-tjG0ycn_Dfq5LTVY1pwonhcAcdjQskXTR74t0z1my5sHzL9zVc4kPU94SW-FQRrUYJOhFm3TnGvi-ev9rV9VYFi66Uv0xumFKwUZkg6bjNhW85WNBMAK9W5iSNWaO6vW1LS8S_/s400/Tie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422573719655215986" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:large;">A bunch of thyme is tied to the base</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">.</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">After getting the thyme situated around the base, I then basically tied in bunches of sage and rosemary in areas that complimented the overall look and balance of the wreath. The effort is pretty simple and doesn't take long to have a full wreath after pulling and pushing the herbs into their appropriate spots.</span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In time, I had two of these completed which I ended up sending down South to my Mom and sister. They both are wonderful cooks and I knew that they would get a kick out of receiving one of these without any notice they were headed their way. It was about to be a busy time for both of them for holiday cooking afterall. Upon opening the box when it arrived in Birmingham, my mother said the smell of the herbs in the box was out of this world as you can imagine.</span></span></i></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiON1c0yHdImCHEpGBtI5cDxLIj0gI2ywxTFdEVgnquWdOwrwq8dGgfZYqS_E1Os4_Cf21pJ_orcVGJzoIaOtFoICzs-BHwmAzFAFlFj08SaCBLTioqcqxpTf5JrGi27OX3t1DJrU8eklVl/s1600-h/Wreath.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 333px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiON1c0yHdImCHEpGBtI5cDxLIj0gI2ywxTFdEVgnquWdOwrwq8dGgfZYqS_E1Os4_Cf21pJ_orcVGJzoIaOtFoICzs-BHwmAzFAFlFj08SaCBLTioqcqxpTf5JrGi27OX3t1DJrU8eklVl/s400/Wreath.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422575870799970658" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: pre-wrap;font-size:large;"><i>The completed herb wreath ready for drying.</i></span></span></div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-75835566263579634972009-11-01T08:56:00.009-05:002009-11-08T10:42:33.879-05:00A blast of color<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdSvaJPbP74ITaXzB4-7G9cFAjfv65PO3vwpMRWW04aHs-CTUEXzzfXr_bOB3uv4RRmJDyq1GK2XKKqp7J3xQgFWa2Co7QKTc9ql1e4XTCTqY5UPILKAO3hyNRfZyJyiyipFO1mwRA3bJ/s1600-h/Blooms.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 365px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdSvaJPbP74ITaXzB4-7G9cFAjfv65PO3vwpMRWW04aHs-CTUEXzzfXr_bOB3uv4RRmJDyq1GK2XKKqp7J3xQgFWa2Co7QKTc9ql1e4XTCTqY5UPILKAO3hyNRfZyJyiyipFO1mwRA3bJ/s400/Blooms.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399151843657981090" /></a><div>I did something a little unusual for me this past gardening season. Some would call it being lazy, others though might say that it was thrifty. Then, there are those who would say that what I didn't do was really showing some gardening heart.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last fall I put out about 10 rather small mum plants, dividing them equally for the beds on the side entrances to the front of the house. They looked great and exhibited a blast of color that only a grouping of these plants can offer. I guess there are other plants that can scream color like these, but in the fall you turn to mums to get you through the last months of outdoor planting.</div><div><br /></div><div>When it came time for the usual clean-up before spring rebirth in the yard, I noticed that these hardy plants were already budding new growth in my beds that are usually rotated with plantings spring, summer and fall. Well, I just didn't have it in me to pull these viable plants up by the roots and chunk them in the waste heap. They we thriving after all, having survived the harsh Jersey winter months.</div><div><br /></div><div>So they lingered in the yard through spring and summer. I say lingered because their real show of purpose wouldn't come until at least six months down the road in the fall. Over summer they benefitted from rich soil and mulch, full sun and record rainfall. They grew and grew into rather big, deep green, ball-like shapes that added a rather sculptural sight to the yard – but no flowering or usual colors that I traditionally dedicate there. So the scene was green well into late summer. Panning from left to right, you'd see a collection of large green mums, mature azaleas of matching green tones and then another collection of large green mums of my rather symmetrical gardening layout.</div><div><br /></div><div>Come October, the show was on. It was as if they were telling me all along, "Wait – you'll see." The months long anticipation was worth the delay for something I had that obviously was too enormous to have been bought off the lot of the local hardware store. The orange coloring was perfect for the month and as you turned onto my street, the blast of color in the yard could be seen from quite a distance. It wasn't something a passerbyer could possibly ignore. It was like - how can you not hear fireworks or notice what the product has to offer like its grand spray of boldness.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdrN5dur2MjIk-SDnK81BFc1PvziMg2KrkbbsUHYVerZ16w3vyJvqpiZWDw_9mN6g16t4-uG6PFFitNw-RASeWCrufDJd0nEtYViuqsgVqJd5mF19qrIjVEnSKbBllk08Kxz8puIWPrtx5/s1600-h/Mums.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdrN5dur2MjIk-SDnK81BFc1PvziMg2KrkbbsUHYVerZ16w3vyJvqpiZWDw_9mN6g16t4-uG6PFFitNw-RASeWCrufDJd0nEtYViuqsgVqJd5mF19qrIjVEnSKbBllk08Kxz8puIWPrtx5/s400/Mums.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399148586367427042" /></a></div><div>The show is almost over now. It was, as it turned out, a limited engagement. The heft of all the blooms weighed down the plant. The color is fading as is the sunlight that fueled its magnificent run out front. I will be pulling these up soon and getting back into the routine of rotating the area with seasonal annuals with limited time in these beds.</div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-61244082452602941042009-08-23T11:10:00.005-04:002009-08-23T12:20:03.270-04:00What to do?Everyone knows that I am an animal lover. Singer Karen Carpenter shares my feelings with the melodic line "Bless the beasts and the children ... in this world they have no voice ... they have no choice." <div><br /></div><div>Well, Steve (another animal lover) and I had no choice but to tackle an outdoor problem with what we suspected was a rat den next to my garden. We have seen a couple of rats in our backyard, feeding from the bird feeder and my compost pile which is ripe with rotting vegetable scraps. I thought it was kind of cute one early morning, seeing the calico colored beast jumping from the small bird bath to the large bird bath before hitting the mother lode of the bulging bird feeder. I remember telling Steve who was upstairs to "quick look out the back window at the bird feeder" thinking he would share my sentiments of the cute romp around the feeding trough. His unexpected reply was, "We need to get rid of that rat feeder!" I guess part of a husband's role in this life is to snap his gleeful wife back into a healthy reality. Darn it! I am establishing this scene because I recently shelled out about $700 of repairs to my car after finding out that vermin had been living under the hood of my car in the winter months, leaving behind spent bird food castings and apparently flossing afterwards on the thin electrical wiring that is needed to keep a 2001 Saturn station wagon in peek shape.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, Steve removed the bird feeder which was really only half of the problem. It is summer after all and I have lots of compostable material for the rotting heap. Most of it comes from my recession garden on the side of the yard by the driveway (out of Winston's reach – I have seen Winston, our yellow lab, pull a green pepper off the plant and devour it). </div><div><br /></div><div>Recently, before leaving for work in the mornings, I started seeing the making of a small hole next to the basil and green bean plants. I didn't think anything about it until it got to the point where something was moving straw from the garden to cover the now rather large opening and then the sight of the "do not disturb" sign was a dead give away that something was taking advantage of a good situation and thumbing their long whiskered noses at us. The nerve of some varmints!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCw5lW3nGTF3VDEUIif3FIiEGHOgZvau4zT8QspoNn3bg3OKEP2aaK0zLzAX9JedCsV09ndPCAXHjo5owAXNnVmhi0kGenvwCHhyphenhyphenT_QmztMCF1mIvMEE6L7R9WoYcUtGXrctSyH_TvWxm/s1600-h/Mice.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCw5lW3nGTF3VDEUIif3FIiEGHOgZvau4zT8QspoNn3bg3OKEP2aaK0zLzAX9JedCsV09ndPCAXHjo5owAXNnVmhi0kGenvwCHhyphenhyphenT_QmztMCF1mIvMEE6L7R9WoYcUtGXrctSyH_TvWxm/s400/Mice.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373190164990549522" /></a><br /></div><div>So, what is an animal lover to do? We thought about trapping the thing and releasing it at a nearby nature preserve or hope that one of the cats that roam the neighborhood would take care of the situation, leaving us with a clear conscious. Steve stepped up and said that we should just get some rat poison and be done with it. Images of Templeton from "Charlotte's Web" popped in my mind. Couldn't we just have an outdoor pet rat? Then I thought about the assault my car had withstood and it was pretty much decided what we had to do. The image of Templeton was quickly replaced with an open purse with the wind carrying away my hard earned dollar bills from what can be a stressful job. Lots of dollar bills. The sequence of the cash fluttering away seemed to go on for a very long time before I snapped out of the vision.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I write this, one gray mouse has been buried and another is still taking the bait Steve is leaving at the entrance of the hole. An ugly ending for two big hearted animal lovers who would rather be putting their money toward the good life instead of the nearest Saturn dealership.</div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-32233183376405648992009-07-19T11:41:00.007-04:002009-07-19T12:23:34.052-04:00Preventing weedsYesterday was electronics recycling day at the Maplewood Recycling Center. Whenever there is mention of a trip to the center, my gardening instincts kick in and I think about the piles of free compost and mulch the city offers for those who can haul it away. And haul it away they do – by the truck loads. <div><br /></div><div>Before heading out, Steve packed our old Mac computer screen, hard drive and keyboard into the back of the Saturn station wagon. Keep in mind that the earlier models of Macs can take up lots of car space and I was thinking about how I may be limited in the amount of "black gold" I can bring back. Darn it! I was able to get in two rather big muck tubs so I was happy and already thinking about my morning and spreading the organic stuff.</div><div><br /></div><div>So while Steve took care of getting a tax write-off for our old computer at the center, I was shoveling the brownish-black mulch which is a mix of composted dirt, partially decayed tree bark and leaves and other matter rich in nutrients. I will use this on my side flower bed to thwart weed growth and maintain some moisture for my daylillies, irises, alysum and other plants that get lots of sun. Without some sort of ground cover, crabgrass takes over! The look of the dark mixture is just right against the green and white colors in the area. So nice!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg12cv-vs2Py9vQyqdy6asm4Re7HhLNd0aXtrR_kZpHyIat3eZEdf_5a-H6VjVKhBL2s-H4WUZ0I9oGF2-zmOMhWmOsuofO04c58KJSAQ0j9gvg5IQS9XLM028xRYkJTXQoX6ASzFQpcf2Q/s1600-h/Compost.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg12cv-vs2Py9vQyqdy6asm4Re7HhLNd0aXtrR_kZpHyIat3eZEdf_5a-H6VjVKhBL2s-H4WUZ0I9oGF2-zmOMhWmOsuofO04c58KJSAQ0j9gvg5IQS9XLM028xRYkJTXQoX6ASzFQpcf2Q/s400/Compost.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360202651280632802" /></a><br /></div><div>Another weed preventer I use is marsh straw. This ground cover is sold in bales like pine straw is in the South. Pine straw is really difficult to find up here which is unfortunate. I love the beautiful orange-brown color of recently fallen straw or even the darker brown tones found baled in stores or sold from trucks on roadsides. I remember buying pine straw in Birmingham for les than $2 a bale. This marsh grass is sold at a rather pricey nursery in town for $16 a bale! I cringe admitting that I pay that much for this but you do get a lot of it and I usually have some left over after the growing season. It is a nice compliment to my vegetable garden and I like the fluffed-up look of it around my green beans and cucumbers. Most importantly, it prevents weeds and saves me lots of time working in the garden.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKSZnTZ5Ys7jcCqHf0tihLhNiZf8eFUGA8UYQpH7rGs1bANoMY_bsoNfPLIEAxqIVx079z3qbB9Yv1X5Sguvq8GA9fP_D7ou92GagN7bLvIIjnpg98Ntz3K9ngghmmL7lAteLVoEwohwl-/s1600-h/Straw.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKSZnTZ5Ys7jcCqHf0tihLhNiZf8eFUGA8UYQpH7rGs1bANoMY_bsoNfPLIEAxqIVx079z3qbB9Yv1X5Sguvq8GA9fP_D7ou92GagN7bLvIIjnpg98Ntz3K9ngghmmL7lAteLVoEwohwl-/s400/Straw.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360203029992973426" /></a><br /></div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-78413162035675977912009-04-12T16:25:00.010-04:002009-04-12T16:57:56.562-04:00My new gardening toyI have been wanting one of these for years. A rain collection devise that will prevent unwanted water from draining into a low area of our backyard and will also provide water for my hydrangeas and other plants in the far reaches back there. I feel as though I am killing two birds with one stone. When we had our garage roof and new gutters put on about four years ago the guys put the downspout on the back which allows water to drain into what has become a persistently wet area. Had the guys placed the downspout in the front of the garage, the water would have most likely drained down the driveway away into the city sewer system. I'm sure they had their reasoning for doing what they did. However, I can't wait to see if my new rain barrel which holds 50 gallons of water will help prevent the usually muddy area turn into a drier area. I am also pretty excited about having a water source in the back and not having to lug the hose back there during dry times.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_nQDSUtAsQkus_1UugzwCPMkaVyi82KKfTY9t6YN0ALZLsiFSXmwLWF-nUbwRoxZ9U-Ba1TmDy3pmfrzGODk2traejQf8uP9GV5NMEQMpot6tLLlr9OPVeXt7KcPLI5cvi4tRXnL-Sy-/s1600-h/Rain+barrel.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_nQDSUtAsQkus_1UugzwCPMkaVyi82KKfTY9t6YN0ALZLsiFSXmwLWF-nUbwRoxZ9U-Ba1TmDy3pmfrzGODk2traejQf8uP9GV5NMEQMpot6tLLlr9OPVeXt7KcPLI5cvi4tRXnL-Sy-/s400/Rain+barrel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323907618873923842" /></a><div>I considered getting one of the more typical rain barrels but decided on the terra cotta look which actually has a pot area on top that I plan on planting some shade loving plants in. This model seems a bit more attractive than the alternative industrial look. It is currently more than half full after the steady morning and afternoon rain from yesterday. When full, there is a small drain at the top back for overflow.</div><div><br />I can't wait to use this. I routinely do lots of watering during the spring and summer months and I am hoping this saves me a little bit of money and lots of frustration!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM0NB1-3xUIGe1Y_z3stsnCM1IJ5Vunc8aiDojh2IZcgYJgWl1C8pDfyrUxUt_g0xSUpEk94xWf2gMV0avRfXTUJSR1KL3IwtY6bVqDBU4eQwj5YdI9dmeeXYwflkt3BhZj9kLLn_flwhE/s1600-h/Detail.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM0NB1-3xUIGe1Y_z3stsnCM1IJ5Vunc8aiDojh2IZcgYJgWl1C8pDfyrUxUt_g0xSUpEk94xWf2gMV0avRfXTUJSR1KL3IwtY6bVqDBU4eQwj5YdI9dmeeXYwflkt3BhZj9kLLn_flwhE/s400/Detail.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323907789143964162" /></a></div></div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-67511745362745464462009-03-26T20:29:00.007-04:002009-03-26T21:08:43.041-04:00Spring gardeningWhen I lived in Birmingham, I couldn't wait until February because I knew this was the month to get out in my rather large garden and start turning the soil. I had read that potatoes were OK to plant then and plant I did for several years with good returns. The rest of the spring garden would have to wait until after Good Friday or the middle of April when the last threat of frost had past.<div><br /></div><div>Now that I am living in New Jersey, I usually have to wait about a month longer to get outside and get my taters in. We had some beautiful weather last weekend and I couldn't resist whipping the garden into shape, getting out there Saturday afternoon. It actually whipped me and am rather glad that I have a small plot to hoe these days. I planted a single row of red potatoes and will have to wait for the plants to emerge and and their tops to flower before digging into the soil with my gardening pitchfork to see what has materialized underneath. Planting them is easy and I used store bought potatoes, cutting them into fourths, making sure each section has an eye where it will sprout roots and several potatoes.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0khLu2mUDAMCiJMHNFBtPQsbbIu6nHvnTxPAEvnydi_VRMpeVRvRK6fRydsCEh77KvfrnjPpgY__B4AWHSQGdlTuydAPjMQABCu8hCcqACMvQXaxiAs4BbvP7YhRGNKvaFZIL_BqKWEna/s1600-h/Potatoes.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0khLu2mUDAMCiJMHNFBtPQsbbIu6nHvnTxPAEvnydi_VRMpeVRvRK6fRydsCEh77KvfrnjPpgY__B4AWHSQGdlTuydAPjMQABCu8hCcqACMvQXaxiAs4BbvP7YhRGNKvaFZIL_BqKWEna/s400/Potatoes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317662936484815346" /></a></div><div>I expanded my "recession" garden to just a bit larger than last year. Apparently from what I have read, I am following a national trend. It is, I'd say, about seven feet by 10 feet and is by the coal shoot of the house. Whenever I am digging in this space I always find small chunks of coal. They are easy to spot because its surface shines in the sun unlike other rocks. I have quite the collection of coal now that I save, clean and place in a container in the kitchen which holds my potted African violets. I can't imagine living in a time when house furnaces burned coal and how dirty the air must have been, especially in a tightly housed community like ours. I wonder if the air was dimmed with the soot.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, I am finally writing about gardening on this gardening blog. Tis the season, finally!</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu6VWWpzVtwX-2NlvUelT6oegom1AW_fIQCQQl-BcTRji-xkF-AGVpGhtSNhLk8dpDhxJ67oPBEzYdH7Y1WdQIa3PL92oJPjhimx5hnMMtU7b-V-VAYJ3k2BKZjPwWxUBOppUgCKG-PT22/s1600-h/Coal.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu6VWWpzVtwX-2NlvUelT6oegom1AW_fIQCQQl-BcTRji-xkF-AGVpGhtSNhLk8dpDhxJ67oPBEzYdH7Y1WdQIa3PL92oJPjhimx5hnMMtU7b-V-VAYJ3k2BKZjPwWxUBOppUgCKG-PT22/s400/Coal.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317663748474305250" /></a>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-69612279271129111272009-03-18T20:16:00.010-04:002009-03-18T21:43:26.624-04:00Beth in New York City<div>My niece Beth was up this week visiting the city with the rest of the Pelham High School Marching Band. Steve and I were thrilled to be able to spend some time with her early Sunday morning. It isn't often that we have family up! We met the group at Rockerfeller Plaza and just walked around, checking out the sights like NBC's Corner of the World, St. Patrick's Cathedral and Radio City Music Hall. They all seemed to be having a good time on their first day in Manhattan.</div><div><br /></div><div>As most of you know, Pelham's "Tower of Power" Marching Band did Alabama proud in the city's annual St. Patrick's Day Parade. They got special recognition on the local NBC broadcast – a really shining example of all of their work over the year.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's a video of the group stopping for some photos before moving on to the next block: </div><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyT0XXHXKmeuKYmbVnfpspOHtWWB2joHbt1eJApOzeAASFI6OU5_UoHpUhLakyt9jMYVn289fBlP11EuWIfXQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-78023409683637924112009-03-08T11:24:00.010-04:002009-03-08T12:22:27.393-04:00Volunteering at the shelterLast week while spending some time at the Maplewood/South Orange animal shelter, I was bitten while taking a cute cocker spaniel mix on a walk. The bite required a trip to the emergency room and four stitches. The event was a real eye-opener (in more ways than one) and made me realized that you can't assume that a dog doesn't have a past and no matter to what degree you consider yourself a "dog whisperer," unpredictable behavior is just a second away. <div><br /></div><div>Going into work with a brace and ace bandage contraption around my thumb and wrist brought on lots of questions about what could have possibly happened to me. The general reply I would give is, "I was petting a dog at the animal shelter I volunteer at with my left hand and it turned around and bit me on my right. I didn't know this, but apparently this dog had been abused before coming to the shelter. Sad – huh?" Then I would get the reply, "Oh my gosh! Do you have your rabies shot?" Then I would hesitate and say, "Yes, I had a TETANUS shot about a year ago." So funny! </div><div><br /></div><div>The other question I got a few times was if I would go back to volunteer. My reply to that one was "Of course." There is such a need at this no-kill shelter and I am so glad to be a part of it. I joined in Jan. 2008 and have found that whatever you can contribute, they will accept gladly. So I walk the dogs, clean cages (sometimes), buy supplies like dog collars, cat litter, and poop bags and donate our New York Times in bundles. Steve and I have gone to the shelter occasionally which is only five minutes away from our house to cut grass, pull weeds and sweep the parking lot. Steve loves spotting the ferrel cats that mingle in the woods surrounding the shelter and I often have to tell him to stay on task of the yard work! The shelter feeds these cuties and offers outside housing from the cold. Once Steve and I were picking up trash along the street and hurling huge limbs further back into the woods and saw four deer admiring our work. Ahhhh, nature! Anyways, the shelter has its hands full with its limited paid staff and I truly feel like what I do is a community service and is so rewarding. I also get to play with lots of cute dogs, puppies, cats and kittens. Four stitches in just a year's time I think is a pretty good average. Have a look for yourself (click photo for a larger view):</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLbzBaCTi4SUOqm9OqWHMt1Ilof9jAIrBv81mlvIyCmHKO8gcUsXLEYKXX_L7Km6_KeyC9F9NOkDpNJ7650hMVNYjI6EdhYIClqOdQ52KvQ9v3V9-s38_YPqO2rb1roBurq-Eg2fYJ1vM_/s1600-h/Shelter+dogs2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 144px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLbzBaCTi4SUOqm9OqWHMt1Ilof9jAIrBv81mlvIyCmHKO8gcUsXLEYKXX_L7Km6_KeyC9F9NOkDpNJ7650hMVNYjI6EdhYIClqOdQ52KvQ9v3V9-s38_YPqO2rb1roBurq-Eg2fYJ1vM_/s400/Shelter+dogs2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310848044209213122" /></a><br /></div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-30508429777567683712009-02-16T14:08:00.005-05:002009-02-16T15:20:14.704-05:00A blast from the pastI was going through some files today on my thumb drive and found this. Apologies for the visual quality, but I hope the great memories make up for it. Enjoy!<div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzkJVaurLvC0RzokaANQfK6e2Quv1_HeIX6QsVIEJcV-Lp4hiYcxtKKwxn5hsqZhZthaJyInAXr2gRP-6FJog' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-31349448492361106212009-02-09T22:17:00.007-05:002009-02-09T22:38:45.621-05:00Tag — Your it!I got an e-mail from my sister Amy the other day telling me that I've been selected to participate in a photo tagging game/challenge. What you are suppose to do is go to your picture folder and open the fourth subfolder and then pick the fourth picture and post it on your blog. <div><br /></div><div>So, here ya go:</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH5tVyJfkKifUNViKhPz3iSCx79EEshv9R_6s0oB3QbAMUdxoH5lCsgO20gN-e3ckcMnBom9z-CNm_7jM6Au314li7dlybusdMnhze7M0aWiruO4VWlEPx2fhhEJ3Cn5_wCm7rZLjGffng/s1600-h/Ali+and+Patrick.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH5tVyJfkKifUNViKhPz3iSCx79EEshv9R_6s0oB3QbAMUdxoH5lCsgO20gN-e3ckcMnBom9z-CNm_7jM6Au314li7dlybusdMnhze7M0aWiruO4VWlEPx2fhhEJ3Cn5_wCm7rZLjGffng/s320/Ali+and+Patrick.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301007920561768482" /></a><br />The photo is of Ali and Patrick from our family Christmas two years ago. We had a great time with each other and Alison is wearing her pink apron that Santa brought her. Patrick was able to hold Scout just long enough for the picture.</div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-74189491235978701172009-01-25T12:25:00.018-05:002009-01-25T13:19:43.425-05:00A morning of quilting<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4LiCpja6BIhJUQ-eNps7b-ahCVmS_0w7VLHjllxy5pTvRzCb-MoNC41WawCMw8rqSqPOp_UWvNsaNje355bPuMGgtx-KgZWqdAOpLDBkQdV6THpTqnahxllLLtnSu5lP3IYAD8AT6TIQ5/s1600-h/Quilt+front+and+back.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4LiCpja6BIhJUQ-eNps7b-ahCVmS_0w7VLHjllxy5pTvRzCb-MoNC41WawCMw8rqSqPOp_UWvNsaNje355bPuMGgtx-KgZWqdAOpLDBkQdV6THpTqnahxllLLtnSu5lP3IYAD8AT6TIQ5/s320/Quilt+front+and+back.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295292222808457890" /></a><br />I am a quilter. The quilting I do is sewn by hand and very time consuming but the end results are priceless as they say. I have finished a couple. The last one, I worked on for five years and it is my pride and joy. It is made of Levi jean denim and muslin and filled with a microfiber. The current quilt I am working on is taking me about the same amount of years to finish. I work off and on on these between other projects I have going around the house. However, I am getting to the point where I can see the thing being done and it does motivate me to work more frequently. After completing the center portion I will have to quilt the border then bind it with some sort of complimentary piping.<div><br /></div><div>This morning I decided to get out my recently cleaned sewing basket and my quilting material which includes a wooden hoop, 100% cotton white thread and embroidery thread. I am actually tieing this quilt top (completed by someone else) and involves using three strands of embroidery thread and a single strand of cotton thread. I bought this quilt top at a yard sale years ago that my boss at the Birmingham Post-Herald was having. He sold it to me for $7! It is very folksy in nature and its colors are rustic hues of red, white and blue.</div><div><br /></div><div>Whenever I am sewing, Scout is usually close by. That was the case this morning. She is so curious as to what I am doing with whatever I pull out of the sewing basket. I've learned that turning my back on her is a cue for her to do something very mischievous. She loves to jump into the sewing basket or plop herself down in the exact spot that I am returning to after threading a needle. I am including evidence of this. I put up with almost two hours of Scout having a field day while I was quilting. It was lots of fun actually.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbkrogSSzxkj9j7Nms3T_HOkcEKjfpexYkVYqboSwxlo0k7U59AD-PwvzqUOjP83cNkrG4D_HVIvgl5hfmI1D7kHzpat0CXY2EMy6O6t-RzkWDQoT6b2fXg6bX9xk_2yqs-gjDI2fMET0Y/s1600-h/Scout+in+hoop.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbkrogSSzxkj9j7Nms3T_HOkcEKjfpexYkVYqboSwxlo0k7U59AD-PwvzqUOjP83cNkrG4D_HVIvgl5hfmI1D7kHzpat0CXY2EMy6O6t-RzkWDQoT6b2fXg6bX9xk_2yqs-gjDI2fMET0Y/s320/Scout+in+hoop.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295292993800295074" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibYHL8_nxpx0SRG1p2Ym4H2KUMGJdb5YueAVT5RgG_T3C5U8D1H0PqMbF1e8HwOYz35HpwIAunZaqcVeshTLBSAnH122bnVrf44c7UsmpsO3gIYecISVsrF8sLMi5xOEEiMlOqBi4SJLBg/s1600-h/Scout+under+quilt+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibYHL8_nxpx0SRG1p2Ym4H2KUMGJdb5YueAVT5RgG_T3C5U8D1H0PqMbF1e8HwOYz35HpwIAunZaqcVeshTLBSAnH122bnVrf44c7UsmpsO3gIYecISVsrF8sLMi5xOEEiMlOqBi4SJLBg/s320/Scout+under+quilt+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295294463909382706" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz_UGn6GP1f9PMmf4r8AVVUGCKbxOFGICcnUw-eHjzunSnnwxDTGygshkASD30fwk7WQrkDXGVC_xLPWGk0gOiggrbQH7aQ19e8RBzgR8yrreGaJIUe2_iD-qWYKW86FekltXZptg7Rxsi/s1600-h/Scout+under+quilt.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz_UGn6GP1f9PMmf4r8AVVUGCKbxOFGICcnUw-eHjzunSnnwxDTGygshkASD30fwk7WQrkDXGVC_xLPWGk0gOiggrbQH7aQ19e8RBzgR8yrreGaJIUe2_iD-qWYKW86FekltXZptg7Rxsi/s320/Scout+under+quilt.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295295904224596162" /></a><br /><br /></div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-64249531509012458842008-12-27T17:53:00.004-05:002008-12-27T18:35:18.325-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzISe_qb4crzL_RpgD3usJoicg5lZkpVcG7pwBdD3MMcHGMNeomEOkunopj4dcVTGBf22OSXCI7GsNl5bFEE2Ir6CYeNBWPB7DQFE6oM2N19NlrQ-jdleUsGm7_YyJSTaBjrOI_4yMKkNs/s1600-h/MC.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 77px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzISe_qb4crzL_RpgD3usJoicg5lZkpVcG7pwBdD3MMcHGMNeomEOkunopj4dcVTGBf22OSXCI7GsNl5bFEE2Ir6CYeNBWPB7DQFE6oM2N19NlrQ-jdleUsGm7_YyJSTaBjrOI_4yMKkNs/s400/MC.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284608059169667570" /></a><br /><div>I am back from visiting with family in Birmingham over the holiday and have to say we had a wonderful time in the shorter than expected visit. Ali and Steve were there and we were able to talk with Patrick from his base in Basra. Even BB got to speak to him which she loved! Steve said the Army Captain seemed to be in good spirits under the circumstances.</div><div><br /></div><div>When we arrived back at Maplewood, we had five days of mail that was delivered earlier that day to our doorstep to sort through. We were surprised to see that our contractor/friend Marek had dropped of a collection of Polish sausages, pierogies and a huge cheese danish! Most of the Christmas cards we received with this delivery had family letters in them with updates of events of their lives through this year. I really like these and might have to crank one out next year. I just love a good story of the human spirit. Each letter spoke of trying times and small and large victories their families went through. Layoffs, a death in the family, a new work position and a rare medical condition were all mentioned in these. One closed with hope that the coming year would be brighter. Knowing this family and their spirit, I am certain it will be.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have lots of photos to tone and upload to the computer in the coming days. They capture the general feeling of the joyfulness and glee of a family gathering at Christmas. It is reassuring to me to have this feeling. The contentment of knowing that we are here for each other, to share our experiences and to ride out this wild life together. Forget about the gifts — this is what I want most at Christmas, at least at this point in time!</div><div><br /></div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5452380741056553666.post-84479451853546954952008-08-16T17:50:00.014-04:002008-09-11T22:40:54.592-04:00On assignment in New Orleans<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg2wYLNQ_4LP78VqPwJ7jZtmSnuRfwDHzn6r6ZZqRKieUxEHjqcoVbuGnnbniapj297PlbzRvmk6xqlA7RU1F0OQpcddSPVYx3VgpjC6UDrDCtoMSjxegc6OaB60CPVt8U_oYWUbiKwc-t/s1600-h/New+Orleans+Jesus.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg2wYLNQ_4LP78VqPwJ7jZtmSnuRfwDHzn6r6ZZqRKieUxEHjqcoVbuGnnbniapj297PlbzRvmk6xqlA7RU1F0OQpcddSPVYx3VgpjC6UDrDCtoMSjxegc6OaB60CPVt8U_oYWUbiKwc-t/s400/New+Orleans+Jesus.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244944928336319186" /></a><br /><div>The last day I was in New Orleans I took some pictures while on my way back to the house I was staying at off of St. Charles Street. The house had no electricity and I needed to e-mail a couple of graphics into work I had completed the night before. So the following morning, I walked about ten blocks with my backpack and laptop computer to a coffee house that was one of the few places that had electricity from a generator. I passed this statue of Christ standing before a huge magnolia tree at a Catholic agency. Like the city, the statue’s broken parts are easily detected, but still adored by most.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwN7Rn00OohbmAzYnr2Q-Ms7UJdSS_ybi7UMcvWfzH_dO9mu4h9pod54kbJotN0BZSIlfhQUjXT1XdFx-D5fUyyu2LO_XBtvvdHKxRRPzL2IuWwPl5Jfbnl5p4ySRwdYv0hY-g0IT6fqo/s1600-h/New+Orleans+house.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwN7Rn00OohbmAzYnr2Q-Ms7UJdSS_ybi7UMcvWfzH_dO9mu4h9pod54kbJotN0BZSIlfhQUjXT1XdFx-D5fUyyu2LO_XBtvvdHKxRRPzL2IuWwPl5Jfbnl5p4ySRwdYv0hY-g0IT6fqo/s400/New+Orleans+house.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244944933822794770" /></a><br /></div><div>Just a beautiful old house with the typical wrought iron fencing and palm trees. I love the unique details like the unusual windows and brackets below the roof and the lone window jutting from the top of this classic Big Easy home. There were so many homes that had so much character and history to them. I wish I could have toured some of the interiors to see the craftsmanship.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii3cz7QeLFf0cU355UafXmrMQeVoD0jTjDHuIPgre5xiPu9OTOzMpss7fcp6RFeQimXLVv4ODFTUDza0d7DJOQRTUpdrTN6UuCTsVw3Q6SgFguyzICD8U22IaVv6M0aU7GM-i-8pIB7nyO/s1600-h/Hammond+house.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii3cz7QeLFf0cU355UafXmrMQeVoD0jTjDHuIPgre5xiPu9OTOzMpss7fcp6RFeQimXLVv4ODFTUDza0d7DJOQRTUpdrTN6UuCTsVw3Q6SgFguyzICD8U22IaVv6M0aU7GM-i-8pIB7nyO/s400/Hammond+house.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244944932002599826" /></a><br />This is the bed and breakfast I stayed at for two nights in Hammond – on a good day usually and hour and a half drive from New Orleans. During a hurricane evacuation late at night it can take you over three hours! The owners there, Michele and Isabel, treated me like family along with their two daughters, one of which was married and had a young son and daughter hunkering down at the place until Hurricane Gustav moved on northwest. Wonderful food, stories and critters (frogs, lizards and a kitten) were enjoyed after working at the Hammond Daily Star newspaper with about ten other hot and bothered AP employees. A few copy editors enjoyed the stay at the B&B as well.<div><div><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"></span></span></div></div></div>Jane Bellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01910211443920979835noreply@blogger.com6