"If it's Tuesday, it must be . . ." tumblr. Week One

Cheers! Happy last Tuesday of September, a great "excuse" to have a Bees Knees, a cocktail whose recipe is from the 1920's, and can be seen pictured above in a unique tumbler. Speaking of tumblers,  I am happy to announce the latest "buzz" regarding yours truly, The Last Leaf Gardener: As of this Tuesday, and, from every Tuesday going forward, I will be posting on The New York Botanical Garden's blog which is on tumblr. At that location, just as you do here, you can read my posts, as well as view my new photographs. However, "over there" I have the ability to display my images differently, and I think, dear reader, that you will appreciate the esthetic.

Hence, from now on, every Tuesday morning, I will post a link from here, to take you to where I am located. Just remember, if it's Tuesday, it must be tumblr. The post which I am pointing you to today includes a recipe for Bees Knees. This "taste treat" was brought to my attention as a result of my being mesmorized by the bees in my urban terrace garden, pictured above enjoying the Hyssop in my garden; and, as you may recall, "my" bees have been mentioned in previous entries on this blog. These entires can be found here and here respectively.


And now, without further ado, the link to find my musings and photographs on tumblr, as well as the great cocktail recipe is here.

Monday Morning Musings #1: Challenging the adage "bad things happen in threes"

My Ajuga plant (seen in the photograph posted above) located in the northwest corner of my urban terrace garden has just given birth to triplets bearing a spectacular color somewhere in between purple and blue, a color that puts RGB charts to shame. From the looks of things, my Ajuga will be giving birth again soon, but I wanted to capture her first three arrivals of the season, and to challenge the statement that bad things happen in threes, both with the subjects of the photograph posted above, and with all the subsequent ones in today's blog entry.


Exhibit "A", my Basil Triplets (pictured below), which I had in my terrace garden in 2007; not only did they provide a nice scent to my outdoor haven, but they were an asset to my Blue Coat Gin and Q Tonic cocktails infused with Basil. Moreover, they looked great in a container created from an abandoned fireplace accessory, and, most importantly, they provided somewhat of a "hedge", giving me some privacy from my neighbors who live to the west of me, and who have put up white aluminum siding over their exterior brick wall; I guess they missed the suburbs.

In any event the "hedge"that this trio of basils provided, inspired last season's "hedge" created by a Passiflora (Passion Vine), seen in full force in the photograph below:

Exhibit "B", is actually my first "hedge", created when I first began gardening towards the end of the 1990's. It was a" hedge" that consisted of three wooden window boxes (sitting on top of bamboo shelving) that I filled with different annuals as the season dictated.

This "hedge" was built out of a necessity to provide privacy from a neighbor, whose bathroom window is just to the left of the gutter in the photograph posted above, and who insisted on exposing himself whenever I had guests in the garden. I was a "baby"gardener then, and, therefore, into the instant gratification annuals bring, instead of appreciating the joy in "watching grass grow', as I do now, which is a concept I discussed this past April which you can read by clicking here.


And speaking of grass, I give you Exhibit "C", in this case of mine designed to prove that things that happen in three are not necessarily bad, as seen here in the photographs below of my Ophipogon planiscapus (Black Mondo Grass) triplets,which looked lovely in my abandoned fireplace accessory (prior to moving out to give way to the Passiflora),

but, look even more spectacular in their other location on the opposite side of my terrace garden, where they are supported by a copper wire that's been tied lovingly around their containers to secure them to the railing that surrounds my terrace garden, and where they have been thriving under my Actinida kolomikta and Actimida (Kiwi Vines), as seen in the selection of photographs posted below, which are a close-up as well as a long shot of my Ophipogon planiscapus taken a few days ago and this past fall respectively.

Exhibit "D" in my case to dispel the-bad-things-happen-in-threes adage are these Echinacea Triplets posted below, that I grew a few years ago when I replaced my "window box hedge" of annuals with the fun-looking Echinacea triplets, that would become an inspiration for a petite wrap around greeting card that I created, which can be viewed in the store-front  pages within my my web-site, where they are available for purchasing when you want to send a greeting card that is about more than communication.

Exhibit "E" features the triplets known as Rosmarinus officinalis (Rosemary), seen below,

the herb of remembrance, as well as the herb which represents friendship (as you may recall from a previous blog post which may reread by clicking here), and the herb that looks great in color, and black and white (due to its unique texture) as seen below.

Exhibit "F" (below) features Japanese Painted Fern triplets, who resided in my terrace garden a few years ago.

And lastly, but not least, in my challenging the adage, Bad things happen is threes, I offer you Exhibit G, as in G for girls, and in this case, the girls being my sisters and me seen in the photograph below with our grandfather,

who clearly did not seem to believe that bad things happened in threes, and who, as you may recall is where I most likely received my inclination to garden (as I indicated in one of my first blog entries, which you may refer to by clicking here).

And with that, dear reader, I rest my case in my challenge of the adage bad things happen in threes.

In Loving Memory of Aunt Grace Fitchie . . . (And One Reason I Like the Paper Card)

My blog, as you may know, is only a little over a year old and has only recently celebrated its anniversary. Today, like an occasional WNYC (NPR) program of The Brian Lehrer Show,  Prairie Home Companion, Car Talk and even Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me, in which repeats of favorite shows are aired again, I am repeating part of an entry from February 2010. This is in honor of Grace Fitchie, my dear great aunt pictured in the photograph posted above, standing in the middle of the last row next to my grandmother, Clara May, who is at Grace's rightside. Grace was born on this day, January the third, in the early 1900's, I blogged about her in February 2010. She was an influence on my knowing the value of sending cards, and one that she sent me, over forty years ago, is still an impetus for me to continue to persevere in the new year with my designs of cards that are about more than communication, invitations that preserve moments in time, and event program covers that enhance an occasion, in keeping with the mission I have laid out in my philosophy which I have mentioned in numerous occasions within this blog.
Moreover, a birthday card — that I received as a young child —from my dear Aunt Grace has kept her alive for me, although I am certain her memory would still be with me — even without having the card to look at. Still, the card, now framed and sitting near my desk, is a beautiful reminder of her, and especially today, the day of her birth. The card she sent also inspires me to maintain the high standards I have for my other art work, as evidenced on my web-site  where, in addition to these items, original art prints that I have created can be found, as well as purchasing information for all my work, and this, as well as Grace's influence, is what friends and colleagues were celebrating last February and I described it this way:

"Engaging conversations. Sipping Papillon Hermitage. Snacking on Prince De Clavrolle Cheese and a baguette from Tom Cat Bakery as we make up our own words to the "Let it snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow"  song and replace them with "Let it Go, Let it Go, Let it Go." We are snow-bound in my studio apartment and looking out onto my terrace garden celebrating my winter note-card collection and so this is my first 'in-between-Saturdays-post.' These cards are on the web-site, and are so perfect for the season and to send when 'E' cards just won't do. We are not 'E' card people, and while we are fairly proficient in using the computer, and are very much concerned about our environment (we don't "waste" paper), we like to keep in touch in a personal way which is often by mailing a card. This causes me to think how grateful I am for some of the 'paper-cards' — as they are now branded — that I have gotten in the past. While I am not a collector, I have kept some very special paper cards that I have received. I've even framed some cards.One card that I have framed is from the summer after sixth grade. It is one that I received from my Great-Aunt Grace (who had eyes like Bette Davis eyes — long before the pop tune coined the phrase — but not the personality Kim Carnes  depicted in that song), my maternal grandmother's sister, who I always remembered as having been to the World's Fair (as seen below) in New York City, which even as a child, is a place where I wanted to live."

"That summer had been hard. I was very overwhelmed: My father had moved away the year prior, my Neurofibromatosis was now causing bumps to appear everywhere on my body. I wanted contact lenses, because my left eye was frequently turning inward from the lack of acuity  that it had, and my eye-doctor had told my parents that contacts would help with this problem as well as help to correct my low vision. Additionally, I would be attending a new school in the fall —the junior high school — where I would be going from room to room for various classes as opposed to having everything taught in one room, and I  was nervous I would not have time between classes to arrive on time. I even thought of my possibly missing the elementary school kids despite the fact that they didn't pick me to be on their Murder Ball team because of my low depth perception causing me to be an "easy-out." At least they had seen my physical problems and the teasing me about them had subsided; now I'd have to start all over again by being with different kids."

"Most of all, I was overwhelmed because I could not comfort my mother, who cried constantly over my father's leaving us. I knew I could share these thoughts with my Great-Aunt Grace, who often 'baby-sat' when my mother needed someone to take care of me. I was looking forward to seeing Grace on my birthday, but that was not to be. My dear great-aunt died unexpectedly in her sleep. She had been discovered dead, by her land-lady, after having turned blue in her bed. I still received the birthday card that  she had put in the mail prior to her fatal day. It arrived (featured below out of its frame) the day after I got the news that she had died, and it was to let me know she'd be thinking of me on 'my day'  as she called it, sentiments she expressed on the back of the card where she also wrote,'Will see you before long,' seen in the text-image posted below"

 

"Now at my launching of my winter-card-line soiree, we agree, "These kind of treasures aren't the same as an 'E' card that's been archived in your e-mail account-folder, with the threat of  a link breaking if you want to view it again."

Almost a year has passed since that soirée, but on this birthday of Grace Fitchie, there is still cause for paying a tribute to her influence.

The Lighting of the Actinida Kolomikta and Actimidia (Kiwi Vines) Soirée: Alternative to Crowded Tree and Menorah Lighting Celebrations

Happy December! There are so many celebrations this month, in New York City: many tree and menorah lighting events mark the onset of Advent, Chanukah, and Christmas. This past Friday, November 26th, 2010, the Friday after Thanksgiving, (which I referred to as Blue Friday in a previous post), the South Street Seaport had a ceremony for the lighting of their Christmas Tree beginning at 6:00 PM. The sportscaster, Jill Martin, played hostess to the festivities, which included a marching band from Brooklyn, characters from the Big Apple Circus, and jolly old Saint Nick. I'm told that Saint Nick posed for photos at no charge while performers who included Darlene Love and The Big Apple Chorus sang traditional holiday songs; and they were even joined by Rudolph (with his nose oh-so-bright) as well as Frosty The Snowman.

If you missed the pomp and circumstance, there is still time to enjoy the tree, which is located at Old Fulton Street amongst the history-filled "community" of the Seaport. The tree will be there until December 19th 2010; and there will be story-time with Santa as well as performances by the singing Christmas tree. Meanwhile you can see the South Street Seaport's tree and the festivities from the ceremony by clicking here.



Additionally, two days ago, on the Monday after Thanksgiving, there was a tree lighting ceremony at Lincoln Square, which is very close to where I live. It is the tree lighting ceremony that normally takes place at  the famous Lincoln Center, but because Lincoln Center is still undergoing renovation, Lincoln Square has been hosting it. Even though I live close to these locations, I don't usually navigate the crowds of people who clamor to see it — although that crowd is not nearly as thick as the one who went to see last night's tree lighting at Rockefeller Center , where tens of thousands of people came to view it —waiting over six hours to catch a glimpse of the "turning-on" of the tree's 33,000-plus lights.

I am not as Bah-Humbug as I sound, I have my own lighting ceremony — in my urban garden — with friends as we enjoy a Vertical Vodka (distilled in France) on the rocks with a splash — just a splash — of cranberry juice, as I "light" the bare, heavily textured branches of my once leaf-filled Kiwi Vines. Perhaps you recall the Kiwi Vines' magnificent leaves from a previous post. 

Now that the luscious leaves have all fallen, preparing for the return to Mother Earth until the spring, I am left with their gorgeous branches twisting and turning around the rail that encloses my roof extension garden. In honor of these lovely branches, I host my Kiwi Vine lighting soirée, the branches and the lights complimenting each other in the wee hours of the night.

Chanukah begins tonight, and there will be a menorah lighting ceremony on Sunday, December 5th 2010 at 59th Street and Fifth Avenue in New York City, at the southern most point of Central Park. The menorah to be lit is 32 feet and sufganiyot (holiday jelly donuts) and hot Latkes (potato pancakes) are promised, my Kiwi Vine's branches beckon me to stay home and write my Advent, Christmas and Chanukah cards.

I hope you will consider reaching out to those near and dear (and even not so dear) to you with a handwritten holiday correspondence, and I invite you to look at my selections of event program covers, invitations and greeting cards for these seasons via my web-site where purchase information is also available. Meanwhile, enjoy the sight of decorations wherever you may live, and remember to enjoy the various branches too.

Happy Belated 1/2 Year: or July 4th Eve: Celebrating with Garden Sodas

Having herb-infused cocktails (or grown-up sodas) on a summer night in my urban terrace garden is a great way for us  to belatedly ring in the half-year (July 1st 2010). It is a tradition for us to celebrate a 1/2 year every July 1st, and tonight we are doing it belatedly on the eve of July 4th. My SODA sign (seen in the photograph posted above), a thrift-shop find in the late 1970s, has been the center of many roof-top celebrations and is also the subject for some of my petite wrap-around cards as well as my large wrap-around cards. These may be viewed in the store-front pages on my web-site where they are available for purchase. The images with the SODA sign make a great invitation when you are inviting friends, family, and colleagues to a soirée.

Scarlett O'Hara and the wonderful herb, Aloysia triphylla (Lemon Verbena)

In Gone With The Wind, Aloysia triphylla (Lemon Verbena), is mentioned as Scarlett O'Hara's mother's favorite herb. The scent is a luscious addition to my urban terrace garden. It is not a showy plant, but it does have delicately textured white flowers that appear mid-summer. Its pointed leaves are great to put in an ice-cube tray before filling it with water. A single leaf looks lovely in the cube which in turn can be used in Gin and Tonics. I recommend using Blue Coat Gin with a splash - just a splash - of  "Q" tonic.

Snowy days. Starry nights. "And since we've no place to go, Let it go, Let it go, Let it go..." (A Case For Not Sending 'E' Cards)

Engaging conversations. Sipping Papillon Hermitage. Snacking on Prince De Clavrolle Cheese and a baguette from Tom Cat Bakery as we make up our own words to the "Let it snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow"  song and replace them with "Let it Go, Let it Go, Let it Go." We are snow-bound in my studio apartment and looking out onto my terrace garden celebrating my winter note-card collection and so this is my first 'in-between-Saturdays-post.' 




These cards will soon be in the store-front pages of my web-site, and are so perfect for the season and to send when 'E' cards just won't do. We are not 'E' card people, and while we are fairly proficient in using the computer, and are very much concerned about our environment (we don't "waste" paper), we like to keep in touch in a personal way which is often by mailing a card.

This causes me to think how grateful I am for some of the 'paper-cards' — as they are now branded — that I have gotten in the past. While I am not a collector, I have kept some very special paper cards that I have received. I've even framed some cards. One card that I have framed is from the summer after sixth grade. It is one that I received from my Great-Aunt Grace (who had eyes like Bette Davis eyes — long before the pop tune coined the phrase — but not the personality Kim Carnes  depicted in that song), my maternal grandmother's sister, who I always remembered as having been to the World's Fair (as seen below) in New York City, which even as a child, is a place where I wanted to live.

That summer had been hard. I was very overwhelmed: My father had moved away the year prior, my Neurofibromatosis was now causing bumps to appear everywhere on my body. I wanted contact lenses, because my left eye was frequently turning inward from the lack of acuity  that it had, and my eye-doctor had told my parents that contacts would help with this problem as well as help to correct my low vision. Additionally, I would be attending a new school in the fall —the junior high school — where I would be going from room to room for various classes as opposed to having everything taught in one room, and I  was nervous I would not have time between classes to arrive on time. I even thought of my possibly missing the elementary school kids despite the fact that they didn't pick me to be on their Murder Ball team because of my low depth perception causing me to be an "easy-out." At least they had seen my physical problems and the teasing me about them had subsided; now I'd have to start all over again by being with different kids.

Most of all, I was overwhelmed because I could not comfort my mother, who cried constantly over my father's leaving us. I knew I could share these thoughts with my Great-Aunt Grace, who often 'baby-sat' when my mother needed someone to take care of me. I was looking forward to seeing Grace on my birthday, but that was not to be. My dear great-aunt died unexpectedly in her sleep. She had been discovered dead, by her land-lady, after having turned blue in her bed. I still received the birthday card that  she had put in the mail prior to her fatal day. It arrived (featured below out of its frame) the day after I got the news that she had died, and it was to let me know she'd be thinking of me on "my day" as she called it. On the back of the card my Great Aunt wrote, "Will see you before long."

 

Now at my launching of my winter-card-line soirée, we agree, "These kind of treasures aren't the same as an 'E' card that's been archived in your e-mail account-folder, with the threat of  a link breaking if you want to view it again." Being snowbound and drinking wine is fueling our nostalgia as we continue to talk about  framing cards. Our attention is now on another card that I have framed is posted below:

As you can see, a car is pulling into a parking space in a crowded lot. We can infer the driver is pleased to find a place to park. I received this as a birthday card from my father, with whom I'd finally reconnected on a minimal communication level, after having lived in New York City a number of years.  My conversations with my father did not go much beyond the weather and cholesterol levels — despite my yearning for a relationship. He was a man of few words, but he sent me this card upon hearing I'd found an apartment — the living space where I am now - that I truly love. "Sometimes paper-cards can express what we cannot articulate," my friends and I conclude as the snow continues to fall and the wine warms us. My inclination to frame certain cards has led me to design cards that are suitable for framing which you may have seen in my previous posts but I'll include here for convenience.

The following are some selections from my new winter card line that we have been celebrating, and that Chris Deatherage, (my new web-designer) has added to my web-site.The first is titled Snowbound, the second is titled Hibernating, and the third is titled  Family Life In Central Park. (These are all petite fold-out cards.)

The images in the first two cards posted above are from my terrace which provides me with solace and inspiration. The third card is derived from an image taken in Central Park, a few yards a way from my apartment. Winter in New York City brings out the need to sculpt as evidenced in my image, Snow Diva in Central Park, for  the new single-sided card line (which Chris has also posted).

The front of the card is the right portion, the back of the card with the title of the image is the left hand portion. The card is blank inside and sized the same as the Petite Fold-Outs (5" by 4 and 1/4"). As you may recall  from my "day one" post, I've been inspired by the snow-sculptures constructed in Central Park after a winter storm, as evidenced by one of my very first line of note cards, Round Yon Virgin, an image of a snow sculpture of the Madonna and Child, seen near the Delacorte Theatre in Central Park.

If you are interested in preserving moments in a special way with any of my note-cards, please feel free to contact me via the information on my web-site. If you see cards posted here that are not yet on my web-site,  I can make arrangements for you to purchase them. Meanwhile we are still watching the snow fall, as we look out onto my garden (it has accumulated quite a bit since we began our soirée). Although we are surrounded by snow, we are now talking about our forthcoming spring card collection. After all, just a few weeks ago, Stanten Island Chuck, the New York  City Ground Hog, saw his shadow, and despite the heavy snow fall this evening, we know spring will be here soon, so we hope you do celebrate winter with friends, sip Hot Chocolate -infused with bitters  — (We recommend del Capo ) — and reach out to those near and dear to you by sending them one of our cards. I'm two days early posting this. Perhaps it's the del Capo's influence.....

How My Urban Garden Grows: The Highly Probable Influence of my Grandfather, Albert Elmer Herman Louis Melahn

I have always appreciated gardens as well as the containers that provide a home for plants, and the image posted above this entry (as well as to the first "box" in the "side-bar" in the top-right section of this blog) is one I created after happening upon an abandoned greenhouse. By "demand", I have rendered this image into a limited edition of prints which are available in varying sizes. Information relating to this image (as well as other black and white photographs that I have created) can be found in the print collection pages on my web-site. This image is also available as a note-card, and the details about this (and other cards that I design) is also on my web-site — in the store-front pages.

Fortunately, I don't have to worry about being without access to a greenhouse, because at my upper-west side apartment in New York City, I've planted and maintained a lovely terrace garden that is now caked in snow, and with this final "clarification" post, I'd like to tell you a little bit of background about my gardening endeavors.

This is the first year I've allowed my herbs, plants, shrubs, and certain "baby" trees to be partially exposed to the winter elements. For the past few years, to protect my 'darlings' in the New York winter, I have shielded them by putting them in a cold-frame that I had someone construct for me. (This can be taken apart and stored in the closet in spring, summer, and fall.) The 'cold-frame' preserving method worked for a few years, and was even decorated for some Christmas seasons, as seen in the photographs posted below:

Because the plants, shrubs and trees have now been acclimated to my outdoor space, they did not require being put in a cold-frame for this 2010 winter.
A few smaller plants were brought inside my apartment, but most remained outside - wrapped lovingly in a double layer of bubble-wrap then sealed with natural burlap and tied with chocolate brown and turquoise jute as seen below:

However, on spring afternoons and summer nights, as you might imagine from this 2009 photo below taken by Jay Parker, a gardener (who photographed this long before the first snowfall of 2010 seen in the photo at the beginning of this post), my garden has the feeling of Lucca en Italia and of enjoying a glass of Rosso di Montalcino or Brunello or even their local wine, Vino Novello, at an outdoor cafe.

During the warmer seasons my friends and I  have gathered here and discussed art, literature, politics, morals, and our common love for helping others. This post is the last of the clarification on statements that I made in my 'About Me' column. In that column I have said that the lead senses that guide my green thumb endeavors are 'smell' and 'touch.' These instincts very likely came from my maternal grandfather, Albert Elmer Herman Lewis Melahn pictured below with a tree he had just planted.

The virtues  he had are too many for naming in blog format. It is because of him that I have a great love and respect for the elderly and that I enjoy doing my volunteer work which is visiting the elderly — especially those who are homebound.

"Old people. They're the survivors, they know something, The very old, they are miracles like the just born; close to the end is precious, like close to the beginning." This quote is from one of my favorite plays, I'm not Rappaport, written by Herb Gardener, the cartoonist turned playwright as mentioned in my first entry. Though I never gardened with my grandfather, I believe my love of gardening came from him. My urban gardening endeavors in my 'Manhattan back yard' are a tribute to him.