Unknown Cactus: Cathedral cactus

 

This is a beautiful old cactus.The spines along the edges of the stems make it look almost painted. I asked the grower how long she'd had it and she could not remember besides "several years". She reports it as very hardy but neither oF us know a name for it.

Someone told me this is a Cathedral cactus, but I was unable to confirm by looking at google images. A lot of different plants are called cathedral and rather than a specific cactus, I believe the term cathedral must refer to the growth habit. It sure grows in a way that reminds me of cathedral spires.

Lid Tree

 

This Lid Tree has adorned my yard for several years now, and I add to it as plastic lids become available. The lids are on a chaste tree that is going downhill slowly and has quite a few dead twigs. I started this as an effort to cheer the tree up and back to health, but I don't think it is working. I enjoy it especially in winter when the wind blows and the lids swing and jerk about. No one has ever mentioned it to me and I am sure it is because it is so stunning that it leaves people speechless.
But after seeing the "Found" art at Jan Dempsey Art Center (in particular the one in the OA News made from plastic jug ring seals) I knew I must be onto something. I thought it was quite wonderful.
I am giving the Worst of Show to the melted plastic lawn chairs.
My Best of Show goes to Mary. Hers was a collection of animal and insect homes mounted on a hunk of wood. She must have been collecting this stuff for years and years. There were all sorts of shells, wasp nests, dirt dauber nests, bird nests, empty circada shells--O you name it.You need to examine it closely and for that reason, I am not supplying a bad picture of a wonderful piece. Go see the show before it closes on Valentines's day. The gallery is open most days. Maybe every day through the week. here are a few pictures to whet your appetite.

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Bottle Tree

 

I recently put together this bottle tree. Although I was pleased with it, it pales by comparison to the ones on this website.The diversity is incredible . The original thought was that the bottles would trap evil spirits at night and then unable to escape, would be killed by the morning sun. But,if you are interested further, click on Mr. Felder's history link .

Jackson Similax

 

This vine's common name is Jackson's Smilax or Jackson vine. Taxonomists call it Smilax smallii, lately changed from lanceolata.Its cousins are vicious, with heinous thorns that will pierce and tear. When you are stuck by one of these thorns, it sends a chill over you similar to a wasp sting.This smilax however has no thorns except a few at the base. The stems which can grow 25 feet in a season have no thorns.These vines remain evergreen and make wonderful Christmas decorations. They have been used historically for this purpose. They are easily twined over the mantle or around a banister or a wreath.Unless they are kept out of the sun and kept watered or misted, they will not last more than a week or 10 days. Jackson's smilax was used before the advent of plastics and were quite wonderful for a Christmas season that lasted a week or less. It is not used as much now but is still a beautiful vine for decorating.The name is reported to have come into use when Stonewall Jackson came into town and the vine was used for decorating at parties and dinners.The vine is now used some to twine over entrances to homes.
The only way I know to harvest the vine for decoration is to yank it out of the trees. This is not always easy, but it can eventually be wrenched loose from it's lofty perch in the trees. I spot it after leaf drop in the fall. It is in the treetops gleaming a bright green . It has huge underground tubers like all other smilax vines, but these tubers are woody and are more like underground trunks than a dahlia tuber. The plant can not be popagated from these woody storage organs. Just get some roots and a piece of vine,if you want to move one to your yard.

Daffodils vs Jonquils

The question of what to call those yellow things that are starting to bloom now is a question that bothers some so I thought I would try to muddy the waters a little more.
Jonquils is a name that strictly applies to Narcissus jonquilla and a picture can be seen here. These have round leaves instead of the flat blades of the more common daffodils. Apparently these jonquils used to be more common but have now been replaced by daffodils. I have never seen any jonquils for sale (of course I have not looked everywhere) but I have seen them at old homesites. In fact there are some in my yard along with oodles of daffodils and paperwhites left in neat rows around what used to be the yard of the first house that was here. Jonquils are smaller than daffodils and intensely fragrant.
Many an old homesite is marked only by clumps of daffodils. They persist with no care, year after year. The house whose yard they graced, gone now, eaten by flames and fungi. Even the foundation rocks and chimneys are gone, pushed out of the way or confiscated for another purpose. Yet, each spring the daffodils push up through the fescue, through the kudzu, a bright remembrance of the lives that passed in joy and sorrow in this forgotten place.
And that is why I want you to plant daffodils in your yard. Plant them as a testament to the tenacity of life itself, and plant them as a remembrance of me.

Wordsworth's The Daffodils

I always liked this poem and this is a good time of year to review it.

W. Wordsworth

The Daffodils

I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees, 5
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay: 10
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee:—
A poet could not but be gay 15
In such a jocund company!
I gazed, and gazed, but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood, 20
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

My First Daffodil

 

Daffodils may be my favorite flower. I certainly have loved them longer than any other. When I was a child I waited eagerly for the plump buds to spring open in my grandmother's yard. She had oodles of them dripping down the slope in the back of her house. They were even growing in a wide swath across the road around the vegetable garden. I picked huge handfuls and took them inside to Granny. As far as I remember Granny never had any flower arrangements except the ones I picked for her. Sometimes she seemed a little surprised but she always accepted them with a smile and found some container to stuff them in. I can see them in my mind's eye, packed in a tight bunch in a glass. They stood out in happy contrast to the dark dresser and the white vanity cloth that covered the dresser top. Granny liked flowers, but I suspect that she liked them better outside. I surely liked them inside and out, just as I do now.
Granny did have some plants in pots. One was an asparagus fern. There were others too, but she kept them in a flower pit in the winter and on the front porch in the summer.
Daffodils signal the end of winter for me. As I have often said, it is good that I do not live in a place with "real" winter. They start to bloom in January and February and unless you have many different late varieties, they are done by the end of March. Even though the weather may turn cold, even into the teens, and the creeping cold and wet has not left yet, daffodils give hope that it will be too warm very soon.
For years we planted more daffodils every fall, and now there are clumps everywhere randomly placed across the front yard. Just when you think you have the pattern figured out, they pop up in the wrong place. It was a wonderful tradition and only laziness keeps me from continuing. In the fall when they should be planted, the ground is often hard and dry. Some places require a pick ax to pierce. I never cut the front yard till the foliage begins to dry. By mid May the yard has begun to look ratty and unkept, but like my great grandmother who wouldn't allow the garden to be plowed till the poppies finished, I refrain from using the mower over the daffodils till they begin to dry. The flowers next year are worth a few weeks of untidy grass. Not that I care that much about lawns anyway. That's one of the good things about country living- nobody is going to complain about my uncut grass. The main reason to keep grass cut is to keep the snakes at bay. Someone once told me snakes hated the noise of a lawnmower. I rather think it comes down to not having enough good hiding places.