New Arrivals: The Coccinellidae novemnotatas aka THE LADYBUGS

In the photograph posted above, all arrows are on a teeney tiny Coccinellidae novemnotata aka ladybug, which is perched on a leaf of my Farfugium japonicum 'Cristata' plant — a lovely plant that "resides" in the southeast portion of my urban terrace garden. The picture was taken before seven o'clock in the morning last Friday — the morning after I had released ladybugs into my garden. Juan V had suggested I use ladybugs as a means of getting rid of some pests that were starting to nibble on my Farfugium japonicum 'Cristata' plant as well as other things which grow in my garden. Since I am legally blind, I do not always notice such things until it is too late, so I was grateful he made me aware of the munching pests, as well as for his suggestion that I bring on the ladybugs.



Prior to Juan V's suggestion, I had not realized that ladybugs were good for combatting plant munching pests. In fact, I had not realized that all ladybugs have    "special organs on their feet to help them smell", or that they "use their antennae to touch and taste". 


I also did not realize that ladybugs "chew from side to side and not up and down like mammals do" — at this moment in time — the ladybug's method of chewing would be a problem for yours truly, because, as you may recall, from a previous post in which I wrote about the Spilanthes oleracea plant, I have recently had a tooth extracted. This tooth was on the lower left side of my mouth, and since its extraction, I have not been able to afford the follow-up treatment needed, which has limited my ability to chew. Whatever ability I did have to chew as a result of the tooth extraction, was curtailed this past Saturday morning, when a bridge in the upper right hand side of my mouth came out while I was brushing my teeth; making the ladybug's method of chewing virtually impossible.


Apparently ladybugs — during hibernation —  feed on their stored fat, now this action,  I suppose, is something I could do as I have plenty of stored fat in my belly. (BTW, my sources for the aforementioned ladybug facts as well as much more information regarding them may be found by going to this link.)


Speaking of eating, it seems ladybugs are quite the noshers and can eat up to 4,000 aphids in their lifetime (read more by clicking here). As I stated earlier, I have not seen any aphids in my garden due to my poor eyesight; but from time to time I've seen some consequences of their having been in my garden, so I welcome the ladybugs to my terrace garden, and I encourage them to do their thing. The ladybugs seem to be enjoying my garden, as indicated in a few photographs where they can be seen on the leaves of my Yellow Rose Bush, as well as the leaves of my Physocarpus opulifolius (Coppertina) Tree, my Strawberry Plant, and on the pod of my Echinacea Plant. These pictures were taken before the camera-shy creatures headed into the soil for their "real food"  and they are posted (respectively) below.

Perhaps ladybugs feel comfortable in my garden as they are true New Yorkers in that they are our state's insect, or perhaps they are comfortable in my garden because, like the ladybug, I have spots which are due to the fact that I have the neurological condition known as Neurofibromatosis Type One (NF-1) which is something I have referred to in a number of previous blog entries, including ones which you may go to by clicking here, as well as here, and here and here, or to see all of my posts regarding Neurofibromatosis, click on the label in the labels menu (on the left hand side of all blog postings) bearing that name.


Because of my NF-1, I have six cafe´-au-lait spots; but as for the ladybug and its spots, here are some interesting facts (which I discovered in the link that I posted in the fourth paragraph of this blog entry): "most of them have red, orange, or yellow wing covers with black spots, some are black with red spots, they usually do not have their spots for the first twenty-four hours of their adulthood, and the spots on the ladybug fade as it gets older." 


Unlike the ladybug and its spots, the cafe´-au-lait spots of someone afflicted with NF-1 do not fade, ever, but, fortunately for me — because I have an olive complexion — they are not very pronounced. However, what is pronounced, are the thousands of lumps and bumps which appear all over my body as a consequence of having this medical condition. These lumps and bumps are referred to in the medical community as neurofibromas. They are fibrous tumors that wrap around any nerve ending and push up through the skin causing lumps and bumps in varying sizes o appear everywhere, giving one afflicted with NF-1 the appearance of having a case of Elephant Man's Disease.


Since NF-1 occurs at birth, I have obviously had it my whole life, yet I am often taken off guard when someone refers to my appearance. As it happens, i was at the Greenmarket this past friday, and one of the farmers asked me if I was from Queens, which is one of the five boroughs of New York City. I told her that I did not live in Queens, but I also inquired as to why she asked. "A man I have seen living there has your skin condition", she replied gesturing at my lumps and bumps. Perhaps because I was caught off guard, the hurt and shame that I have felt as a result of having this condition welled up inside of me as I tried to explain to her that what she saw on my body was not the result of a "skin condition" but was tumor related as a result of a neurological condition.


While there are many remedies — such as ladybugs — out there to protect gardens from aphids and other invasive pests, I've yet to find a remedy against human cruelty towards those who suffer from a physical condition. According to Wiki, "In many countries, including Russia, Turkey, and Italy, the sight of a ladybug is either a call to make a wish or a sign that a wish will soon be granted." 


Hmmmm . . . I wonder if . . . 

Good Saint Anne, July's Rain IS your Dowry . . .

Today, July 26th in the Western Calendar is the feast day of Saint Anne (her feast day is July 27th in the Eastern Calendar), a feast day that she shares with her husband Joachim. The image posted above today's blog entry is a screen shot of a pencil sketch of the beloved saint, titled Saint Anne after Leonardo Da Vinici , by an artist who calls herself Trish. (For information on this image or to view other works by the artist, please click here).


Saint Anne is the mother of the Virgin Mary, and grandmother of Jesus Christ, according to Christian religions; however, her name is not mentioned in the canonical gospels. Among other things, Saint Anne is the patron saint of "childless couples", giving them "special aid in obtaining children", and, perhaps, she was instrumental in my sister and her husband's successful adoption of two Russian children, whose voices I "showcased" in a blog entry that I made about the use of "voice cards", which I made this past January (that you may hear by clicking on this link). Their adoption came through after much bureaucracy and heartbreak, which were both preceded by several futile years of unsuccessful in-vitro fertilization treatments.
My knowledge of Saint Anne is not nearly what it should be, given that Bella, the woman whom I have done volunteer work with for nearly eight years, had a sister whom was named for Saint Anne. Bella's sister died nearly eight years ago after a battle with pancreatic cancer, but for many years prior to her death, she did the volunteer work which I now do.

However, even though I do not know as much about Saint Anne as I should, I am aware that prayers seeking her intercession often begin with the salutation, "Good Saint Anne . . . ";  and I have also been (on a few occasions all of which were quite some time ago) to The Shrine of Saint Anne, located inside a Catholic church known as St. Jean Baptiste Church , which is on the Upper East-Side of New York City. In the month of July, every year — for the past 119 years — beginning on the Sunday of the week prior to Saint Anne's feast day, folks come  to St. Jean's, "in the fervor of their prayer", from all over the world to participate in a novena dedicated to Saint Anne. This year's novena to Saint Anne, began on July 17th 2011, and it will end this evening, after many events throughout this day. The schedule for these can be found in the aforementioned link associated with St. Jean Baptiste Church.


I have recently read that Saint Anne, because, she is associated with fertility, has had her patronage extended to soil, and I was surprised to see the number of places on-line that offer Saint Anne soil, as well as Saint Anne soil treatments, although I have never seen these products in any of New York City's urban gardening centers — including ones located in the famed flower district. However, as an urban gardener, my learning of Saint Anne's "relationship" to soil, is of interest to me. Soil, as you can imagine, dear reader, is of critical importance in any garden, but it is especially important in a container garden, such as the type of garden owned and tended to by yours truly. Basic garden soil compacts really hard; therefore, water does not get through the roots properly. Since potting mix is compact, water penetrates more easily, which is crucial to me, for, as you may recall from previous posts (including one which you may read by clicking here), I water my garden by hand.


In any event, all bags of soil are cumbersome and heavy. Consequently, getting soil to my home via the New York City buses or subways (or often on foot), is no mean feat, and it is one similar to how I've described my bringing various containers, as well as my herbs, vines, plants, flowers, shrubs, and trees, into my garden, in a blog entry that I made this past June, which you may refer to by clicking here. As I have done with both the things I grow in my garden, and the containers in which I place them, each bag of the soil I use is carried by yours truly up seventy stairs to my studio apartment where I have my terrace garden. Therefore, by my having filled over sixty-containers with potting soil, you can imagine that I got quite a work-out, but I am by no means complaining; what I glean from my herbs, vines, plants, flowers, shrubs and trees is worth every bit of effort. 


Moreover, transporting is part of the deal in having a roof extension terrace garden like mine. Once upon a time, I met a woman who lived in a loft apartment on Sixth Avenue. Her apartment was very spacious, but, like mine, it was a walk-up. The woman was a cyclist, and hence she carried her bike up and down the stairs every time she wanted to cycle. "It's part of the exercise," she said to me when I questioned her about how she felt about schlepping her bike up and down the stairs. During the years that I was acquainted with her, I did not have a garden, but now that I do, I think of her statement from time to time — especially when I bring heavy bags of soil, large containers, or even my larger shrubs and trees, up my stairs — but for the most part, I don't think about what I have carried. I am too absorbed in the beauty of the things that I grow to think of any "struggle" involved in my endeavor. Upon reflection on this morning's feast day, I am beginning to think that maybe even without my invoking Saint Anne's intercession in my gardening efforts she has been helping along.


Meanwhile, it is my understanding that Saint Anne's influence on gardens is so powerful that "in Italy, rain is Saint Annes gift", and in Germany, "July rain is Saint Anne's dowry", I am not sure if either association is true, or web-hearsay. However, I do recall that when I was in Italy short-durationed downpours of rain occurred almost daily during my vacation; and while rain is not often welcome when one is traveling, having seen the beautiful natural surroundings of the country causes me to realize why Italians might attribute rain as "Saint Anne's gift."


As for Germany's alleged take on July rain, and calling it Saint Anne's dowry, I had a similar feeling about the rain when it fell in New York  City yesterday — on the eve of Saint Anne's feast day —  the rain, much needed, broke the oppressive heat wave that has blanketed New York for the past several days — a condition I have referred to in recent blog entries which you may refer to by clicking here as well as here and here.


Often New York City Summer rain leaves the city even hotter than it was prior to the rain, but yesterday's rain, perhaps because it was a precursor to today's feast day, has, for now, left an amazing peace and calm throughout the city, and especially my garden as evidenced in a few of the many photographs taken during yesterday's rain, and they are posted below.

'Tamukeyama'

Continus Coggygria (Smokey Bush AKA Grace)

Avellana corylus (Contorted Hazel Nut AKA Harry's Walking Stick)

 Southeast Grouping:

"Back Row": 

Avellana corylus (Contorted Hazel Nut AKA Harry's Walking Stick) and Wire Grass

"Front Row":

Farfugium japonicum 'Cristata', Salad Greens, and Strawberries

Creeping Thyme

Juncus  effsus (Unicorn Soft Rush)

Lessons Learned in the Garden on Mother's Day (Mother may know best)

It is Mother's Day, and my seeing my Paeonia suffriticosa (Tree Peony) enjoying its friends is cause for a pleasure to be shared — probably like a pleasure mothers have in taking photographs of their children and sharing them proudly with anyone and everyone who is kind enough to view them — as you are, dear reader, in viewing my chronology of this season's Paeonia suffriticosa and other things that are flourishing in my urban terrace garden.

My Paeonia suffriticosa is truly enjoying her friends, as evidenced in the photograph posted above, which shows a view of the most southwest corner of my terrace garden. It appears to me that my Paeonia suffriticosa is bending down, to give my Fancy Leaf Coral Bells aka Heuchera 'Marmalade' a kiss; a kiss much like the kiss I gave my sister soon after she was  born, and a gesture that inspired my mother to take the photograph posted below of yours truly with my younger sister —

— a woman I've blogged about in a previous post and where the same photograph is posted.





Meanwhile, as you can see in the "group" photograph at the top of this post, even though my Paeonia suffriticosa is kissing my  Coral Bells, they are hiding between my Farfugium Japonicum, or 'Cristata', as her friends call her ('Cristata' can be seen in the lower left portion of this photograph, but you may remember her from a previous post), and my Tulips which are just in front of a rod iron stand that supports a clay pot that is home to my Rubius calycindes (Ornamental Raspberry), who as you may recall can be a real Diva as the growing season moves forward.




Additionally in the upper right hand corner (of the picture at the top of this blog post), please note the "hint" of the magnificent burgundy color of my Continus Coggygria, whose burgundy leaves provide a beautiful setting to show off my Paeonia suffriticosa, a detail not lost on her, as she basks in her glory, enjoying the company and contrast of my Continus Coggygria as evidenced in the photograph posted below — another photograph of kissing shrubs.

My Paeonia suffriticosa isn't always this loving toward her comrades, and they surely need to wait until she wipes the sleep from her eyes — an image I captured when she was'nt looking (seen below) before she gives them any kisses.

This image of my sleepy-time friend really makes me think of my mother, who constantly had a camera in her hand during my early years of childhood, and took pictures of my sisters and me doing anything and everything, which is a fact that I wrote about in a blog entry titled, Thoughts on the Creators of Photo Albums this past December. 






Even though it seems I have many photographs of my garden, the fact is I don't alway enjoy taking pictures of it because I am too busy just enjoying the moment of my herbs, plants, shrubs and trees that bring such light to my life, something I often wished my mother would do instead of being behind her Kodak Instamatic. However, on this Mother's Day, I've learned something, and like my flowers, I've grown too. What I have learned is this: while indeed sometimes the camera can be a barrier between a photographer and his/her subject, when I see the pictures coming into my computer from my Eye-Fi Card, I am thrilled — reliving the joy I captured. So today, I give out a shout to my mom — and to all moms who spend time behind the camera, capturing relationships and preserving memories for all time.

My Well-Read Farfugium Japonicum 'Cristata' Mimics Oliver Twist

New York City has certainly experienced April showers in the past few days. More like April downpours, but out on my urban terrace garden, my Farfugium Japonicum (known as 'Cristata' to his friends) seems to be extending its leaves asking for more rain as  evidenced in the photograph posted below.

His leaves reminded me of the hands of the young Oliver Twist from the Charles Dickens novel of the same name. Perhaps you can see a similarity by comparing the extending leaves above to this photograph (copyright details here) posted below of a lad portraying Oliver.

However, the comparison stops there as my Farfuguim Japonicum, unlike Oliver Twist, was not kidnapped, but raised in a nursery in Bayside Queens, where he received plenty of care before making the trip with me in 2009 on the Long Island Railroad to join the plants and shrubs in my terrace garden.
He can be seen below with my Rosmarinus officinalis (Rosemary), 

an herb used in a variety of culinary creations, and one that I often harvest to give to clients and friends because, besides being a great culinary asset, it is a symbol of friendship, as I have indicated in a previous post.


The unusual yellow flowers that you can see in this 2009 photograph of my Farfugium Japonicum are his pride and joy. Perhaps that is why he extends his leaves during the April rain, for he surely knows that April showers bring May flowers.