The Scenic Route, Part Two

If you have a choice of two things and can't decide, take both.

       -Gregory Corso

The Scenic Route, Part Two

I JUST WANT TO GET THERE.  I just want to get out of this car and into the snazzy The Opal hotel and show these guys the town that is one of my favorite cities on the whole planet and wash the stink of Modesto’s Chateau Six off of me and maybe do some laundry because we are all beginning to smell like the dog who was clean when we left Arizona but has become funkier and funkier the longer she sits in the back of the car next to the cooler, poor patient thing.  I chose The Opal because it is called The Opal and opal is my birth stone and I thought that was a good sign so I called them and sure enough they had a room not too expensive and AAA discount and fine with the dog and very friendly not snooty. 

The freeway is wide open and nothing is holding us back and everyone is in a good mood and talking about the Golden Gate Bridge and when are we going to cross it?  Somebody mentions Alcatraz and I’ve never done that and I’m totally into that idea since I’m traveling with a bunch of boys and I know they would really enjoy it.  The last time I did SF was on the way down to Arizona with my son then four years old and we did a four year old’s tour of San Francisco which included the Pez Museum, yes, there is a Pez Museum just outside of town, a little hole in the wall very cool place that you really must go to next time you are there (Pez Museum), and then tons of time spent at the Wharf specifically Pier 39 which is designed to entertain children and take all of your money while you are just relieved that you have found something for the kids to do while you sit down and eat an overpriced crepe with nutella.  Thank God for the Aquarium (Aquarium of the Bay) which doesn’t really cost all that much and you can walk through tunnels of jellyfish swimming all around you and above you and pet the rays and anemones and starfish in the tank upstairs if you aren’t too skittish and don’t mind getting wet just a little.

The outdated satellite navigation system which I want to update but it’s gonna cost ninety bucks so I keep putting it off does find the hotel but announces it just as we are passing it so we have to drive around the block a few times on a bunch of one way streets while it keeps telling us to turn the wrong direction according to the map.  The weather is cool and sunny and just what the doctor ordered as they wait in the car while I check in and oh what a relief to press the brass buzzer and be let into a proper lobby with nice antique furniture and opulent carpeting and plush sofas and potted plants and for a moment I remember what refined means again and I think of my great aunt, the one with the beautiful crystal goblets that I inherited and still use to this day even though I only drink grape juice and not sherry in them.  The dog is really gonna like this place.  Let’s stay for two nights.

It doesn’t even bother me that they are putting us in one of the pet rooms in the back of the hotel because seriously this is still miles and miles nicer than any Chateau Six I’ve been in and anything would be better than Modesto and even this pet room in the back of the motel is pretty swank although we don’t have a good view but that’s okay because it will be quieter and the kids just watch TV anyway and we won’t be spending that much time in the room because we want to see the sights.  The bathroom has mirrors all the way to the ceiling and it’s so old school it feels like we are in a time capsule and I could be Grace Kelly and he could be Cary Grant if Cary Grant had tattoos which I’m sure if he had he would have made them look very classy.  I wonder if they would have made Grace Kelly stay in a pet room if she had brought her dog. 

So I change out of my shorts and t-shirt and put on a nice dress from Anthropologie which looks more expensive than it was and some nice strappy black patent leather Tahari sandals to show off my cheap Vietnamese pedicure and a great big fancy ring that became mine only after everyone else in the family died.  I swear if anyone ever tries to steal it from me I will give them a black eye with it first.  Add to that some more jewelry that I collected when I worked for a fabulous jewelry designer in Seattle (Susan Goodwin Jewelry) because everyone knows it’s all in the accessories and everyone judges you by your shoes.  All this to wander through the halls looking for the laundry room because I’ll be damned if I’m gonna pay someone three whole dollars to wash a single pair of my underpants but I don’t want anyone to know what a cheapskate I’ve become.  Me.  Grace Kelly.  Cheapskate.

So anyway at some point we finally get everyone all cleaned up and head out to find the cable car which isn’t very far away but as we’re walking we realize we’re staying in a really nice hotel in a pretty bad part of town although it’s difficult to tell nowadays because it all looks pretty nasty.  I swear back in the 80’s it was a much cleaner, sparklier, brightly colored place and I think it’s because that was before everything happened like the AIDS epidemic and the internet and the dot com bubble and the crash and the big earthquake.  Even the Starbucks looks run down.  But this town is known for rising up from the dust it just keeps going and people keep arriving to replace the ones who leave and they’ll never ever finish painting the Golden Gate Bridge. 

Somehow we all manage to not fall off the cable car and the boys even get to ring the bell which is so cool and I don’t even think they realize what lucky little bastards they are just because everyone thinks they are so cute but after several days packed in a car with these wild animals their cuteness has temporarily worn off for us.  And we’ve nixed the guided tour to Alcatraz because we’ve found out that it costs a small fortune and in June all that happens is the seagulls crap on your head and it smells bad and after all it’s just an old abandoned prison how depressing.  We head straight for the Wharf and wade through the crowds to that Pier 39 where all the action is and look there’s a submarine and look there’s a museum of old arcade games (SF Mechanical Museum) and look there's Ghirardelli and look there’s a guy painted all silver pretending to be a robot and look let’s go to the Aquarium and two hours later we’re starving to death and he wants to get oysters on the half shell but I warn him that June has no R in it and the last time I ate raw oysters in a month with no R in it I ended up puking my head off in the restroom so let’s not.  And I don’t want to argue about it I swear it’s not just an old wives’ tale it’s true and I don’t know why it is but I’m not gonna ignore the rule because I think somebody wiser than me figured it out a long time ago so get the clam chowder and the pan-fried oysters instead and we’ll share. I don’t care what the kids want they can have hamburgers or pasta forget about them they have no idea what they are missing just eat your food and enjoy the sunset. What do you mean you are cold I told you to bring a jacket we’re not in the desert anymore so you should wear layers!

The dog is back in the hotel room relaxing in luxury when we finally stumble in around 11pm because it’s a Sunday night and the cable cars run late but not frequently. Oh my gawd hurry up brush your teeth get to bed it’s super late and we need to get up tomorrow so we can do lots of stuff it’s our last day in San Francisco and we want to do it all.  And as we lie there in our two separate queen sized beds surrounded by children and dog he announces to the room, “I guess I’m not really a city person” which of course I already knew because he lives out in the country on an acre of land with chickens and goats and I think to myself here I am again in my favorite city with somebody who doesn’t really want to be here, which was pretty much how it was a few years back when I asked my husband to take me to San Francisco for my 40^th birthday and he hemmed and hawed so much I ended up having to plan the whole thing myself and found a cool cheap hotel close to Union Square on the internet whose main attraction was that the whole place was painted lavender but when we got there they put us in one of the upper floor rooms that hadn’t been redecorated yet so it just looked like any other grungy hotel and instead of asking for a better room he just went into a snit that lasted for the first three days of our trip and he didn’t snap out of it until he saw the huge parade of people marching through the city protesting the war.  So I think to myself, “Why do I always come here with people who don’t like it?” and I try not to think about the 80’s when I came here with my first serious boyfriend and fell in love with the place and stayed in love with the place even after he broke up with me and I gently shove my boy over further because he is hogging the bed and I try to not think about what Grace Kelly and Cary Grant would be doing if they were staying in this room.  There certainly would be no kids and no dog and just one bed and they would not be sleeping, that’s for sure.

And I realize I'm not really much of a city person anymore either.  I miss my garden.

Stay tuned for Part Three…

Yeah.  It was just like this.

 Mesmerizing.

Original material © 2011 betsylolafalanadowling.blogspot.com, Brain Fuzz & Betsy Dowling, All Rights Reserved

Grace Kelly & Cary Grant in Alfred Hitchcock's To Catch a Thief (1955): http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0048728/

Thank you for reading my blog.  Anybody need a writer?

Donations accepted through paypal at seattledowling@gmail.com.

I need to get that sat-nav updated.

The Right Plant in the Right Place

Whither goest thou, America, in thy shiny car in the night?


- Jack Kerouac, On the Road

Among us gardeners you will often hear the refrain, “It’s all about the right plant in the right place.”  What we are saying here is you can have a fabulously successful garden that will give you fewer problems if you can just match the natural requirements of the plant with the conditions of the site where it will be planted, i.e. soil requirements, height and width of mature plant, sun, shade, and water needs, etc.  Gardening in the desert has been especially fascinating to me as I’ve learned about desert-adapted plants that prefer poor soils and actually thrive in extremely parched conditions. 

You know, the more I get involved in gardening, the more I personally relate to the plants.  I know it sounds a little kooky, but I couldn’t help but think of myself in plant terms when I moved (against my better judgment) from Seattle to Portland.  I was sooooooooo embarrassingly homesick and I felt like I had been torn up by my roots and transplanted in a strange garden where I wasn’t really thriving.  So when the marriage blew up and my heart was torn out of my chest and stomped on the ground, I decided what I really needed was to completely uproot myself and start over.  And somehow I ended up on another planet called Arizona.  But can this moss-covered third generation northwest native adapted to cool temperatures and heavy rainfall punctuated by occasional sun breaks and Ivar’s clam nectar survive and thrive in a desert environment…and for how long?

After nearly two years in the desert I still feel unsettled.  My friends in Washington say, “Come home!”  My friends in Arizona say, “Don’t go – we need you!”  My friends in Oregon and the Oregon Department of Motor Vehicles say, “Make up your mind!”  Ha!  Make up your mind?  Dude, I’m a Libran.  When presented with a smorgasbord of opportunities I grab three plates and take a spoonful of each one.  (Have you ever seen me at a wedding reception buffet?  Stand back!) 

One thing is for sure:  I can’t work in 110 degree weather.  So it seemed like the best thing to do was go home for the summer.  See my friends and family.  Recharge my batteries.  Go for a swim in the lake.  Ride ferries.  And, like 75% of the rest of the folks who live in Arizona, I found a house sitter and split town just as it was heating up. 

Well, I gotta have my car and I gotta have my dog.  And usually, given the choice between flying and driving, I will choose the road trip and take the scenic route.  So now, for our mutual pain and pleasure, excuse me while I channel my inner Kerouac to relate the experience of driving home in a car stuffed with two adults, two children, and a three-legged dog.

The Scenic Route, Part One…

OH HELL NO I’m not going to begin at the beginning my God I can’t even remember the beginning.  Somewhere in Arizona we filled the cooler with ice and snacks and the tank with gas and cleaned the windows and we just started driving driving driving until we got to Joshua Tree and found some big rocks and let the boys run around and yelled at them to get down and don’t break your teeth and please I just want to get you to your father in one piece and stand here let me take your picture but watch out for rattlesnakes and hurry up get back in the car cuz we’ve got to get to the motel in Twentynine Palms cuz we’ve already paid for it godammit and they have a swimming pool and a hot tub and where’s the dog somebody please get the dog in the car and gimme a poop sack. 

Current Fascination aka Semi-Serious Non-Relationship and his nine year old Evil Angel of a son are our companions on this road trip from hell, this epic journey to the West, this coastal quest, this endurance test of our friendship and our parenting skills in this careening silver Subaru soon to reek of Sweetarts and salt water taffy and sweaty three legged dog where’s the dog get the dog in the car and gimme a poop sack.  First stupid night at Le Chateau Six in Twentynine Palms where pets are accepted no questions asked and no extra charge and we’ve already managed to lose the road atlas how can you lose a road atlas they are so huge?  It was right there on the bed last night I swear it was and you saw it too and we tore apart the whole room and all the bedding and it is totally gone how bizarre there must be a vortex here. 

Current Fascination has travelled to parts of Europe but not around this country much and he is so excited to get to Yosemite and see the geyser that goes off every hour and I cringe when I realize he thinks we’re going to Yellowstone poor guy already thinks he’s stupid even though he’s not but he says his parents raised him like a mushroom.  Kept him in the dark and fed him shit. 

I’m not his mama but I knew his mama and it breaks my heart every time he tells me stories about what really happened to him as a kid and I want to undo all the damage and start his life afresh and re-build his self-esteem but I’m not his mama and I’ve already got a kid and yet I have to break it to him that Yosemite does not have any geysers but there is a beautiful waterfall and lots of trees and huge rocks and maybe we’ll see a real live bear and please keep the dog in the car.  And I promise him that one day I will take him to Yellowstone and then we will go to Jellystone and see Yogi Bear and maybe Boo Boo too if we are lucky.  But first we need to go to France to see his grandmother before she dies.  He’s got the money and I’ve got the air miles.

When he told me all the places he wanted to see and said he would pay for the trip if I would do the driving but he could only take seven days off work I said no way buddy we gotta have at least ten days in case there are delays there are always delays on road trips especially with kids and dogs like my dog had diarrhea for four days on the way down to Arizona so please tell your boss you gotta have ten days and I promise I will get you there alive and home on time so you don’t get fired and why is your boss being a butthead about this when he doesn’t have enough work for you anyway?  Then he wanted to rent an RV and pull my car behind until I did the research and dude do you know how expensive that is and it would leave us no money for treats and adventures and museums and restaurants and I told him dude you are high maintenance and that got his attention thank God cuz Jeezus Christ I did not want to drive an RV pulling a frigging Subaru on that winding coastal highway.  We woulda been Those People, you know the ones you get stuck behind because they can’t go fast enough up the hill.  I’m not old enough to be Those People yet.

Driving up the east side of the Sierra Nevadas and it looks like there’s nothing out there but I know better cuz I’ve been here before a long time ago with some old boyfriend and there’s actually so much to see and do like tons of hot springs everywhere but we don’t have enough time for that so we bust a move to Mammoth Lakes where we can see the slopes and they even have snow and we can venture up to Mono Lake and float in the salty water and climb on the Tufa stacks and oh crap it just snowed at Yosemite and they closed Tioga Pass and we can’t get out of here until Saturday morning oh well the Chateau Six is pretty nice here and Mammoth is beautiful so let’s just enjoy it and stop bitching about everything I swear you are all such complainers keep it down in the back I swear you kids are so ungrateful we just gave you candy and you just want more more more and it’s never enough please clean up the back seat it looks like a homeless encampment put the wrappers in the trash bin and keep your toys in that box and why are there Cheetos everywhere and who spilled the water? 

Two nights in Mammoth and the lakes and the waterfall and the gondola ride and the pizza and the cable TV and we’re hitting ourselves cuz there’s no time to ski and I forgot to learn how to ski and anyway I don’t want to break a leg and we finally make it to Yosemite where there is snow everywhere and it’s stunningly gorgeous and there’s some absolutely insane guy skateboarding down the steep pass road at breakneck speed and I seriously think we’ve just witnessed someone committing suicide because how the hell is he gonna stop?  Twenty three bucks to get into the park but it’s worth it cuz it’s beautiful and we have to go this way anyway and then it’s a straight shot to San Francisco we should be there by four pm and let’s stop at this river and everyone have a pee and wow look at the scenery let’s take some pictures and run around in the snow and hurry up get back in the car where’s the dog somebody please get the dog in the car and gimme a poop sack.

Let’s just quickly go left here and we’ll just quickly take a look at Bridal Veil Falls and Half Dome yes it’s a big rock and no I don’t know what they did with the other half of it and oh shit why is there so much traffic here how do we get out of here I don’t want to get stuck in traffic go left here no they won’t let us through what the hell is going on why is there so much traffic it wasn’t like this twenty years ago why do they keep letting cars in it’s just getting worse this is crazy I have to go to the bathroom again just keep it idling and I’ll be right back but don’t leave me if it starts moving again.  Listen to the radio to see if we can find out what’s going on oh my God I can’t believe it’s like a parking lot has it really been three hours???  Just a second I’m getting a text message who is it from oh it’s my friend in Scottsdale what does he want?  He wants me to send him a naked picture? What is he talking about what is wrong with him is he drunk?  Dude, that is gross and obnoxious and disrespectful and just because I let you pay for dinner last Monday doesn’t mean you can treat me that way and I am stuck in a traffic jam in Yosemite godammit what the hell is wrong with people these days?  I am furious when we finally get out of there and demand my money back from the ranger who gives me a complaint form to fill out and godammit I will because they should stop letting people in when it gets that crowded and now we are behind schedule again and we have to stay at a really crappy Chateau Six in a really crappy part of Modesto because it’s the only thing available on such short notice and we are all exhausted but the boys are super excited when they find a dead cat under a bush next to the parking lot and I just want to get the hell out of there and away from Chateau Sixes and I get on my computer and manage to find a lovely boutique hotel in San Francisco that accepts dogs for ten dollars extra which always cracks me up because my dog is perfection and it is the kids they should be worried about.  The Opal Hotel SF

Push on to San Francisco oh my Gawd we are almost to the coast don’t stop for anything let’s just get there and find our hotel and go down to the Wharf and I really want seafood any kind of seafood and some clam chowder and we gotta ride a cable car but wait the dog needs to pee no don’t get out of the car just stay in the car this is just for the dog everybody stay in the car and somebody give me a poop sack.  Stop arguing and keep your hands to yourself I swear it is like you are reading from a script I swear I’m gonna invent a card game for road trips and call it Cliché and every time you guys say stop copying me and stop touching me and he’s crossing the line and stop looking at me I’m gonna hand you a Cliché card and you will have to read a new script and change the subject.  Now put that stick down I said put that stick down hello can you hear me?  Now get it out of his face put that stick down now or I will take it from you get it away from his eye and I know he is being obnoxious but you are as bad as he is so give me that goddam stick!  Now stop crying I did not hurt you, you hurt yourself cuz you were being uncooperative and I have a witness so don’t you dare say I hit you cuz it’s a lie and you know it and as God as my witness just get back in the car!

Stay tuned for Part Two…

Hunky Jesus!

Oh, sweet blasphemous San Francisco.

Original material © 2011 betsylolafalanadowling.blogspot.com, Brain Fuzz & Betsy Dowling, All Rights Reserved
Image of Hunky Jesus available at http://crushable.com/other-stuff/the-daily-wtf-hunk-jesus-calendar/

Youtube video of the eternal Judy Garland singing the Trolley Song in Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0037059/
Thank you for reading my blog. Please make checks payable to Betsy Dowling or make your donation through my Paypal account:  seattledowling@gmail.com (Hey, I'm not too proud to beg.  The kid needs oral surgery and braces and Daddy has still not won the lottery.)

Temptation: Carmen de Anguis Jewelry

I can resist everything except temptation.  - Oscar Wilde

I have been blessed with mostly healthy temptations, and most of them involve sugary substances, quality footwear, and a diverse field of attractive men, therefore I usually give in to them sooner or later.  (Current Fascination is a hunky young fellow who has a sweet tooth just like mine - a potentially dangerous combination for my figure.  And I've had long-term relationships based on far less than this, so who knows? )  For instance, I am tempted to eat an entire box of Ding Dongs for breakfast, but I won't because I know it will just spike my blood sugars.  But I will have one after I eat my granola with raspberries on top.  Okay, I'll probably have two.  

For me there is merely a fine line between temptation and inspiration.  Like, right now I am so tempted to plant raspberries.  In the desert.  But people do it here, so why shouldn't I?  The only thing holding me back is how much it will spike my water bill...and also a strange superstition I have about planting raspberries, but I'll save that for another post.

I am tempted to get a mohawk like my son got on his visit with his dad.  I am tempted to dye purple streaks in my hair.  (Actually, I did do that once.  I usually pride myself on being all natural, but years back when we moved into a very conservative town I had purple streaks added just to rattle the neighbors.  It's good to stand out from the crowd.)  I want to move to Venice and work in a flower shop like the lady in Bread and Tulips.  (This may have to wait until my son is out of school.)

I want to be a go-go dancer.  I want to take singing lessons.  I want to learn how to ride a motorcycle.  I want to learn how to surf.  I want to sleep in 'til 10am every day.  I want to go on a cheese-tasting tour of France.  I want to spend an entire summer attending Shakespeare plays in Ashland, Oregon.  Or better yet, The Globe in London!    I want to use my baby grand piano as a dining table.  I want to sign my son up for ballet lessons while he's still too young to hate me.  In my opinion, these are all positive temptations, so don't be surprised if someday you see me dancing in a cage wearing a shimmy dress and high boots.

Now here's a little something you won't find on Amazon.

I have so many really gifted and creative friends and I love to promote their work.  For instance, Seattle-based artist Angela Piszker creates a very unique line of jewelry called Carmen de Anguis.  (If you know me personally you've probably noticed some of the necklaces I wear - the one with the little sterling-framed Buddha is one of her pieces.)  Angela's attention to detail and quality workmanship make each piece a tiny treasure.  Her most recent line features vintage botanical prints, Turkish tiles, and butterflies.  Just look at this lovely peacock pendant!

(Oh my gosh I'm so in love...)

You can read more about Angela and view and purchase her exquisite, modestly priced necklaces and earrings online at etsy.com:

CarmenDeAnguis

OK. Time to yield to another recurring temptation...

GET UP AND DANCE!
You know you want to.

YUM.


Original material © 2011 betsylolafalanadowling.blogspot.com, Brain Fuzz & Betsy Dowling, All Rights Reserved
Image of raspberry from http://bakerbarth.wordpress.com/2010/07/27/cupcake-hero-august/

Bamboo

Notice that the stiffest tree is most easily cracked, 

while the bamboo or willow survives by bending with the wind.  

- Bruce Lee

Have you ever been set up on a blind date by one of your “best friends” who told you all about how the guy is really good looking and he’s a perfect gentleman and he’s got a sailboat and he’s majoring in international business and he’s really into Eastern European literature?  And then he shows up for the date half an hour early in his brother’s Trans Am and he’s got a chin like the prow of the Titanic and a cooler of hard liquor between the seats and he tells you the story of how his last girlfriend ran over his dog while he makes a wrong turn up a one way street and then you get stuck on a tour boat in Puget Sound with 50 of his closest fraternity brothers and no matter how much you push him away his hands are crawling all over your body until he drinks himself into such a stupor that you are thanking your mother for making you put that cash in your wallet so you could take a cab home?  I have.

Well, as an edumacated landscape designer and gardener with some experience under my belt, that’s not the sort of best friend I am.  I will be honest with you when it comes to the issue of bamboo as a potential love match for you and your garden.  I will not tell you that bamboo has a sailboat and will make all your dreams come true.  I will tell you about its pros and its cons.

Bamboo and I have a history.  We go way back.  You could even say we have issues. 

Allow me to preface my remarks by saying I actually adore bamboo.  Really, I do.  It is remarkable stuff, one of God’s gifts to humankind.  However, as with plutonium, you have to establish boundaries with bamboo.

Clearly I’ve experienced some sort of bamboo-related trauma.  After years of therapy, I now feel safe enough to discuss it openly. 

It was the summer of my 18^th year, just after high school graduation.  I should have been out having a great time with friends, swimming in the lake and trying to get a real tan, but instead I spent the whole time digging out the dwarf bamboo that my dear mother had planted in the rockery off in one corner of the front garden, which had by this time spread across the entire front yard with the fervor of a drunken college boy.  It had finally gotten on my last nerve and no one else was dealing with it effectively, so I decided to tackle the project myself.

Now, bamboo is a grass and grasses grow and spread underground via their root systems.  If you miss even the tiniest speck of bamboo root, it will sprout again…and again…and again.  And as I mentioned in an earlier post, I learned that Round-Up will not kill bamboo.  So the only solution is to dig, pull, repeat, dig, pull, repeat, dig, pull, repeat.  You do this until it does not sprout anymore.  And if you can’t get it untangled from the root system of another shrub or tree, your best bet, short of bringing in the backhoe and removing the entire tree, is to accept that you have one spot of bamboo that will require eternal vigilance.

Somehow, all by my little self, I managed to remove all that bamboo back to two little spots – one in the rockery and one tangled up in the root of the cherry blossom tree.  Good enough.

There were also two stands of a larger clumping bamboo which looked very smart when they were young, but grew out of proportion with their location and one was too close to the house, wreaking havoc with the foundation and the rock wall that kept the front yard from sliding down into the driveway. *  In later years, when it came time to remove these unholy mofo’s, it took an able-bodied husband with a pick axe followed by several visits to the chiropractor.  (This may have been one of the minor events that, combined with a multitude of other minor events, finally led up to our divorce.  Loved him dearly, always will.)

Listen, folks.  I’m not trying to talk you out of planting bamboo in your garden.  I mean, it’s gorgeous stuff and there’s nothing like it to give a garden that instantly lush, tropical feel.  It’s iconically graceful beauty provides a wonderful privacy screen, it grows pretty fast, and you can use the wood for so many different things.  I’m just saying PLANT WISELY.  As with all things, it’s about the right plant for the right location.  So before you plant that beautiful clumping bamboo next to your back door where it’s going to send its roots right through to your kitchen sink, do a little research (or hire a professional) and think it through.  And the last thing you need is bamboo roots running under the fence and coming up in your neighbor’s lawn.  They will not like you for this and will talk about you behind your back at the annual block watch party. 

Everyone tends to define low maintenance and low litter a little bit differently.  One fellow loves to rake leaves, but for the next fellow it’s his personal hell.  Let’s look at some photos of bamboo that has been left to its own devices for several seasons.  This is in the desert and is receiving very little water.

Notice the accumulation of leaves and how tightly the trunks grow together.  

Here is another photo of the same kind of bamboo that receives probably weekly or monthly maintenance and plenty of water (the kind of thing you see at that cool restaurant that employs a team of landscapers to maintain the patio garden).  In this photo the leaves have been cleared and the trunks thinned substantially.  (This isn't the best representation of well-manicured bamboo I've come across, but it'll do in a pinch.)  I think it's kind of magical when you see a large area of well maintained bamboo in a garden.

If you are hell bent on planting bamboo in your garden, choose a spot where it will be able to grow to its full glory without disturbing the peace of the neighborhood.  And I strongly recommend using a root barrier.  There are many nurseries that specialize in bamboos in all their diversity as well as the accoutrements required to keep it contained.  One in particular stands out in my mind and their website is terrific.  It's the Bamboo Garden Nursery in Portland, Oregon:

The Bamboo Garden Nursery

Let's see what they have to say about root barriers:

Bamboo Root Barrier Installation

If I have (unintentionally) scared you away from planting bamboo, but you still want the look of it in your garden, consider the alternative of using structures or furniture made of bamboo wood instead.  It is a most sturdy and long-lasting substance.  You can build all sorts of things with it. 

Bamboo is unsurpassed as a renewable resource.  You can find bamboo flooring, furniture, umbrellas, chopsticks, wind chimes, chopping boards… the list is virtually endless.  I even have luxurious bed sheets made of bamboo.  I typed in “bamboo” on Amazon and it came up with 71,514 results!!  Here are a few of my favorites.

Oh, I could go on and on.  There's almost too much to choose from.  You get my point.  (By the way, the bamboo sheets are fabulous.)

But wait, there's more...

Dick Van Dyke is truly scrumptious.

YOWSA.

*Not all species will do this, but this is my personal experience with this particular species of bamboo.

Original material © 2011 betsylolafalanadowling.blogspot.com, Brain Fuzz & Betsy Dowling, All Rights Reserved
Image of Bruce Lee from http://www.oneinchpunch.net/2007/10/28/10-kick-ass-facts-about-bruce-lee/
Bruce Lee quote from http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/b/brucelee132153.html

The Crowded Garden

Sometimes gardeners get so excited when they have a new space to work with that they just want to grow everything at once.  There’s something to be said for instant gratification, but try to remember to leave enough space for your plants to grow to their full size.  There’s nothing more difficult to maintain than an overly intricate garden that has to be pruned and thinned constantly.  I recommend establishing the main feature plants of your garden first, and then while you are waiting for them to reach maturity, fill in the gaps with wildflowers that are easy to grow from seed.  It really is a lovely effect.  Be sure to pick out wildflowers that are appropriate for your zone.

SAVE ME, SAN FRANCISCO!

Listen.  Don’t move to Seattle.  Please.  People invariably come to visit in the summertime and they are charmed by the beauty of the place on a sunny day and immediately start making plans to move there.  Then they get there and find out that for the other nine months of the year we are completely immersed in a dense cloud cover and drenched in freezing rain, hail, and sleet, you can’t wear nice shoes because they will get muddy and ruined and your entire wardrobe has to shift from leather and suede to Polarfleece and Goretex.

If it does actually snow, it will then turn to ice and you can’t drive in it because of all the hills and the buses go sliding sideways, killing all the pedestrians on the sidewalks.  (I heard last year’s pedestrians-hit-by-bus death toll approached 4,000.  The mayor’s office suppresses these figures, but I know for a fact there is a watery mass grave of victims under the 520 bridge span that goes through the Arboretum.) 

Visitors naively take the elevator to the top of the Space Needle, the only tourist attraction in town, completely unaware that HUNDREDS of people have fallen off of that thing to their untimely deaths while their poor little children look on.  (The Space Needle doesn’t report these figures, of course, because it would be bad for business.)  I was momentarily upset with a tour guide on a Harbor Tour boat who described the Space Needle as “an amazing waste of space,” until it suddenly dawned on me that he was doing us all a HUGE favor.  If you must go to the top, pack a parachute.

And obviously something about the climate and the topography conspire to create maniacs.  We have more serial killers per capita than all of the industrialized planets combined.  (Read Ann Rule's book about Ted Bundy, The Stranger Beside Me, to really freak yourself out.)  It has become such a regular pastime of Seattleites that, in addition to the Preschools for the Performing Arts and Massage Therapy that have become popular, there is a new chain of Preschools for the Proliferation of Serial Killing opening up this fall.  Nowadays, when you go for a walk in the woods with your dog, you’ll even see dispensers for biodegradable body bags at the trailheads next to the poop sacks.

Seattle is home to corruption and graft and always has been.  The streets are filled with the dregs of society.  We even coined the term “skid road” to describe our nicest neighborhood.  (Reading Skid Road by Murray Morgan right now.  It makes me wonder if us non-Native Americans really have any right to be there at all.)

Clinical depression in Seattle is a constant battle for those who move here from out of state.  The gloomy weather brings everyone down, and to top it off they all start using drugs to lift their spirits, which just makes matters worse.  To quote my old friend, Brian Miller, “Being a heroin addict in Seattle is totally redundant.”  Most people have to purchase special Happy Lamps to combat their Seasonal Affective Disorder.  And I don’t think they even work, because people still complain about the weather.  I mean, if you move to Seattle, don’t complain about the rain!  It’s like me moving to the desert and complaining that it’s too hot.  Which of course it is, but I knew that coming in!

Finally, if I hear one more out of towner complain that Seattleites aren’t friendly, I’m gonna punch him and his elderly mother right in the nose. 

So, for anyone who is considering a move to Seattle and you haven’t actually spent an entire winter there yet, please take this advice from a native:  consider San Francisco instead!   It’s just as pretty, if not more so, is way more gay, has the bay and the hills and all the fresh seafood and Chinese food you can stand, the traffic is just as bad, has warm sunny days because you are in California, and then the fog rolls in to cool you down so you feel like you are in Seattle without actually having to live there.

There are enough earthquakes to keep you on your toes, just like Seattle, but you don’t have to worry about the volcanoes.  They have real beaches where you can surf, not sand spits covered in stinky clams.  It’s more cosmopolitan and sophisticated and best of all, it’s even more expensive, so your friends will be doubly impressed.

And it that doesn’t float your boat, try Portland.


(Wow!  Don't you love how you can find almost everything on Amazon?!)

THIS IS TOTALLY PHOTOSHOPPED.  IT NEVER LOOKS LIKE THIS. ASK ANYONE.

This is more like it.

Original material © 2011 betsylolafalanadowling.blogspot.com, Brain Fuzz & Betsy Dowling, All Rights Reserved

Credit for image of Space Needle pending research.

Image of rainy Seattle by Melanie Connor for The New York Times. 

The Garden of Good and Evil

In my last Seattle garden, I had a wickedly evil plant called a Voodoo Lily.  It was beautiful and grotesque at the same time.  It would come up in the Spring and when the gigantic blossom finally opened it reeked of rotting flesh.  Apparently this flower pollinates not by attracting bees with a sweet smell, but by attracting flies with a horrific stench.  It was a volunteer plant on the south side of my house near the gate to my back garden, so I left it there to stand stinky guard against anyone who had evil intentions of entering my back yard.  (We didn't live in a very safe neighborhood.)  Ironically, it bloomed at the same time as my humongous star jasmine vine.  When you sat on the back porch the combination of smells was confusing.  At first you would feel like you'd entered a garden of paradise.  But if you sat there for too long you just wanted to hurl.

Voodoo Lily

Well, for some not completely explained reason, Google AdSense has terminated my account with them.  No warning, no clear explanation.  Perhaps they didn't like my content?  Too bad.  I used to really like Google.  Anyway, they say there was "invalid click activity" on my account.  When I talked about the ads on my page in a previous post, I didn't mean for everyone to click away like crazy!  Oh, well.  I submitted an appeal and they still terminated me.  Live and learn.  In the meantime, it looks like my Amazon Associates account is still in good standing, so let's see what we can buy today...

Oh, this looks good!  The Lucifer Effect - Understanding How Good People Turn Evil.

I will continue to write this blog and try to find other sponsors.  I have so much to tell you about and I'm really enjoying making you laugh!

(By the way, love love love John Cusack...

... but did you read the book???)

Is there still hope for us, John?

Original material © 2011 betsylolafalanadowling.blogspot.com, Brain Fuzz & Betsy Dowling, All Rights Reserved
Image of John Cusack in the film Serendipity directed by Peter Chelsom from www.imdb.com
Image of Voodoo Lily courtesy of Rural Ramblings blog:  http://www.ruralramblings.com/voodoo-lily-magic

Technology in the Modern Garden

Here in the desert you have to think a lot about water.  There's not very much of it.  The most difficult thing for me to wrap my head around when I was in Landscaper School at the Desert Botanical Garden (www.dbg.org) was the concept of irrigation.  Being a Northwest Native, I'm used to just digging a hole, sticking the plant in the ground, and waiting for it to rain.

Now, I'm really not a stupid person.  Dumb, but not stupid.  So when I'm having trouble with a concept, I like to immerse myself in it.  Therefore I began volunteering at the Garden in the Irrigation Department and now I totally get it.  (Please don't tell anyone that I know how to do irrigation repairs - it's not really my bag.)

What impresses me the most is the modern-day control boxes.  I recently repaired a residential irrigation system for a client, and she needed a new control box.  I was very pleased with one of Rainbird's boxes.  Clearly they are the industry leader for a reason.  This one is totally idiot proof!  (We found it at Home Depot, but guess what - Amazon has it too!) The only drawback is it doesn't have a cover, so if you are using it outdoors you have to install it in a weatherproof box.

Oh, I am so ashamed.  I have failed as a mother.  All of my best laid plans were for nothing.

Long before I started a family, even long before I got married, I had decided that I would keep those God-forsaken video games out of my house.  I can't stand them!  Never could.  And it's not just because I had a bad experience in college when a blind date abandoned me in a pizza parlor and I finally found him in the back of the restaurant playing Ms. Pac-Man all by himself.  Loser.

My personal experience with video games ended with Pong.  I much prefer real life table tennis.  There's nothing like the real ping and the real pong to get your adrenalin rushing.

So anyway, I'm afraid my much younger first husband (loved him dearly, always will) introduced our son to video games at the tender age of four, much to my chagrin. (Now you have a hint as to why we divorced.)  And not only did he introduce him to video games, he introduced him to a "first person shooter" war game.  And then he couldn't figure out why our son was becoming violent.  It took some explaining, but he finally got the picture.

Of course I realize there's no way I can completely avoid video games.  And if want my son to be able to compete in the modern world he needs to know how to play them.  Heck, for all I know, he may become a video game designer someday and become stinking rich.  I am quite aware that they are designed to be addictive, so nowadays I allow my son to play up to half an hour of video games in a day.  I'm delighted when a whole day goes by and he hasn't asked for it.  And I have this (unreliable) theory that if he plays one "nice" game, then a "mean" game, and chases it with another "nice" game, then maybe he won't grow up to be Hitler.  (Although now that I think about it, maybe if Hitler had had video games it would have distracted him from marching into Poland.  Hmmm...)

Imagine my surprise and amusement when I overheard my now six year old son playing a video game on the computer recently:  "Mommy, I need to evolve!  I need to evolve quickly!"  I thought to myself, "You got that right."  But then I got curious.  Turns out he was playing a game called Age of War.  Here, verbatim including misspellings, are the game instructions:

Age of War

The goal of the game is to survive and destroy the ennemy base.

The game is divided in 5 ages.  To move to the next age, you need Xp points.  To gain these points, you have to kill ennemy units.  You also gain Xp points when one of your units is killed.  You can also build defences.  Finding the balance between defence and offence is the key.

You will also be able to use a special attack.  This attack will need time to be available again after you use it.  Each age have its own special attack.

You cannot repair your base, but it will gain health points everytime you evolve to the next age.  Protect your base at all cost!

Click here to return to the menu.

Oy vay.  Time to go read a book.  How about a little Maurice Sendak?

I'm afraid I still don't understand the appeal of video games when real life is beckoning at your front door.  But I'm not going to immerse myself in it.  Too busy figuring out everything else.

Rock on.

 © 2011 betsylolafalanadowling.blogspot.com, Brain Fuzz & Betsy Dowling, All Rights Reserved