Suggest-a-Blog Thursday!

Okay, I made that up*, but I do have a blog I'd like to suggest you peruse:

MWF Seeking BFF

That stands for "Married White Female Seeking Best Friend Forever," and it's by a lovely young woman named Rachel, who moved to Chicago with her husband, leaving best girlfriends behind:

"I have two lifelong BFFs, Sara and Callie, who I met when I was 10 and 14, at camp and high school respectively. I have seven super-close friends from college. I have dear pals from high school whose weddings I’d never miss and babies I’m dying to meet. There is no shortage of shoulders to cry on. Here’s the catch: I live in Chicago. Sara and Callie live in New York City. My Northwestern roommates live in Boston, San Francisco, New York, and St. Louis. The high schoolers are in D.C. and Manhattan. My closest friends are everywhere but here. "

Her blog is about the active effort to find "Miss Right" -- a real, true girlfriend. Not a coworker with whom you might do Happy Hour every once and a while, not the perfectly nice wife of your husband's friend, but a real girlfriend. Someone you could call up on Saturday morning and say, "Let's get a pedi!" Rachel not only shares research on friendship, but also her adventures in finding potential friends - through readings at book stores, casual conversations in line at the bank, and other funny (and sometimes awkward) experiences.

After dating Kyle "long distance" for three years, spending every spare social moment here in Gainesville, and then finally moving here two years ago, I finally feel like I have my own friends. Yes, I met them as girlfriends of Kyle's friends OR via a girlfriend of one of Kyle's friends, but I finally feel like I can meet up with them without Kyle or their boyfriend/husbands; I even (sometimes) have plans of my own that have nothing to do with Kyle.

Not that I don't love spending time with my husband, or spending time with him and "our" friends, but I think it's important, nay, crucial to a marriage that a sense of individuality be maintained. I don't think it's fair to expect Kyle to be everything to me: husband, lover, friend, sole freaking source of entertainment. I think that's quite a burden. And if you lose your individual personality, you lose some of that person that your spouse fell in love with in the first place.

So I know how Rachel feels, moving away from your girlfriends and feeling that void. And she's a hell of a lot more proactive about finding friends than I was; I'm enjoying her adventures and her writing. Even if you feel like you've got all the friends you'll ever need, I think you might enjoy her blog as well -- it's really about that very important thing: adult female friendships.

(*If I thought I could do anything on a weekly basis, I would suggest a blog on Thursday, though...)

Photo time! Our first gerbera daisies of the year:

Breathe deeply, forget those jerks

Listening to the radio this morning, I got so angry that I was shouting and swearing. NPR was reporting on Newt Gingrich talking at the Southern Republican Leadership Conference this week. Gingrich, besides calling the current administration "the most radical administration in U.S. history," also made some comparison between the Republican party and its imagined rivals. The phrase that got me yelling was, "The Republican party was founded on the work ethic, not the redistribution ethic" (cue applause from audience).

What, exactly, I yelled cannot be printed, not even in "Scurrilous Tosh." Let's just say it would have looked like this:

F*+!K YOU! YOU F$*KING A**H{E!

Something like that.

I get so mad at this rabble-rousing bullshit. I have been working since high school. I've been a (bad) waitress, a secretary, a counter girl at a fasteners store (bolts and screws); I've sold soft serve ice, shoes, Girl Scout cookies; I've been a bank teller, a PR lackey, a low-level press release writer. I've promoted the openings of baby hospitals, I've called strangers to ask them how they feel about particular names of HMO plans. I've been a secret shopper, I've sold high-end bar stools, I've even stood for eight hours at a time, extolling the virtues of space-age material in pool cues.

I've worked. All my damn life. AND I'M A DEMOCRAT! And because I don't have an inheritance coming, nor a family business to take over, I will probably work for the rest of my damn life. AND I'LL STILL BE A DEMOCRAT! How dare you! RWARRR!!!!

I could go on and on (and get into some flame-throwing match with a total stranger, most likely), but I won't. My point is, I was fired up. I'm serious: SCREAMING out loud, in my car, in the office parking lot. At a RADIO. At people who I've never met, and hope not to.

And then I opened my car door.

And the orange blossoms saved me. And my coworkers (from having to deal with a sullen brat).

There are few things as lovely as the scent of orange blossoms washing over you in the morning breeze. I was standing downwind from the university citrus orchards, and the trees have just started blooming in the last few days.

Even now, writing about it, the fragrance washes the angry right out of me. This is why nature is important. It's simpler, and yet bigger, than petty politics. Newt Gingrich doesn't know me. That cheering mob doesn't care about orange blossoms. But the scent of flowers was right there, all around me.

And it's comforting to know that this swirling, nostalgic perfume exists regardless of me, of leadership conferences, of radio broadcasts. Regardless of politics, presidents, parties. The smell of orange blossoms simply IS. It does not need me, but damn if I don't get so much out of it.

I think I'm going to take a break from this computer and go for a walk. Perhaps it sounds silly to you, but I suggest you do the same, while things are growing and blooming. Preferably in the morning, but you know, whenever. I wouldn't be surprised if there's something poisonous curled up in your mind, be it a fight with your spouse or something depressing you read about in the news. But I bet there's something lovely in the air that might wash it away.

At least for a little while.

Hallelujah - It's Spring!

I realize that anyone who lives north of Florida would smack me for this, but seriously - it was an unusually cold winter. No, really! Especially for us native Floridians. We're like strawberries - we can handle a freakishly cold day here and there, but successive cold days might actually kill us.

So it's with a glad and humble heart that I welcome spring. It's been in the 70s for several days, the sky a lovely blue today, and the sun is shining. Best of all, my back yard is once again showing signs of life.

I've misplaced my camera, so I haven't taken as many photographs as I would like to; the iPhone camera has several limitations, most importantly (at least when you're talking tiny green buds), it doesn't have a close-up view.

But I did add two new and neat apps to the iPhone last night: Hipstamatic, which allows you to take photos that look aged, plus other cool effects, and TiltShiftGenerator, which also allows you to fiddle with color saturation, focus, and other photo effects. Both say that the app gives your photos a "toy camera look" - but I have no idea what that means.

Anyway, the azalea bush in the back is going crazy:

Photo taken with the Hipstamatic (John S lens, Kodot Verichrome film, standard flash)

Pretty . . . weed

I was walking across the "lawn" from the parking lot to my office building this morning, and came across this lovely flower:

It's really quite pretty - if you look at the full-sized version of this photo, you'll see that each little blossom resembles a tiny little snapdragon flower.

In reality, this plant is really small. The flower couldn't have been more than an inch tall, if that. And I'm quite sure it's some sort of weed, as it was growing merrily across the grassy strip surrounding the parking lot. Plus, the leaves remind me of another weed found pretty much everywhere in Florida, the dreaded spurge. But I've never seen one with such pretty flowers.

I looked through the book "Weeds of Southern Turfgrasses," pulled from the shelf of my coworker and Master Gardener, Kim. Nothing - no tiny, low-growing weeds with itty-bitty-pretty flowers.

Perhaps someone will recognize it here? Hmm, I'm not sure how many botanists who specialize in Florida landscape weeds read my blog.

A little home-keeping in the midst of wedding madness

I'm going crazy with wedding stuff right now; so busy that I don't even have time to write about myself! (That's pretty busy.)

I did take the time to notice two lovely flowers blooming right now in our front yard, some sort of iris and a sweet orange gerbera daisy:

Pretty, no?

I wish I could take a decent photo that shows the front yard in all its glory. Kyle really keeps it looking fabulous. I'm so lucky. :)

But before I could appreciate the outdoors this morning, I had the displeasure of facing my nemisis:

The hair-clogged tub drain.

One of the down sides of having long hair is that it eventually falls off your head and collects - everywhere. The bathroom is especially plagued with my hair. And the tub drain is no exception.

I've noticed the water taking longer and longer to drain, and this morning I couldn't take it any more. It's my fault, after all.

Thank goodness for my hero Cheryl Mendelson and her book "Home Comforts: The Art & Science of Keeping House." Most of my friends will tell you that I love this book, as I've raved about it in the past. But I can't help it - it's so useful, and written well to boot!

For clearing a slow drain (not a fully stopped-up one), she suggests the following:

1. Start boiling a gallon of water (yes, you'll need a big pot). Get out some baking soda and vinegar.

2.Get as much stuff out of the drain manually as possible. (This is the most disgusting thing ever; I will not go into what hair and soap scum comingle as in a drain.)

3. Pour 1/2 to 1 cup of baking soda down the drain. Then pour 1/2 to 1 cup of household vinegar down after it. This will result in some fizzing, which mechanically breaks up some of the gunk.

4. Cover the drain if possible and let sit for five minutes.

5. Pour the gallon of boiling water down the drain.

Now, like I said, it only works for slow-moving drains - clearing a clogged drain is another post altogether.

Here Comes the Sun . . .

Spring has arrived! Yes, I know it's probably a bit rude to rub this fact into the faces of anyone from up north - say, the 140,000 without power in Maine thanks to the snow storm, but I'm so excited and it's so pretty!

The azaleas are really starting to crank the blooms out now. This is our largest azalea, out back besides the porch:

(Speaking of azaleas, I think the Florida Azalea Festival in Palatka is still going on March 7-8, even though I couldn't find a single mention of it on the Palatka Daily News web site. There is a web site for the festival, but unless you want to register for the parade or the Azalea Queen beauty pageant, there's not much there to look at.)

Right next to the azalea is a shrub that has little tiny buds that are starting to pop:

When it's fully leafed, it provides a great deal of privacy for our master bathroom - right now, anyone who really wanted to can see in.

One of the other trees in the back yard is also budding with leaves:

There's a few survivors in the vegetable garden planted by the home's previous owners, and most of them are doing pretty well. There's some sort of cabbage plant, rosemary and parsley:

The pineapple isn't doing so well:

I'm really hoping my plumbago comes back. It looks bad - Kyle thinks it's a goner.

Christmas... uh, I mean, Valentine Cactus?

Look who finally decided to make an appearance!

My "Christmas" cactus finally started blooming! We had it inside for too long in the fall, so it wasn't getting the six-eight hours of darkness it needs to bloom. We only moved it outside around the holidays, so I knew it would be a late bloomer (Ha ha! Late bloomer! Get it?)

Poking around in the yard

We're so lucky. Our yard has some lovely winter-blooming plants, some of which I've never seen before. So of course, I take photos and ask my coworker, Tom Wichman, to identify them for me. Tom is the statewide coordinator of the Florida Master Gardener program, and is a capital-N Plant Nerd. (I kid 'cus I love!)

He said the tree with fringy pink blooms in the back yard was commonly called a Chinese Witch Hazel tree (or shrub).

(PDF with photos and info)

This showy plant, out front with the million other bromeliads, is bellbergia nutans, commonly known as Queen's Tears.

(Web site with photos/info)

I knew this was a camellia, but I had to show it off, because it's so beautiful. Too bad there's only one shrub, and it's hidden way in the back of the backyard! (The previous owners of our house seem to have liked sticking random plants around; we also have a lonely rose bush in the back.)

I was also telling Tom about how we'd like to plant some sort of hedge-like shrub in the front of the house, and since I liked camellias, he suggested a Camellia sasanqua 'Shishigashira'. It grows slow and puts out a ton of flowers.

(Info/photo)

Office garden and a correction

First off, I must make a correction: Kyle's grandfather, who passed away Sunday night, was not his last grandparent. His grandmother is still alive. In a nursing home and unaware of her surroundings, but alive nonetheless. I'm a little embarrassed. I guess I was thinking about how his grandfather would be the only grandparent in attendance at our wedding. I feel guilty forgetting his poor grandmother.

With that faux pas out of the way, onto the pictures!

I was leaving work last night just as the sun was going down, and the lighting on the garden around our building was beautiful. I couldn't resist taking a photo of this odd stand of very tall, yellow flowers which stands alone and a short distance from the rest of the garden:



I should have taken more, but I was running late (as usual). I did snap a picture of our garden gnome, though:



This was mainly for one of my coworkers. She is strangely enamoured of gnomes, and I don't think anyone had photographed "our" gnome for her.

Pretty in Pink

We have two Gebera daisy plants in our front yard, and they've been surprising me with consistent blooms since we moved in. It's usually one at a time, so each time a bloom dies, I always think, "Oh - that was that." And damn if there isn't another little bud uncurling beneath all those heavy, lettuce-like leaves.

This one came out . . . well, squashed. I thought as the petals unfurled it would round itself out, but it looks unlikely:

Just to the right of the bloom you might make out the new little bud that coming up next.

Close-up:

More on Gerbera daisies at Gardening in a Minute

New Flower in the Scurrilous Yard

Kyle saw this little plant pushing up between edger stones. He contemplated taking the weed wacker to it, but decided to wait and see what it turned out to be. Turns out it's Pentas:

Flower Photo: Morning Glory

There's a mass of azaleas that grow under a big oak tree that's near my building. In the mornings, you can often see one or two morning glories peeking out among the green azaleas (they bloom in early spring).