One Side of a Conversation …

… that I had yesterday afternoon with a co-worker:

Thanks! Yep, Ann Taylor. I just got it. No, I literally just got it, like five minutes ago.

Because I was walking outside on the way back from lunch and a pigeon pooped on my sweater.

No, I’m dead serious. It was in two places on my sweater and all over my wallet.

But did you see what I was wearing earlier? It was a green-and-white argyle sweater, and the poop landed on the white part right in the middle of my chest. And I’m not sure I knew this before, but pigeon poop is not white. It looked like I dropped a Hershey bar on myself. Even just in the four blocks back to the office people were staring and I really didn’t want people staring at my chest all day, so I had to get this.

Oh, sure, I love an excuse to shop. I’m not denying that.

You’d think, but this isn’t even the first time. When my husband and I went to visit his folks when they were living in Dallas, we went to the aquarium there and in the rainforest exhibit, a parrot or a toucan or something pooped all over my sweater then, too. And that one was cashmere! I was so pissed.

No, you’re fine -- it’s totally funny now. It wasn’t funny when I was walking around wearing pigeon poop, but it’s funny now. See you later!

Ready for a Close-Up

A few weeks ago, we got a new camera. For quite some time, I'd been continually frustrated by my inability to take non-blurry close-ups in the garden, as evidenced by this shot from last summer.


Some of that it definitely my fault: I've got extremely limited skills in the photography department, plus my hands tend to shake just enough to affect the outcome (although this never seems problematic or even noticable unless I'm holding a camera). My own shortcomings aside, our previous camera was about four years old, being a wedding gift M and I gave to each other. It worked fine, but as happens with most "consumer electonics," camera technology has really improved in those few years.

After reading an NYT article about the newer optical stabilizing features, I did a little Consumer Reports research and picked out a camera that I thought would do the trick. The bad news: I didn't really think about how inconvenient a camera that uses standard batteries (even when you take rechargeables into consideration) would be. The good news: National Camera Exchange is awesome and let me swap out the initial purchase for a slightly better model that includes a lithium-ion rechargeable battery: the wonderful Olympus Stylus 1010.

The result? Photos I never could have taken before, including those below. Click on any of them to see just how crisp the detail is.

Oh, and in addition to providing fantastic customer service, National Camera Exchange includes a voucher for a free photography class with every camera purchase. Between the class, which I'll take sometime this summer, and the new camera, I'm really tickled about what's in store for photgraphing the garden this year.

Lust Wanes, But I'm Still Charmed

When I first bought (on impulse) my Lobelia erinus hanging basket, it looked just like the photo below. Really.

Quickly, though, it became less showy, and at one point, I feared for its survival. Look how crispy it was early last week!

Since then, though, a couple of folks have mentioned that this is just what Lobelia baskets do, no matter where you put them or what you do. And while that's a shame, it does make me feel better -- I had thought the plant's more pedestrian appearance was a reflection of poor gardening. Now I don't feel quite so responsible.

Truth is, it doesn't look too terrible right now -- it's just that there's no way it can compete with its spectacular appearance earlier this year. Readjusting my expectations helps. After all, those little blooms --though there are fewer -- are still a heart-stopping periwinkle blue. I've moved it (again) to a new location with late afternoon sun and it seems to have perked up a bit. It's not so showy, but it looks less crispified. So while my lust has waned, I'm still glad to have Lobelia around.

Lobelia Lust and Impulse Purchases

I didn't go looking for it. Really. When I got to Bachman's last Friday night, I had a carefully planned shopping list of a few perennials and some groundcovers. After all, I learned the hard way last year that garden center impulse purchases don't pan out well. Really, what had I been thinking when I bought that weird pink-and-white phlox? There's no pink in my garden, just like there's no crying in baseball. But I digress. (Shocker, right?)

ANYway. I was committed to buying a few more Rudbeckia and Perovskia, some creeping thyme and alyssum, and then getting out. But I couldn't find the Perovskia (I'm still learning my way around Bachman's humongoloid Lyndale facility), so I accidentally ended up in the greenhouse with the hanging baskets.

That's when I saw it. Lobelia erinus, spilling riotously out of its container in airy masses of perfect periwinkle blue.

I wanted it so badly that my chest hurt a little. (I have funny reactions to this particular shade of blue, as evidenced by the Blue Room in our upstairs.) I walked away from it, then came back. Three times.

After I finally gave in and hung in on my cart, I headed to the register -- only to be stopped by no fewer than four complete strangers wanting to comment on how beautiful it was.

As I mentioned above, I really do try to avoid unplanned plant buys. All the gardening shows I've ever watched recommend that approach, because you get home only to find that you have no places suitable for your impulse purchases. (It's easiest for me to liken this to buying an adorable pair of shoes without really considering the fact that they don't go with anything in my closet.) I think it's an especially good rule of thumb for anything that goes in the ground (e.g., that aggressive groundcover that's unexpectedly taken over a whole bed in just a few seasons). But with a hanging basket of annuals, what's the harm? So I fell, and I fell hard, and I'm not sorry about it.

My only less-than-solid feelings on the matter: I'm a little concerned about its location. The light information on the tag reads "partial to complete shade," but other sources I've consulted say it can likes a fair amount of sun as long as the soil stays moist. Given that everyone seems to agree that it prefers cooler temperatures, I'm learning toward keeping it a little more protected by having it in the partial shade under the pine tree. This placement also gives me the opportunity to admire it from the hammock, the chairs on the veranda, the patio dining table and just about any other spot in the backyard.

Other than concerns about the location, it's love. Or at least, Lobelia lust.