Welcome Back, Welcome Back, Welcome Back! Another Cardinal Climber (aka Ipomoea sloteri) Has Returned!

The newcomer to my urban terrace garden today is a vine which is currently "divided" into nine small planters that are sitting in a Mixed Nuts carton (given to me by the grower) on top of the marble table that I have in my terrace garden, as seen in the photograph posted above today's blog entry. They are waiting for Juan V to help me plant them into their new home. It is only 7:43:10 in the morning,  and already the temperature indicated on my little garden thermometer (a thermometer that I wrote about this past Tuesday) is quickly moving past the 80 degree mark , as seen in the photograph posted below.

The temperatures, in New York City, where I live and have my terrace garden, are predicted to pass the 100 degree mark, with a "real feel " of at least 105 degrees; and so at this point, in the summer of 2011, New York City officially joins the number of states in America, that are being plagued by prolonged periods of heat and humidity.


I realize my blog is not an NYC-Accu-Weather blog, nor am I a meteorologist, and instead I am a photo-artist, writer, as well as an urban gardener, but, the "connect" is this: gardening and weather conditions, as you are undoubtedly aware dear reader, are very much interrelated. If I didn't love the things which I grow in my terrace garden so much, I might spend a hot and humid day, like today, on the boardwalk at the Jersey shore standing under the watering can (such as the one pictured below)

and enjoy being watered; instead of hand watering my sixty plus beloved herbs, plants, flowers, vines, shrubs, and trees. For now, to cool off, instead of going to the beach, I will have to bring the beach to me, and picture myself being under the boardwalk's watering can's cool spray.
In any event, as for today's terrace garden work, Juan V and I plan to put the new arrivals into three eight-inch sized clay pots that previously provided a home for my Honeysuckle Vine, which we had to remove last week, as discussed in a prior post that you may refer to by clicking here.


Two of the three clay pots (the third is off camera) that had especially appreciated my beloved Honeysuckle Vine, as well as the bare trellis which it used to climb upon, are eagerly anticipating the arrival of the newcomers, which can be seen in the images posted below.

Today's newcomers are, acording to the grower, "a hummingbird's favorite" and are known as Cardinal Climbers (aka Ipomoea sloteri). They are very similar to the Maiden's Feather, a Cypress Vine (aka Ipomea quamoclit), and they are from the Morning Glory family. It has been a long time since I have put anything from the Morning Glory family in my garden; however, I have referred to them in a post that you may review by clicking here.


Many years ago, my aunt sent me some seeds for the Cardinal Climbers, and the seed's packaging can be seen in the photograph posted below.

The seeds did very well producing delightful, beautifully scalped, green leaves and red flowers which flourished in my garden, trailing up an exhaust pipe (which looks like a pole) in the northwest corner of my garden) where my H.F. Young Clematis has resided for a number of years. (I have written about my H.F. in a number of posts, including ones which you may find by clicking here as well as here and here.)


I confess that I did not take any photographs of my garden during those early green-thumb years because I actually did not even want to take time out from tending to what I grew to photograph them. (However I did take — as well as print — black and white as well as kaleidoscopic-color photographs of other things which you may view in the  various print collection pages on my web-site, Patricia Youngquist Photo-Art where purchase information is available.) Hence, dear reader, as for my early endeavors with the Cardinal Climbers, you will have to picture in your mind how they might have looked trailing up the pole, and perhaps the images you create in your imagination wil be better than ones I might have captured.


In any event, regarding the fate of my Cardinal Climbers, I only grew them from seed in that location for one season, because, for one thing, the following season neither my aunt nor I could find seeds for the Cardinal Climbers within our choices of gardening centers and hardware stores in the areas where we each live. This was unusual since my aunt lives in a relatively heavily populated northwest suburb of Chicago, and I live in New York City. Moreover, as for finding the Cardinal Climbers seeds on line, I was not Internet Literate during those years.


Be that as it may, at that time I also decided to plant perennial vines in "the pole location", so, in the years that followed, I  did this by planting varieties of Clematis: 'Candia' (Clematis lanuginosa) and H.F. Young Clematis respectively, and so the story of what grows in that location of my terrace garden, as they say, is history. . .  


Therefore, I was resigned to having no more Cardinal Climbers grow in my terrace garden until I met a talented man, named Jay P, who found a grower that could offer me the plants. This was in 2005 or 2006, and ultimately this vine, once again, flourished, but in another location (southeast of the pole) in my terrace garden. I still was not photographing my terrace garden at that time; however, I recall the Cardinal Climbers thriving and flourishing, as well as their beauty, in the mental slideshows within my mind. Lovely as they were, because they are an annual, I decided to put a perennial vine in the southeast location, and that is when I planted my Autumn Clematis — the one I've referred to as Donna's Legacy — which I ultimately photographed and blogged about in an entry that you may refer to by clicking here.


I realize the aforementioned is a rather lengthy back-story on how I came to know the Cardinal Climbers and so, tomorrow morning, when Juan V and I are well past the activities of today's terrace work, and If I don't melt away from the oppressive heat, I will post pictures of how the new arrivals look in their new digs.


Meanwhile, dear reader, if you live in parts of the world which are affected by a heat wave, HYDRATE, HYDRATE, HYDRATE!

"It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information."

According to Oscar Wilde, "It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information," and, with that in mind, my blog post today is designed to right that wrong, and to provide you, dear reader, with what might be some useless information, as I may have done in some of my previous posts, in the guise of having you think you could apply it to your own endeavors. For example, both this past April 2011 and December 2010, in blog entries which you may refer to by clicking here and here respectively, I shared with you some thoughts and images on how I enhanced my indoor succulent garden.

This little garden, as you may recall, is a little  garden which "rests" on humidity trays that have been placed a-top of an old (two-hundred plus years) armoire that I have under a cold/warm lighting system in my kitchenette. I maintain this succulent garden with great care as I do with my outdoor terrace garden.In any event, upon reflection of the aforementioned April 2011 and December 2010 blog posts, I wonder, what made me think that my ideas for enhancing my succulent garden would spur you on, dear reader, to add trinkets to your succulent garden? Do I have any real business in presuming what you may or may not want to do with your gardening projects? What makes me an authority in the area of indoor succulent gardens, other than the fact that I like them, and that I am wise enough to know that if I like something, there are others that like it too, and that I also realize that if I appreciate the sharing of ideas, others most likely do as well? 



Having clarified this point brings me to the first two photographs posted at  top of today's blog entry, which are views of my indoor succulent garden with a fairly new trinket arrival — a miniature sculpture of a bathing beauty in a 1920's style bathing suit — shown at two different vantage points in my succulent garden. It is a nice trinket to have, and to use to decorate my terrace garden during a non-traditional holiday time, and so I share this admittedly non-prolific and possibly  "useless piece of information" with you, dear reader, in case you find yourself in the position of wondering what to do if you have an indoor miniature garden and are fond of decorating it — but cannot find any useful information on the subject.




This unusual trinket was purchased (and I assume that all beach towns have gift shops that sell unique trinkets) and given to me by a dear friend, who contributed a photograph for one of my blog posts this past winter, that you may refer to by clicking here. Like yours truly, my friend's husband also maintains a succulent garden, and when I was with her in the beach gift shop and saw this unique figurine/trinket, I pointed out to her that he might enjoy a figurine for his project — an endeavor that I wrote about earlier this year (you may refer to this by clicking here) —  and she ultimately bought it for me as an early birthday gift.




However, while it is a blessing for me to have such a wonderful and thoughtful friend, and while my succulents are enjoying the new figurine, what use is this information to you, my dear reader? Hopefully, it will not only inspire you with your own endeavors, but it will also cause you to reflect on friendships which are meaningful to you. Meanwhile, fear not, if you are only looking for concrete-useful style information: Beach towns with boardwalks, although they often have an array of shops, also have signs that direct beach-goers with 'useful information' as indicated in the photograph posted below.

Then again, in keeping with my intent to right the wrong described in Oscar Wilde's quote about there being "so little useless information" — an intent laid out at the onset of this post with a "promise" to provide useless information, did you know, dear reader, that today, July the 15th, is Cow Appreciation Day? Well, at least according to Holiday Insights, today's the day, (source information found here), and, if I were a better marketer, I would have directed you, dear reader, to this fact, in an effort to "steer" you towards my photographic print Cow With Children, which can be viewed along with my other original photographic prints via the extensive print collection pages of my web-site, Patricia Youngquist Photo-Art where purchase information is available.

My photographic print, Cow With Children, has also been rendered into an impressionistic, all occasion greeting card, which can be viewed via the unique store-front pages, of my web-site, Patricia Youngquist Photo-Art, where purchase information is available. 




The image, Cow With Children, may look familiar to you, dear reader, as I featured it in a post (you may refer to this by clicking here), about a prominent cheese-maker couple who run Bobloink Dairy. The owners surely appreciate cows and the dairy products made possible by these animals, as well as the endearing role cows play with autistic children; however, I am not certain if the fact that today is Cow Appreciation Day has crossed their minds, for they are busy with their lives, bringing to my mind, another Oscar Wilde quote, "Most modern calendars mar the sweet simplicity of our lives by reminding us that each day that passes is the anniversary of some perfectly uninteresting event." This quote causes me to think that Oscar Wilde himself, while lamenting the fact that he could no longer find very much useless information in his day (evident by his quote about information which provided the title for today's blog entry), need only have looked to a calendar to provide him with that apparent loss — since there were no blogs at that time to give him the much needed useless information which he craved. (-;




With that thought, dear reader, I will leave you with two more Oscar Wilde quotes, because, even though he was born 99 years and 2 months before yours truly was, and he died at the beginning of the twentieth century, the same year my grandmother was born, his quotes are still prolific today; and without further ado, even though I set out to provide you with useless information, I have broken my promise by ending with the following inspiring and useful quotes from Oscar Wilde.

"I am not young enough to know everything"

AND

"I was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning,

and took out a comma.

In the afternoon I put it back again."

"Cows, Bread and Autism", Bobolink's Answer To What's Cheese got to do with it?

Last Saturday, June 18th 2011, I left you dear reader, with photographs of mouth-watering cheeses, (known as Drumm and Very Special Cave-Aged Cheddar respectively), and a promise to tell you a little bit about them as well as discuss the folks that make them in today's post. So, without further ado:

I have always liked cows and goats, but having had severe allergies since childhood has caused me to admire them from afar. However, once upon a time, after being given allergy shots, I was able to get close enough to some grazing cows and photograph them, and one of the resulting images was my photographic print, Cow with Children, as seen in the first image at the top of today's blog post. This image has also been rendered into a greeting card and both are available for purchase via my web-site, Patricia Youngquist Photo-Art (patriciayoungquist.com.). For specific information on the photographic print, please click here, and for information on the note-card, please click here.

Fortunately, my allergies stop with where these animals graze, and I am able to indulge in the cheeses they produce. "You have a friend in Cheeses," (a play on words of the old time hymn, What a Friend we Have in Jesus), is a "slogan" on "base-ball-style-caps and T-Shirts that a cheese shop in the West Village of New York city sells, and today's blog post explores, a "friendship" related to cheeses which has evidently given Jacob ("Jake") White a lease on life. (More on this later.) Jake is the son of Nina and Jonathan White, who are cheese makers at Bobolink Dairy, a business that now includes rustic bread baking, and a business that they have named for the spirited bobolink song bird whose image is imprinted on the labels they use when wrapping cheeses (this can be seen in the photograph posted below) that they sell at a Greenmarket that serves Tucker Square in the Upper West Side of New York City (where I live) on Thursdays and Saturdays.

The Whites also sell their delicious products at other greenmarkets in New York City, and New Jersey (where their farm is located), as well as via their web-site, cowsoutside.com ,but it is the Tucker Square location, where I first met Nina White, pictured in the photograph posted below, where she can be seen holding a sign that usually is propped up on a table where she sells the yummy cheeses and breads.

The cheeses are seasonal, and the ones being offered at this time of year are Drumm, Very Special Caved Aged Cheddar (again both of those were pictured in last Saturday's blog entry, the other two being offered as of today's posting are Armram and Tower of Bobol as noted on the left-hand side of Ms. White's sign and pictured below respectively.

On the right-hand side of the sign, the Whites give a shout out to local growers whose ingredients they use in their bread. Local is right. Some of the growers that are mentioned also sell their products at Tucker Square. This year round  outdoor market is "the gateway to the Upper West Side" and, as per their web-site, I can attest to their fine offering of "seasonal vegetables" that "range from fresh staples to certified organic and Mexican specialties". The orchards represented at the Tucker Square Greenmarket, "boast sweet berries, stone fruit and over eighty varieties of apples." On many occasions, there are cooking demonstrations which offer unusual recipes and tastings, hence, this market is a great haven. And, like the folks who give the cooking demonstrations, Bobolink Dairy is very gracious in giving tastes of their unusual, distinctive cheeses, as well as making recommendations on what other foods would go best with the cheese of one's choice.

A unique thing about Bobolink is that not only do they offer tours of their farm, but they have internship programs which from what I've heard (straight from the mouth of an intern who moved from Oregon to the east coast to intern with the Whites) are empowering. The Whites are no strangers to the relationship between cows, cheese-making and baking, and empowerment, for these things have had a profound effect on their son Jake. As I mentioned earlier, they have given him a "new lease on life" — and a much needed one at that, for Jake, the eighteen year old son of the Whites, is autistic. I understand that "while he is quite intelligent, he has very limited speech capability, equivalent to a typical three year old." and that he is "very outgoing in matters that engage him" which apparently are "cows and baking". 

Their web-site states that "Jake seems to have a particular affinity with cows, and cows seem to respond well to him." As I read this, I thought about my image, Cow with Children (mentioned earlier in this post), an image that was created long before I had heard about Nina and Jonathan White, or tasted cheeses from their farm, Bobolink Dairy, and I thought about the unconditional love between cows and children, an observation not lost on the Whites, who also  indicate on their web-site that, in terms of Jake, the love from child-towards-cow is reciprocal: "hey they {the cows} don't even know that he has a speech handicap". 

Jake's passion for "kneading, baking, and most importantly eating baked goods" is the impetus for the Whites' recent move to a new farm. They write, "We hope to make a bright future for Jacob. In {our} extensive collection of old dairy and farm books, there are many photos of people working on farms and in cheese factories, who appear to have one learning disability or another."

The Whites take this one step further saying, "one photo that particularly comes to mind is of a young man in perhaps the 1950s, with biceps like Popeye's, operating a manual cheese press. His bright eyed, proud and smiling face belies the markers of Down's Syndrome, although their is no mention of it in the text. This young man had a good job and was proud of it. Nowadays, a Down kid or someone like Jacob is more likely to have a job putting parts in a bag on an assembly line. Agriculture and food production, in simpler times, had more room for people with disabilities. As modernity has taken its toll of the quality and flavor-fulness of food, it has also eroded the opportunities for those of us who are different."

"So, wish us well as we set out to set it right", the Whites ask. And so, with this post, I do wish the Whites well in their endeavor, for as you know dear, reader, I suffer from Neurofibromatosis Type-One as well as Legal Blindness, and  have written about this in posts which you may refer to by clicking here and here as well as here.I am painfully aware of attitudes towards disability — a word I would like to see changed to challenge. Physical challenged as opposed to disabled. Disabled is what they call stalled cars as well as stalled tractors, trucks, busses and trailers. "Disable it", is what techies and geeks tell you to do with a program in your computer when it is not functioning properly.

M y afflictions are mild compared to many folks, including some whom I knew personally including, Colleen Ormond, who died in November of 2010 from complications of her hydrocephalic condition, and my dear friend KM, who died last week after a long battle with near blindness and multiple sclerosis. (You may recall that I mentioned KM in a couple of posts this past May that you may refer to by clicking here and here (when I wrote about one of her sister's passing and now she too has passed away).

The Whites, in their unique attempt to give their son an opportunity to be the best that he can be, remind me of the mother of the dearly departed Jennifer Mahoney (who was born with Spina Bifida, and who died in an accident with her wheel chair, a fact that you may recall, dear reader, because not only was Jennifer an inspiration for my photographic work that was acknowledged by the American Printing House for the Blind, but she is someone that I have written about in a blog post which I referred to in a blog post that you can access here),  Mahoney's mother, as you may recall, spoke to me at her daughter's funeral and of her keen desire to let Jennifer live the fullest life possible, saying "I always knew that I was on borrowed time with Jennifer." 

And so as I conclude today's post, I hope you will indulge me in re-posting the image of Jennifer, 

who embraced life, but realized attitudes were the disability, and did not hesitate to voice her position, leaving a legacy at Hunter College where she was receiving her education before her untimely death. Now, perhaps, Jacob ("Jake") White —even with limited speech — will be able to leave a legacy through his work on the Bobolink Farm, which not only produces great cheeses and amazing breads to feed the body, but provides opportunities to nourish the soul and confidence of the physically and mentally challenged.

    

Tuesdays Thoughts: It me again, AKA "the lone white tulip" (with some thoughts on time)

Remember me? I'm the "lone white tulip" who wrote a blog entry (three weeks ago tomorrow), which you are welcome to review by clicking here, where I expressed my concerns about Sylvia Plath, the poetess, and of her accusing members of the Tulip family of having, "the mouths of an African lion", in her poem, Tulips. Tulips is a poem which Youngquist included in her April 26th post which you can reread by clicking here. My aforementioned concerns have been somewhat alleviated, because Youngquist addressed them (as she does with all of my needs) in her May 4th 2011 posting,Dearest Tulip, even you could not console Sylvia Plath, which you can read by clicking here.

Today, because my petals are starting to fall, I am keenly aware that I may be entering the last days of my life, because, as you may know, we tulips have a short life — and we are replaced by other ones in subsequent seasons.

That being the case, I want to take the opportunity to express my thoughts about what my life has been like in Youngquist's urban terrace garden — a terrace garden which is tended by her (your blogger under the title of The Last Leaf Gardener), as well as Juan V, a man she admires very much.

First, I want to express my thanks to Youngquist. Perhaps I should've done this within the Comments Menu of her blog, but I hope you will still hear me out. I am most grateful that Youngquist explained to me that sometimes you humans do not want to be be consoled when in certain instances grief or despair have taken overcome the individual. I appreciate Youngquist not only sharing the sorrow which Ms. Plath surely experienced, and by doing so, letting me know that Plath's feelings were beyond anything us tulips could do in terms of consolation (or anything else for that matter). What a relief it was for me to learn this information, and on behalf of my tulip-community, I'd like to say how relieved we, the tulip-community, are to know that our fellow-tulips did not fail their mission, yet I still feel sorrow that anyone was in such a depth of despair.

In any event, at this moment, some of the herbs, plants, shrubs and trees that make their home with me in Youngquist's terrace garden are giving me the heads-up, letting me know that I am getting too philosophical — at least for a blog entry, and now they are also reminding me that people don't read lengthy things these days. Pity, I say, because there is nothing like being a part of a garden where people come to read, and thankfully our gardener, Youngquist does spend time reading here, but I am digressing again from my original intention for today's post in which I want to discuss (briefly) my thoughts on borrowed time — since with my petals falling (as evidenced by the photographs posted below:

where a few of my petals can be seen on the black-topped surface which supports Youngquist's container-filled terrace garden), I am keenly aware that my borrowed time is closing in on me. What you see in the photographs above (in addition to my white petals), are yellow fragments (that were blown by the wind from where they were resting inside a peony flower from my gardener's Paeonia suffruiticosa, also known as a Tree Peony), a shrub whose flowers earned the rights for the cover page of my gardener's on-line brochure, as well as her downloadable brochure,where she showcases a collection of communication materials that she has designed (such as invitations that enhance any occasion, event program covers that preserve a moment in time, and greeting cards that are about more than communication), which she sells in the store-front pages via her web-site

Most of her communication materials are based on things she grows in her terrace garden, but like her Physocarpus opulifolius (Coppertina), I have not "made the cut" of those selected to be in those venues, although, I have heard Youngquist say that anyone can special order art prints, invitations, event program covers, and greeting cards using images of their choice from her blog entries. Therefore, if you like any images of me, her white tulip (and occasional blogger — at least Youngquist lets me post even if she does not feature me as an art print, invitation, event program cover, or even a greeting card), please leave her a comment, and I'll make sure she gets back to you.

I am digressing again! Back to what I was saying, the yellow fragments in the photograph with my petals are from my gardener's Paeonia suffruiticosa flowers. I've included a profile shot of one of the flowers which emphasizes the inner yellow part of the peony flower below,

and you might have surmised this to be the case because, the Paeonia suffruiticosa, in addition to being the cover girl for the Welcome Page of the on-line brochure and featured on the back page of the downloadable brochure, has been written about on so many occasions, including a DOZEN features: as evidenced by the following links:

May 7th, 2011

May 6th, 2011

May 3rd, 2011

May 1, 2011

April 16th, 2011

April 13, 2011

May 29th, 2010

May 22nd, 2010

April 24th, 2010

April 23rd, 2010

April 17th, 2010

April 10th, 2010

I have spent a lot of time discussing the Paeonia suffruiticosa thus far, however, my point in posting today isn't about my possible slight case of envy towards the Paeonia suffruiticosa. Rather, it's about sharing with you, dear reader, something I've learned being born a tulip, and consequently, knowing from day one that life is short (which is perhaps a reason I appreciate, as do the other tulips in this terrace garden, all the creation surrounding me, and, if I do say so myself, tulips are great at showing appreciation for life's constant surprising moments). If the world gave Facebook accounts to us flowers, and I were on it, here are a few of the photographs I'd show to share with you just some of the ways tulips embrace life:

"Excitement: Jumping for Joy"

"Kindness: Welcoming the Scent of the Rosmarinus officinalis — Rosemary Herb"

"Appreciation: Encore, Rosemary, Encore"

"Celebrating the Arrival of Antethun (Dill)"

"Awestruck: Getting a Closer Look (Starring Even) at the "Trailing Rosmarinus officinalis"

"Comfort: Resting in the Bosom of Paeonia Leaves"

So there you have it, dear reader, an inkling of some of the awesome moments we tulips have had in this terrace garden, appreciating life; knowing we only have a limited amount of time here. It's a hard concept to grasp, I realize, especially for folks who bear many burdens, but it can be done.


Maybe I am just a tulip, but I've come to learn a lot in the time I've spent in this terrace garden; however, I didn't come by this "borrowed time" insight on my own. I must confess that I came to it vis a vis a story I've often heard Youngquist tell her clients and friends about a woman who was the mother of Jennifer Mahoney. Jennifer is the subject of one of Youngquist's original Black and White photographs (which can be seen in the photograph posted below,

as well as in the Black and White Print Collections posted on Youngquist's web-site. In the photograph, Jennifer is with the man she loved who is blind. The photograph was taken of him by Youngquist at the request of Jennifer. Unfortunately, Jennifer, who suffered from a case of Spina-bifda, died before the photograph was printed. She died while in the throes of living — "running" around Manhattan in her motorized wheel chair — with her blind boyfriend in tow, in an effort to do her Christmas shopping. In the holiday rush, she misjudged the height of a curb which caused her wheel chair to topple upon her — killing her instantly.





"I always knew I was on borrowed time with Jennifer," her mother evidently told Youngquist when she attended Jennifer's wake, "and so I let her do what she wanted to do." This is a quote Youngquist recounted in one of her first blog postings in 2010 in relation to her own attitudes toward her endeavors in Black and White photography (which can be viewed here, but the quote is apropos today, as I, your blogging-Tulip, attempt to share the blessing in knowing the value of "borrowed time".

Perspectives on the Arrival of Spring

It has been nearly a week since the "official" onset of spring, but, in New York, the bitter cold temperatures would not indicate that we were having a spring at all.  Last year, on the first "official" day of spring, it was quite warm, and I wrote in a blog entry that "nothing was better at being the first harbinger of spring than the purple flowers poking out of the Chives plant which I have in my urban terrace garden", and I described how the Chive plant provided inspiration for a single-sided card that I designed. It can be viewed in the store-front pages of my web-site (where purchase information is also available). Today, as I reflect on this card and the chives that inspired it, I confess that agree with Chris who has "marked" it as an Easter or Passover card in those store-front pages, and I truly believe it might be a good selection (though very non-tradional) for an Easter or Passover card (both holidays are coming up next month) because, like those holidays, chives can be seen as a symbol of resurrection and renewal.
It is somewhat odd that I have come to this conclusion, at a time when resurrection and renewal do not seem close at hand given the long winter and the tumultuous state of the world; but history tells us that there will be a springtime, and springtime is a theme that I've used in my black and white photography (both in my collection of impressionistic note-cards and in my original prints like Springtime in the Greenhouse, which can be seen at the top of this post).

But signs of spring are not limited to first flowers, first buds, or nuances in a greenhouse; signs of spring are not even limited to temperatures; signs of spring often appear in subtle ways such as the arrival of spring as seen by E.B. White in an article he wrote fifty-eight years ago, March 27, 1953.


"SPRING ALWAYS USED TO ARRIVE in midtown in the window boxes of Helen Gould Shepard house. Something about the brightness and suddenness of that hyacinthine moment said Spring, something about its central location, too. The other day we passed the Gould House and shed a private tear for olden springtimes. Spring struggles into Manhattan by other routes these days; Rockefeller Center has pretty much taken the occasion over. Rockefeller's is different from Helen Gould's. Less homey. More like Christmas at Lord & Taylor's — beautiful but contrived. One never knows where one will encounter the first shiver and shine of spring in the city. Often it is not in a flowering plant at all, merely in a certain quality of light as it strikes the walls. We met ours quite a while back, late one afternoon in February, driving south through the Park; in an instant the light had lengthened and strengthened and bounced from the towers into our systems, hitting us as a dram of tonic reaching the stomach, and, lo, it was spring."


After reflecting on E. B. White's observations, what, I ask, dear reader, is to tell me, what's your first sign of the arrival of spring?

Station Identification: Pending

The screen-shot posted above (from a J Peterman catalogue) is included in this blog post because the sentiment spoke to me, and perhaps it will speak to you, dear reader, when like myself you find yourself having to explain (as a career consultant has asked me to do) who your "audience" is for your product and or blog.

As for my blog, I've already (in the first box and the right side-bar) stated this:"On this blog, I discuss how my gardening experience inspires and informs the images I create for my unusual line of invitations, event program covers, and all occasion greeting cards; as well as my impressionistic photo-art. (For details see patriciayoungquist.com). Sometimes I reflect on current events, or discuss what people I admire are doing. My 1st blog entry was 12.31.09, where I laid out my plan for this blog. Now, January 29th 2011, after 108 posts, I've changed the layout, and I warn you that I like long sentences, because when they stay on point (as I hope I do), they take you on a journey. I like to plant ideas, as well as seeds, with good care, and nurture them as they grow."



"Is your blog for gardeners then?," the consultant wondered. "Well, no," I answered trying to explain that a "gardener's blog" implies a "how to" content and while I occasionally might offer a how to posting, my goal in my making art or writing has never been to pigeon hole my audience by offering too much detail. In the first month of this blog post (January 16th 2010), where I discussed my position on describing my Black and White Photography, I stated that "I must confess that I do not like to talk about how I've created a print or why the composition has been rendered in a certain way in a given print. I feel too much information spoils the magic of not knowing. I think having knowledge of many specific details of a given work of art can interfere with the relationship a viewer has with the art work."

I feel the same way about trying to define an audience that might like to follow my blog. I do not think everyone is category crazy — or at least those who follow this blog — I put ideas out there but allow my readers to think for themselves. I guess I could tell the consultant that  my readership are those who are not category crazy. Wasn't it The New York Times that stated their content was "all the news that's fit to print" ?  And didn't Jerry Seinfeld have a following for a show about "Nothing"?


For now, I will say this about my blog: It is about Something. As for the audience that I target, I'll stick with J Peterman and file it under "pending . . . "

. . . there is always edit/undo and control (or command) "Z"

As I have stated many a time, designing cards that are about more than communication, invitations that preserve a moment in time, and event program covers that enhance an occasion, has led me to information about many traditional and non-traditional holidays. In several of these cases there are silicone bracelets to go along with such events, and, if you can't find the bracelet that suits your needs, the made-to-order possibilities are at your disposal — courtesy of the Internet — as evidenced by a photograph posted above of the silicone bracelet honoring Don't cry over spilled milk day, (a day associated with optimism) which incidentally was yesterday, February the Eleventh.
For this occasion, many folks indulge in dairy products and so they like my black and white card known as Cow With Children, based on a photograph that can seen via the Black and White Gallery (Photo #2) of my web-site where purchase information is available). This card is posted below to honor this day of optimism. 

It can be found in my on-line brochure as well as the storefront pages of my web-site where purchase information is available. Other folks chose to honor this day by sending a card that includes another dairy product — yogurt —as seen in the image posted below known as Early A.M.

My Black and White card, Early A.M. is also based on an original print (#30) which can be found in the Black and White Gallery pages of my web-site. As for the card, it can be viewed via my on-line brochure or in the storefront pages of my web-site.


If you missed Don't cry over spilled milk day, there's no need to cry over that; rather, revel in the idea that every day represents a holiday of some sort and an excuse (if you need one) to have a soirée or send a card. Besides, if you are a MAC user, when it comes to editing your artwork or prose, there is little reason to cry-over-the-spilled-milk of hitting the wrong key on the keyboard because there's always Edit/Undo and Command (or Control) Z for that — ah if that were only true in 'real-life' . . .