Green Thumbs and Paint

It’s well reported that plants clean the air. Green is a relaxing color, and the outdoors is proven to reduce stress, etc. etc.

I *love* plants. I have a harder time walking out of a garden center empty handed than just about any other type of store. I tried counting over the winter, how many plants were in my house—not even really counting the army of annuals that I’d moved from my deck to the guest room upstairs—and I lost count. The plants winter in the guest room because it is the brightest room in the house and they would all die if I tried to keep them somewhere else.

So Green. Done this winter.

It’s scientifically proven. Oy. Poor things. Every winter I drag in my herbs with the hope that I can keep them alive indoors, but they never quite make it through with the limited light. This winter I bought a grow light in February, and more of them made it than before.

If I did the plant count today, there would be…um…sixteen on the main floor and fifteen on the bedroom level. Not counting the plants in with the fish (three bettas in three bowls). And that’s with all the other plants out for the summer (including my lemon trees, rose of Sharons, clematis, and assorted herbs).

I suppose that makes it sounds like I have a green thumb…it’s more that I read labels.

When I don’t read the label, I buy plants that won’t ever survive in my house and they die. This is what happens in the fish tank (to be fair, though, the labels on those plants are utterly useless), and I have yet to sort out what’s going on there. Java ferns, anarchis, nameless ground covers…all die. I’ve only just turned to the internet for solutions, feeling pretty dumb for taking so long. Apparently, they sell substrate just for water plants, to build a proper eco system with bacteria and everything. Not to mention even water plants need light.

We’ll see how that experiment goes.

This was from a year or so ago.

For all this…you’d think I’d be better at painting them, but I feel woefully inadequate. It has taken me forever to render a succulent that I actually felt proud of. But, I did! Finally. I’ve managed a little better with roses, but I’ve been at roses longer.  

I guess that’s a huge part of both gardening and painting, you just have to keep practicing, keep training the eye, keep trying. And…possibly read the instructions.

(A number of these pieces are for sale on Redbubble)

A love affair with birds

I don’t know who started it, but I belong to a family of birders. Compared to a truly avid birder, we aren’t, but compared to the folks who aren’t sure what a robin is, we’re absolute bird nerds.

I think this is a wren. I should have written it down.

Growing up, we had a couple blue bird houses in back and a hummingbird feeder hanging off the deck. But my grandparents maintained a monstrous contraption of a bird feeder, with suet, thistle, sunflower, and probably a couple other extensions. My grandfather had a longstanding contest with the local squirrels, but unlike me he was actually pretty successful in building baffles to keep the little moochers off. It wasn’t until recently that the trees had gotten too big and too close, and the squirrels could just LEAP directly onto the feeder.

But for years, the squirrels foraged under the feeder and the birds fed at their appointed places and splashed in their heated (in winter) birdbath.

My Grandparents received Birds and Blooms magazine, and whenever we arrived at their house for a visit I would immediately grab a magazine and flip through the pages looking at all the spectacular, brilliantly colored, photography. I never read the full length articles, just the short little blurbs and funny stories. But oh, those pictures.

Phone calls, letters, and conversation centered on the happenings at the bird feeder—what notable bird visited, or the time the fox came through with a half-eaten something in his mouth, or the day the hawk visited and ALL THE BIRDS avoided the yard for hours. I imagine, if there were a zoologist historian at some point in the future, they would like to have my grandmother’s letters. But given that they are all written in cursive, they won’t be able to read them.

The aviary is my favorite part of the zoo, and I always try to stop and listen to the birds, even though I have only the barest grasp on which birds I’m hearing. Now that I’m grown and have a house of my own, I have a sunflower seed feeder.

I hang it off a tree branch I can reach from my deck, so I had no illusions about keeping the squirrels off—though I do throw cups of water at them sometimes when I feel like they’ve been on the feeder Every Single Time I’ve been out there.

I don’t mind at all when the cardinal in the tree outside my bedroom window scolds loudly because the feeder is empty. I love watching the housefinches, chickadees and the occasional titmouse pigging out on the feeder.

Blue Jay (those Jays…)

After a lifetime of drawing horses, I was surprised to find an affinity for birds. I really love painting birds, and half the time I really love how the paintings come out. I attribute it to the hours and hours I spent poring over Birds and Blooms, staring at breathtaking hummingbirds, titmice, tanagers, orioles, chickadees, bluebirds (east and west), blue jays (east and west)…of course, the more shy, insect eating birds I know essentially nothing about (there are armies of wrens and warblers and sparrows that I’m only seeing now because I have an uncle and an aunt who are Real Avid Birders with a Really Nice Camera).

I’ve started to experiment with different looks and feels for my bird paintings, and will probably start asking various wildlife and raptor rehabilitation centers if they are interested in having a piece to auction.

What about you? Do you bird watch? Or are birds those mysterious avian monsters from that Hitchcock movie? Which of these birds did you like best and want to see in the Etsy shop? (The Blue Vireo is already there)

The Last Unicorn

I know…no horn…but this creature must be a unicorn anyway.

EPSON MFP image
The Last Unicorn available at http://www.redbubble.com/people/ravenslanding