The Art of Catching Bumblebees

Growing up was a bit different in the 1950’s then it is today. Most of my days I spent outside playing. There was very little organized time and if there was, I wasn’t part of it. I do think there may have been a tap dancing class, some things like that but I wasn’t coordinated and shoes for tap dancing were expensive.

There must have been a lot to do seeing I was always outside with the neighbor kids, exploring, making tents from our bikes and old blankets, playing cars in the dirt, making hollyhock dolls, all creative and exciting 🙂 The adventure I’m writing about today I loved doing. Didn’t take anything much to do it and I had an ulterior motive (a pet).

Catching bees, bumblebees, the big fluffy ones (there are over 250 species of bees and I’m not going to try to find the exact variety I liked to catch). It wasn’t a skinny variety, it had to be fluffy, yellow and black, and a look like it wanted to become my friend. As I think back I assume that ‘look’ was determined by me!

Hollyhocks were the best! You could even pick a hollyhock bloom fully open and trap the bee inside! It took bravery and evidently that had not been one of the times I planned on a new pet! There was no way out for that bee but to drop the flower or peek and open and release. It was exciting too feel the buzzing, vibrating bumblebee and the threat it was going to sting me! Yes! Bees did sting me many times but so what, no one ever worried that you might swell up into a balloon and die. I ran home for some ice and carried on with my mission.

To prepare properly for catching bees you need a few things. First up, a nice big jar with a tight fitting cover. A mayonnaise jar worked very well, peanut butter too, it had a wider top. Next an ice pick, always warned that you are going to stab yourself or something dreadful with that pick, never a warning you’re going to get stung, or don’t drop that glass jar! Puncture wounds were bad, stings not so much. The cover needed many well poked holes so the bumblebee could breathe after it was captive. If one does the job well, maybe more than one bee can live on and on in the rarefied environment I’d create. I made the jar nice inside, put some sugar on the bottom, bees must like sugar because they do make honey. Right? Than add a few flowers, preferably the same kind the bees were enjoying at the moment. Often the flower was a hollyhock but there were other shrubs and flowers with swarms of buzzing bees. A stick was a good addition; bees need something to sit on when resting. Ah, a perfect home for a bee! At least perfect in the mind of a child who believed in fairies and who’s imagination was unending.

The art came in getting your jar very close to the back of the bee and the flower it was using. Slip the bee and flower into your jar and wham! A bee and an extra flower. Often the bees were dusted with yellow pollen seeing they had been busy all morning. Even better I was certain then it (the bee) could make honey right there in my jar. A pet and honey! Be still my naive little girl heart.

I was pretty good at this art and often had two or three bees in a jar. I suppose someone should have told me what I was doing was not nice. I was going to kill the bees and a bee would not make a very good pet. Seems I didn’t learn that lesson until many bees went to the beehive in the sky. Plus, all the other kids did it too!

When I found them in the morning (always put them next to my bed, we were going to bond), they didn’t look good. Jar was usually rather moist, droplets running down the side somewhat like a steam bath, and the bees a bit soggy and not moving much. Of course the flowers wilted and there weren’t any bees happily singing a tune on the stick I provided.

Didn’t take long to realize that the one or more bees were dying or already dead. Well, when a person dies they get buried, I knew that much. A child’s mind is practical. I did have a proper amount of sadness, I didn’t cry over the death of the bees (a bird or fish I would have). At that time in my life I didn’t understand my catching of the bees and their certain death. A funeral would be planned and under the porch I would go.

Under the porch was cool, moist soil, a few weeds on the edges, worms, many other burial plots, an old push mower and a supply of broken glass and stones I had stashed for just this purpose. Bee funerals happened often, even toad or frog funerals. I’d dig a nice neat hole, wrap the now dead bee in a fresh flower, place it in it’s grave (each bee a separate grave) and then bury it. The marker would consist of one of the lovely pieces of glass I had stored or a stone. Broken green glass from a pop bottle was always nice. Most likely a few words were said to the bee. Next came the flowers to decorate the stone. Small ones, like a forget me not, worked really well and just think of the sentiment!

When I think back on the entertainment I found as a child it is amusing and sometimes bittersweet. I very much wanted a pet (the bittersweet), I did like the bees and the flowers and had no idea I was killing what I wanted for a friend. There were lessons learned: I could get hurt (a little sting), things die when you mess with them, and that dead requires a mourning or celebration. Lessons we learn on our own often stay with us, experience is a good teacher. I’m sure there are other former bee catchers out there:-)

Now I simply enjoy the bees, especially the big fluffy ones and smile when they buzz and bumble around my garden. FREE TOO BE A BEE !

Spring in the Courtyard

Tags

mountain laurels, red bud tree

Spring has sprung in Cedar Creek!  I was in the courtyard with my trusty Calla Lily; she is forever looking for toads, maybe trolls, who truly knows what lurks under the boardwalk.  Toads are certainly there, size of baseballs and don’t care much for dogs.  Even after she’s been slimed by a toad, bit by a snake, Callie still thinks she’s a hunting dog, it’s not going to happen.  She does have a good time and is a good garden companion.

I talk to Callie, and yesterday wasn’t an exception.  I pointed out  bees by the hundreds,  buzzing of bees was everywhere, as it is most days with spring trees and roses in bloom.  The red bud tree is outstanding smothered in its vibrant pink blooms. Redbuds are beautiful.  The trees literally cover themselves with blooms, bringing to mind a woman going to a ball, all decked out in her finest.

One of the spring delights I miss from my life in the Midwest are the lilacs.  To me there is nothing that matches the scent of a lilac in bloom, the mountain laurel scent is grape, seems a perfect match with it’s vibrant blue color with dashes of white; a very acceptable replacement for the lilacs.

One plant I haven’t been able to find a replacement for is the peony, my daughter Christina’s favorite flower and one of my favorites.  Picking huge bouquets to bring in was a spring tradition.  In Upper Michigan a July tradition, just a bit on the cooler side next to Lake Superior.  Gardeners here do try to grow peonies but after loving the ‘real thing’, I’ll find something to plant that likes Texas.

I’ve been picking the irises as soon as they begin to open.  I’m finding they continue to bloom, buds opening as large and beautiful as if I’d left them in the garden.  I like to bring as much of the garden in as I possibly can.  When the roses see me coming they know it’s either pruning time or I’m in search of a bloom or two, it’s still early for them to be covered with open blooms, I’ve still managed to cut a few.

My grandchildren, Riley Ann and Jack like to ‘pick’ the roses that are about to fall, and drop the petals into the bird bath, they claim It’s a special petal bath for the birds.  After a few days it does get a bit slimy, they don’t notice I do clean it; they simply fill it up again, the birds don’t seem to mind at all.

One of the roses by our front door is gigantic; it reaches to the roofline and has few thorns.  I like to prune roses and this one allowed me to prune a hiding spot inside of it.  The kids & I can get inside the rose and watch the world from the inside out.  It’s an interesting perspective and I often wonder what it looks like through their eyes.  At times I feel like the old woman from Hansel & Gretel!

Games in a garden are never-ending.  The ‘reward’ (if you call it one) is a hug and kiss if you win!  We ask Riley and Jack to search for things in the garden, something blue, a frog, a pine cone, a hummingbird, a bird’s nest, ribbons swaying in the wind, the list goes on.  They get very involved and most often Hal and I tire before they do.  Our courtyard is special to me; it’s always lovely, the grass always green, it is serene.  It is a microclimate, so if it’s chilly outside (that does happen even in Texas), the courtyard is usually perfect. Perfect for morning coffee, or late afternoon wine.  It’s a haven for birds, I find birds nests everywhere when the plants thin in the fall, or when I am pruning.

A garden in our environment does have its dangers, not a surprise something so beautiful would have some dark side (in addition to the trolls).  We occasionally have snakes, after a rain fire ants often appear in swirling mounds and my most irritating invaders are wasps.  They build a very nice looking nest. After they are not so politely asked to leave I do ‘pick’ the hive, clean it (they have larva inside the combs, this requires a toothpick and an anal personality) and it becomes fine material for decorating, bringing outside in, the same with the birds nests.  I’m an inveterate collector of outside treasures.

This time of the year the birds nests are left alone seeing they are already singing their mating songs in the early morning.  It’s surprising how flimsy some of the nests are and that they don’t blow away tossing babies and all to the danger of the ground, they never do.  Always interesting to see just what the birds (we have a lot of cardinals) put in their nests.  Sometimes things I recognize, like fur from brushed cats, maybe a dropped string.  The cats are happy being useful to the birds that tempt them from the windows, maybe not, but I’d like to think they would enjoy being  useful.

Spring is fleeting, just beginning and I hope to miss none of the beauty.  The wild flowers will begin in a few weeks and they are exquisite, if we have rain, they put on an extraordinary show.  And, yes, people do put their children, their dog, horse, whatever in the fields of  blue bonnets  to take pictures!

Heidi Spring Joy a Dog Story

Tags

guinea pigs, hunting dog, loving heart, rainbow bridge

                                Heidi Spring Joy a Dog Story

After a year of sorting out my life, my emotions, all that follow after the death of a spouse of 28 years, a man I’d known all my life; I decided I was able to once again nurture another living thing, a dog.  Animals are a large part of my life.   In the beginning it was difficult to nurture myself, let alone anything needy like a frisky pup.

When my husband died it was a shock that one can’t imagine or begin to predict what the reaction may be, we are all quite certain we know just what we’d do, we don’t.   Not long after he passed, our beloved Shih Tzu, Lady Panda Bear had to leave for the Rainbow Bridge, sixteen years of delighting my children, the neighborhood and even the school.  What better to bring to school for show and tell then an adorable ‘dust mop’ that did tricks (often the opposite of what she was being asked to do). I had enough loss for the time being thank you very much!

I was living alone at that time (I’m not mentioning the two GIANT guinea pigs who would live on and on as they are poor company).  My youngest child Christina had left for college and the house was pretty quiet and my heart had an empty spot, (quite honestly, many empty spots).

After a small dog I wanted a BIG dog.  Maybe a German shepherd would work? I had one once in my life and he was amazing but was protective and I now had a fence with small children living nearby that would surely be sticking fingers through to pet my dog.  I called my veterinarian (don’t laugh) Dr. Barker and asked him to recommend a dog that would be happy, big and the life of the party.   A Golden Retriever was his suggestion and as it happened he knew a family who had newborns!  Be still my dog loving heart!  I called and they asked me to come over and I could pick the ‘second’ of the litter.  One was already promised, she came from good hunting dog breeding stock, like that would matter to me.   Guess there was always that option, although hard  to imagine me hunting anything.

Fat, balls of golden red fur, a whole mess of them all wiggling and tumbling over one another made for a hard choice.  I wanted a female so started my process; each was identified by pink or blue ribbon.  One just stood out for me, she was very active and liked to be held by people!  My name was placed on the pink ribbon.  I hurried home to call everyone I knew what I’d just done!  Hooray!  My kids were happy (they love animals) my friends wondered what I was getting myself into (they often question my sanity), a BIG dog!  And I did work at a botanical garden.  Duh!  I’d find a way, there’s always a way.  See any life lessons in here; always a way?

I visited her as often as the people would let me in the door, often with my daughter who was as delighted as I was with this new ball of fur.   She was coming home on Mother’s Day; I know how to treat myself right!  What a gift for me.

The wait for her to be able to come to her new home seemed forever to me. I had to come up with a name meaningful to me and fitting for a big red dog.  Most weekends in this time period I drove my trusty Rodeo (another story) to Upper Michigan to wander the shores of ‘my’ beloved Lake Superior.  The lake gave me strength when I needed it, often rough and black, huge foamy waves, sometimes beautiful light blue and smooth as glass How could someone not gain strength from such a thing of beauty and strength.  On my three CD drive to get to Lake Superior and my home town I had time to think, I came up with my favorite childhood story Heidi.  It was spring and the puppy would be a joy.   I had it!  Heidi Spring Joy was her name and she did fit the name well.  Heidi would later come with me on these journeys to Lake Superior. Heidi chased waves and was delighted with the water and the holes she could dig in the beautiful white sand with no one telling her to not dig there!

Heidi was an adorable pup and when she was old enough I started to take her to work with me.  I had an understanding boss, and the garden was just beginning so wasn’t’ flooded with people as it now is.  Heidi was nurtured by the beautiful garden, woods, paths to run on and lots of people to love her and play with her.  The only problem she caused, and it wasn’t a big one, she liked to eat the doorstops made out of wooden wedges.  Otherwise everyone was happy to see her and for the most part my “you are working” issue was solved.

Heidi and I had a change in store for us, I got a cat Daisy May from the Humane Society, and they got on well.  Another thing I’d always wanted was a Siamese cat.  No problem!  I found one and off friends and I went to bring her home.  They were certain I again had lost it but were patiently understanding with a bawling Siamese on a two-hour ride, Poppy never stopped bawling at the top of her lungs the whole drive.  Heidi liked her too, and she also liked Sweetie Pie who was the next, a rescue from Texas.  Little did Sweetie know her life would come full circle and she’d end up back in Texas!  Bless her heart.

My life at that time kept changing at a fairly steady pace!  I eventually met my husband Hal; a man who never had a pet in his life unless one counts the two turtles he dropped from a few floors up to see if they could fly.  They couldn’t.   When he came to visit me the first time he was greeted by a big dog, and three cats.  A cat that wouldn’t leave him alone, he thought she was growling when she was purring.   That would be The Popper as he came to call her.  And of course he didn’t mind Heidi too much either, and of course he was on his best behavior seeing we really didn’t know each other well and I don’t doubt he ever thought then he’d end up living with all these animals.

Eventually all these animals and I moved to Punta Gorda, Florida.  Hal and I built a house; long distance building is great fun!  All of my animals were being crated and flown to Florida with me; my car was going with my moving van.  Then 9/11 happened, such an unforgettable tragedy for America.  And new restrictions were placed on flying.  My only choice was to drive my car and my animals (now numbering four) to Florida.  Another challenge.  My oldest son Mike was coerced into driving with me so I wouldn’t need to make the trip alone.  And thank goodness he did, he’s a good traveling companion but it was like a traveling zoo with a bleating cat all the way.  Even with tranquilizers she bleated all the way to Punta Gorda, think Linda Blair in the Exorcist, horrible sound. Heidi Spring Joy was great, slept in her spot and I think put her paws over her ears.

Hal, Hal’s wife Annie Girl, Heidi and I moved into our new home (another day, another story) and all the animals were delighted and Heidi was a happy dog.  She walked with me in the neighborhood and delighted everyone we met; everyone knew her name, they did NOT know mine.  Not quite as friendly as Texas, at least where we lived.  A boating and golf community, something we did not do.  What were we thinking?

Heidi matured into a lovely Golden; she was working for her certification to be a visiting dog at nursing homes.  She was doing well. She had Annie at home to practice with, head in lap, wait for a crumb, or sleep by her chair.  Golden’s calm down after a few years (yes, it takes that long) and are perfect to take visiting people who miss having an animal or even find they like one that will lay her head in their lap to be petted.  Heidi looked forward every week day for Hal to go pick Annie up from day care, a ride!  Nothing better.

The summer of August 2004 the 1st named hurricane of the season was named Charley.  Punta Gorda hadn’t had a hurricane hit since the 60’s; we all felt relatively safe but took precautions.  We did not leave our house.  Charley hit us as a strong category 4 hurricane.  It devastated our town and did a darn good job on our house after a window was breached.  It was a frightening time for all of us in Florida.  More hurricanes followed that year.

The repair from such devastation takes time; piles and piles of debris, becoming toxic lined our streets and neighborhood.  The crews cleaning up got to us when they could.  In the meantime Heidi still needed to be walked, our yard was a big mess, my gardens ripped to shreds; they would recover nicely with a lot of gardening repair.

Walking along in her usual manner Heidi would sniff everything in sight, she was a dog after all, and it’s what they do.  The piles of fermenting debris we could do nothing about and at the time didn’t think they would be harmful.  Although shortly after all these walks and sniffing Heidi started to get sick.  Our vet couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her.  She simply got sicker and sicker.

One day Hal & I couldn’t find her.  We went in the back yard (she had a doggy door) and nowhere to be found.  Then I remembered that an animal would go away, hide, and find a place to die.   We found her, she wouldn’t come to us, and she was still alive, we brought her to the vet, they just didn’t know what to do, and the doctors had been treating her for some time at this point.  We brought her home, went out for the evening with friends and when we came home we found her.  She was heading for her doggy door and died on the pool deck.  Our hearts were truly broken.  We can’t talk about her today and that she died so young (6) without tears coming to our eyes.  The man who never had a dog, and his animal crazy wife were overcome with sadness, never to have a dog again, we’ll stick with our cats seeing they don’t go outside to sniff and inhale toxic waste that will destroy their liver.

Our hearts can break in so many ways, losing a beloved pet is only one of them.  The only cure is time and it simply softens, takes the edge off  your sadness.  Good memories, kindness of friends and our environment sustain us.

More hurricanes followed that summer of Charley, we repaired our house as fast as Hal could get contractors and after one look at Cedar Creek Texas we built another home.  We moved our household (again with the bleating Poppy Cat) and with Annie Girl from her nursing home in Punta Gorda to an even nicer one in Buchner Villas.  And we started again, new gardens, new people, new everything.  We did already have Tracy and her husband Rob here (one of our daughters) so we had a head start.

To connect this to my love for gardening I believe we transplanted ourselves quite nicely, it wasn’t easy and there were many obstacles but we once again began to thrive in our new home with 4 cats.  Although, we do now have another dog, Calla Lily (never say never) we’ve lost our beloved Poppy Cat but have added two more cats. And of course we have gardens.  Life goes on, all of us waiting for the next adventure, good or bad.

TRANSPLANTING and TRAVEL

Most people love to travel (I am not one of them). This causes a problem; I have the curiosity and desire to see many of the wonders of the world; the wonders of my own country; a contradiction to be sure! I think this falls under the category of ‘self improvement’, even at this age!

Months before a scheduled trip (it would be best to spring them on me) I begin to imagine all that could happen while I’m gone, what could befall me or my home while I’m on the planned adventure. I have a limited long end to our trips that I can cope with, driving my husband to wring his hands seeing he would like to incorporate every possible thing to be done on an expensive/or not so expensive adventure. Ten days! My limit, I can’t go beyond that or I begin to fall apart and turn into an absolute pain and everyone knows where. I’ve not tried longer so who knows, I may not implode and my house and animals may not fall into ruin while I am gone. I’m not going there though; I don’t want anyone getting ideas.

I’ve struggled with this ‘issue’ all my life. It didn’t matter for much of my life because I didn’t travel; I thought about it and solved some of my wanderlust by reading about the interesting places to go…..someday, safely in the future. I’d been on a few trips, short ones, saw a few things in the United States on well planned trips that I knew beforehand where I would be and what I would be doing, who would be caring for my children, my dog, my garden, all the things that are near and dear to my heart.

As it has a habit of doing life changed! Bam! There it was, I was a single woman (I preferred never to call myself a widow at 48) and the future was before me and I needed to make changes. The changes are a story for another day; today we’ll stick to travel

I met my current husband, which leads to multiple stories for other days! To visit him I had to fly, by myself to totally unfamiliar territories. Well, suck it up and do it was all I could think of doing, but I could control the time frame and where I stayed (very important to an environment based person). It was much easier when he visited me, but not always possible. My flights began, I got pretty good at it and branched out to meet him in different cities where we could go on a cruise! Oh boy, panic in my heart. A cruise, on a ship and I don’t like water and what kind of ‘room’ would we have and would it have a private enough bathroom area, my thoughts go on and on. Early in a relationship one doesn’t always make their desires and views (and weaknesses) completely well-known. That takes time and getting to know your companion better, admitting a weakness or even two (more than that and you are pressing your luck), or to express loudly a strength!

While writing these entries I’m trying to relate my short stories to gardening, something I know well. I can do that! Never fear, I do have a relationship in mind to my gardens and me. My plants and I have something in common! They dislike being moved, every single one of them. Even though I’m usually doing them a favor, improved light, better soil, and better drainage, all for their benefit. They react much like I do when faced with  traveling. They wilt, they sulk, they refuse to thrive, sometimes parts fall off, and it’s often not a pretty picture. They liked it where they were no matter they weren’t growing well, or not able to show their full beauty. I coddle them and treat them well, pay attention and almost all the time they come around. They don’t always do what I planned but most often they survive and turn out better for their move. I don’t mention to them they aren’t going back to their former home. That’s where our stories differ; I do come home to my animals (seven), my family, my ‘treasures’ and my own bed. Of course while I am traveling, my husband is with me and I’m totally engrossed in taking photos of this that and the other thing. Sometimes what I’m taking a picture of is a doorway, or the crack in an old Roman wall, again leaving me stories for other days.

As you may have guessed I have a trip coming up. Wish me a bon voyage and that I don’t lose leaves, wilt or sulk. I haven’t yet, but it could happen!

Time to begin

It has been suggested I write about what I know. I am a gardener by trade, a wife, a mother, grandmother, a voracious reader, an observer of life and at this point in my life simply living has taught me a thing or two! Some I didn’t care to learn, but we don’t always have a choice. My life has been a grand journey and the people in my life now and in the past each have left something with me to share, sometimes a good lesson sometimes a lesson that was painful, still a lesson.

Now it’s back to taking advice on how to write this blog and ponder what gardening will have to do with life, death, joy, sorrow and  good living. Please join me as I go to my past and my current life and the wonderful and not so wonderful people and places I’ve experienced.  You may recognize yourself, garner garden advice or maybe a lesson in life hard learned, or a serious discussion of something I feel or have lived and can share with you and you can then share with me.

Confusion Reigns!

Writing a blog?  Oh my, now I have a complete new skill set to learn!  Friends have encouraged me….are they giving me credit when I have nothing to share?  We shall see!