bonsai, houseplants, nature, Personal, projects

Bonsai: a beginning

Both my husband and I love houseplants. Which is why our apartment currently has close to 50 plants in it. (Greenery overload! Some of them are refugees from my husband’s office and need to be re-homed.)

A few years ago, we went to a bonsai show. We wanted to get one for ourselves, but didn’t really feel justified in the expense at the time. Then, last year on our wedding anniversary, my gift to my husband was a juniper bonsai, which currently lives in our kitchen on top of our microwave (why yes, we are running out of flat surfaces on which to put our plants!).

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Our juniper bonsai, with a tortoise at its base.

Unfortunately, when it arrived it was infested with fungus gnats, which were killing its root system. After a couple of treatments*  the gnats died and the plant is recovering.

Then, last week, there was a further development in our bonsai saga: my mom gave us a kit to grow our own little trees from seed! Very exciting. And it’s just the right time of year to plant things.

The first step was soaking the seeks for 24 hours. The seeds for the flowering trees changed the color of the water, but the evergreen seeds didn’t. After they had soaked the requisite amount of time, we prepared the peat for potting. This involved pouring very hot water over the little discs of dirt and watching them expand to many times their original size.

After the dirt was rehydrated, it looked and felt like half-cooked brownie batter. In order to prevent mold, the instructions bade us squeeze the water out, which also helped to cool it down. That bit was pretty fun–there’s something very satisfying about sticking one’s hands in dirt and mucking about.

Then it was time to plant the seeds. Unfortunately, we only had one seed for picea abies, the Norway spruce, so I’m really hoping it sprouts. In clockwise order from the top left, the seeds are picea abies, the Norway spruce, delonix regia, the flame tree, pinus aristata, the Rocky Mountain bristlecone pine, and jacaranda mimosifolia, the jacaranda (I’m very excited about this one! Such beautiful purple-blue flowers). The close up is of the flame tree seeds, whose outer layer peeled off like old plastic.

 

At the bottom, you can see how much the peat disc expanded, and the last picture labels all the seeds and gives the date on which they were planted. The instruction booklet said that the Norway spruce can live for thousands of years, so . . . perhaps we will have to make arrangements for it in our will. Is there some sort of institution that cares for bonsai that outlive their owners?

They will not be sprouting for a least a few weeks, but when they do start, I will be posting updates about their progress. I’m very excited to see how they grow!

*A triple attack of hydrogen peroxide and diatomaceous earth (to kill the grubs, which do the actual damage) and cinnamon (to prevent the adult from coming back to lay more eggs). To paraphrase Mr. Darcy, fungus gnats “are my abhorrence”.
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handicrafts, knitting, projects, Uncategorized

Noodling about with (knitting) needles

In January 2017, I made what (at the time) I considered to be a wildly optimistic New Year’s goal: to complete one knitting project by the end of the year. My previous knitting had consisted of two scarves and part of a hat. I have long harbored delusions of knitting grandeur: knitting blankets, sweaters, even lace. Unfortunately, I also harbor bafflement regarding anything more complicated than knitting and purling. Increasing? Decreasing? The words make sense, yes, but the techniques . . . and then there’s slipping stitches, passing slipped stitches over, yarn over . . . the list goes on.

So I decided that my next knitting project would be something uncomplicated. Something familiar, to ease my passage back into Knitting Land. Yes, you guessed it, I made another scarf. But this time I got fancy–I used three different colors of yarn.

And once I started, I really got into the swing of things, and finished it quite quickly. I didn’t use anyone’s pattern for this scarf, I just made it up as I went along. It’s pure wool, so I’m sure it’s very warm, but unfortunately it is very scratchy, so I’ve scarcely worn it. Not to mention we had an exceptionally warm winter.

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The finished product

At any rate, my success with this scarf emboldened me to throw myself back into knitting, and I have another project in the works. 🙂

ME/CFS, Personal

ME/CFS: coping by prioritizing

What I want to do: write a thoughtful post about ME/CFS. One that makes fellow sufferers say, “Yes, that’s exactly how it is! You’ve captured my feelings exactly”. One that helps people without ME/CFS understand what we go through.

What I am currently capable of doing: . . . not the above.

So, instead of that post, you’re going to get a post that requires less of me. What I’m doing right now: watching the Brother Cadfael mystery series (set in England during the 12th century). And noodling around on the internet. Yeah, doing two things at once is a good recipe for not really enjoying either one of them, but the impulse is difficult for me to resist. ME/CFS makes me restless and then robs me of the ability to concentrate or perform sustained physical activity. Whatcha gonna do.

Recently, in an effort to cut down on feelings of despair that accompany the inactivity enforced by my illness, I have taken to making a mental checklist on bad days: what are the one or two things I really need to do today? If I can decide what those are, I kill two birds with one stone: I am less likely waste my energy on nonessentials and waffling about what to do, and I feel less guilty for all the things I didn’t do. Somewhat ironically, setting my priorities often allows me to do more than just the basics.

It’s true that sometimes I don’t manage even the most basic things I wanted from a day, but I’m learning how to move on from it. To forgive myself, and extend myself the same understanding I would give to someone else. I do have bad days (weeks, months), but I like to think I do what I can. And that’s all I can ask of myself.