Musings from Left of the Bible Belt

Since I can't garden outside yet, I ordered some succulents to pot indoors from an Etsy seller.

From whom I will never buy another thing. But that's another story...

Part of the deal was - buy 10 potted succulents, her choice of a mix of 6. So that means you get some that are the same.

So I spent some time IDing the ones in her photo on her ad.

And wasted that time.

Because only 3 were any of the ones in her photo.

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So now, I have spent some more time IDing what I actually got.

And this is where you come in...

First, let's start with the aloe I got from Lowes before I got the box of incredibly poorly packed succulents from the Etsy seller.



Now, the rest are from the Etsy seller.

I think this is some sort of agave.



And I think this is a sempervivum.



And I have no idea on any of the 3 of these, which I put in one pot (and may not oughta be in one pot). The largest one has a visible stem that I planted above the soil line.



If you have suggestions, please comment.

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The journey is good.

And it's even better when you can review an online sale...

Planning major revisions to the aquascaping in all four tanks.

Plants will ship on Tuesday for Friday delivery to my door.

I'm taking off Friday at noon.

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But this morning, I had water changes to do.

Betcha didn't know I was an aqua chemist.



The bubbles on the tips of the cabomba are CO2. This is called pearling.



Naturally, Dubya had to be in the photo, because he is...Dubya.

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I love this piece of cholla with the marimo moss tied to it. But it just takes up too much real estate in the 20, 10 and nano, so I moved it to the goldfish tank.



Where it looks like it will be stripped clean by Gypsy...

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Have been soaking some pieces of driftwood for each tank for two weeks in anticipation of the new scaping.

Today, I went ahead and tied the anubias in the goldfish tank to their driftwood, put it in the tank, and weighted it down with a rock.

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It takes about two hours to do water changes and maintenance on all the tanks.

There's a peacefulness about the process that makes it less like a chore. I check plants and fish. Gypsy bumps my hand constantly prompting me for food. (No, he doesn't get any...)

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The journey is good.

Nature grounds me.

Now, for the real chores...

Namaste.

Woke this morning feeling stuffy.

While friends and acquaintances were sniffling, sneezing and snorting their way through the yellow haze of tree pollen weeks ago - we had a mild winter and an early spring this year - I was fine.

Must be the grasses...

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No real chance of rain in our immediate forecast. Drought, anyone? Unless we have a really topsy-turvy summer, I feel we will have an early drought (and no, folks...it's not summer yet, it's late spring - check your calendar for the summer solstice. Or better yet. get in tune with nature's cycles...).

I just filled the birdbaths again. I have one on a pedestal for the wee titmice, chickadees and the like, and one on the ground for the doves.

Because doves look so awkward and ill at ease perching on a pedestal bath. They need to drink and bathe, too.

The viburnum is loaded with small berries left from its blooms.



The birds probably do not care. For the most part, birds live in the moment, taking food and drink where they can find it. If they cannot find it in their own range, they will look farther out.

Seems there are lessons in that...

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My four day weekend has been lovely. Productive where it needed to be, and restful where it did not.

It has given me time to look inward, in a season where I customarily am too busy to do much of that.

I've mused about how RSD has changed my life - in large ways and small.

Last night, I dreamed I curled my left hand into a fist. When I woke, my fingers were trying, but no dice...

This morning, pain and burning are about a 5. I just made multiple trips from garden hose with a one gallon pitcher to the bird baths - pedestal bath takes 3 pitchers, ground bath takes five.

Because the effort of unreeling, stretching and re-reeling the hose was just too much energy.

And during those trips back and forth, I realized ~again ~ that RSD has taught me a valuable lesson.

It - whatever it might be at the moment - is going to take as long as it takes.

And in those extra moments, I have time to observe. See and experience things I might otherwise overlook in favor of just getting a thing done.

As one might expect, some of those observations are about me...

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The journey is good.

As is looking within...

Namaste.

I was afraid after our awful heat and drought they would poop out and just drop their leaves.

But no - they put on a brief, but glorious display.

We had a thunderstorm the other night and pretty impressive winds.

The ones in the west garden were sheltered from the storm by the lattice.

And how wonderful they are...





In a brief spot of sunshine today...

Work, work, work...

I said I was not going to do office work this weekend.

Thursday, I emailed a video clip of some nastiness at the Arkansas State Hospital to the feds so they would have it for their upcoming visit on Monday.

While I was also converting incident reports for emailing to them.

And burning documents to CDs to take to a hearing to which I have been subpoenaed - on ASH.

They replied to say they had gotten the email, but their server had stripped the attachment, so could I just burn them a copy of the DVD and run out and overnight it to them?

Pissed me right off, they did. So I let them know by reply email.

That I am not their secretary and errand chick. And that I can give the surveyors the DVDs when they get here on Monday, because we ALL - ASH and I - know they will be here on Monday. It's not a secret, as much as they would like to think it is.

So now, I'll be delivering said DVDs to their hotel - tonight when they get here.

Shit. And all six other words George Carlin said you can't say on TV...

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Got up to relentless heat yesterday morning - was already almost 80 degrees and very humid when I began my chores.

Along about 10 a.m., sweating like a fiend, I noticed the Sharpchick mobile had a flat on the right rear tire sitting in my driveway.

More Carlin words.

Called my handy-dandy roadside assistance folks to send someone to change the flat.

Naturally, he got lost.

And naturally, he was one of those guys who think women can't give directions.

I finally said, young man, I know where I am - you don't. This will be a whole lot easier for both of us if you will shut up and listen to me.

When he got here, he exclaimed over my essentially brand new tires and wondered how the tire went flat. Looked at me as if he expected an answer.

I suggested he change the damned thing, let me sign the invoice so he can get paid, and be done with it. My tire guys will tell me tomorrow how it came to go flat.

And look! he exclaimed. You have a real spare, not a donut...so I don't have to tell you not to drive more than 45 miles an hour.

Okay...I don't do donuts, thankyouverymuch.

And you don't have to tell me how fast to drive...

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Did some major rearranging around the cottage - mostly of the piles of genealogy stuff...threw out a lot of paper because I found I had already scanned and transcribed it.

Lately, I look at the family history papers with an eye about how my son will look at them when I'm gone.

I think he'll be a whole lot more likely to hang on to the flashdrives than boxes and cartons of reams of paper.

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About 7 p.m., all the windchimes in the garden began jangling.

I looked out the window. It was dark.

The patio umbrella and American flag were threatening to go airborne.

Ditto chair cushions on the front deck.

I raced outside, collapsing and securing said umbrella, and gathering chair cushions...stowed them in the cottage and went back for the flag.

Had just taken the flag off the mount when the most spectacular bolt of cloud-to-ground lightning I've seen in a while zapped close enough to me to feel it in my fillings.

I stood there amazed for a few moments.

Until I realized I was clutching a five foot metal flagpole.

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The journey is good.

And you get a few more miles of it if you don't tempt Nature...

Namaste.

Have been coming home each evening to find both hummingbird feeders empty.

These are 16 ounce feeders.

I kept looking for the legions of hummingbirds, and not seeing them.

This afternoon I arrived at the cottage earlier than usual, and found out who was *really* swilling down all that nectar.

Squirrels.

Most likely young ones who are only about 6 to 8 weeks old.

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So I rearranged the way I was hanging the feeders. Instead of on the deck rails, which made such a handy perch for the little shit I saw guzzling as I drove up, I moved the feeders to free-standing shepherd's hooks in the garden and moved the hanging plants there to the shepherd's hooks mounted on the deck rails.

And generously greased the poles with vaseline.

I hope the mama and daddy squirrels have fits with the juniors all hopped up on sugar water tonight...