Today's the last Saturday of October 2011! Question: Will it be Halloween's Last Stand?

If you have been following my blog, then you are probably aware that some of the things which I grow in my urban (New York City) terrace garden have taken it upon themselves to express their thoughts and opinions by authoring blog entries and posting them within this blog.


This "hoopla" — which has caused one of the Halloween pumpkins that I currently have in my garden to be overcome with laughter as seen in the image to in the upper lefthand corner —  all started in April of 2010, when my blog was only a little over four months old, and one of the flowers from my Paeonia suffruiticosa (Tree Peony), posted a photograph of herself with a short narrative. (If you would like to refer to this, please click here.)

As time passed, word got out among the plants, vines, flowers, herbs, trees and shrubs — which totaled a little over eighty when I last took a census — that the flower from my Paeonia suffruiticosa had done this, and many of the things which I grow began authoring entries on my blog. (This fact has  caused another one of the Halloween pumpkins that I currently have in my garden to also be overcome with laughter as seen in the image at the right.)



For example, this past April (2011), a little over a year to the day of my Paeonia suffruiticosa flower's post, one of my tulips had a reaction to the poem, Tulips, by Sylvia Plath, and she, my darling tulip, expressed her feelings in an entry which you may refer to by clicking here. Moreover, she even followed up on her thoughts about Plath's poem in a subsequent entry which you may refer to by clicking here.


However, in the "interim" of my tulip's "prose", not wanting to be outdone, my Physocarpus opulifolius (Coppertina), went to great lengths to weigh in with his position on life in my urban terrace garden, and if you'd like to read what he had to say — I'm sure he would appreciate his voice being heard — you may do so by clicking here. 


Meanwhile, my Helichrysum bracteatum (Strawflowers), has also "penned" (or shall I say "key-boarded"?) her thoughts too in a blog post which may be found by clicking here, while my Penniestum setaceum (Purple Fountain Grass), on behalf of herself and my Acer palmatum, posted a letter requesting assistance, so that an image of them taken by yours truly could be rendered in a manner that it, too, could be used for one of the greeting cards, invitations or event program covers that I design, produce, and sell within the Card Shoppe Pages (which you can view by clicking here) of my web-site, Patricia Youngquist Photo-Art. 

Knowing that my Physocarpus opulifolius was allowed to be so prolific in its blog post, and knowing that my Helichrysum bracteatum shared her deepest concerns in "blog-format", and knowing that my Penniestum setaceum took to the task of letter writing, has caused some of the other Halloween pumpkins that I currently have in my garden to now join in with the laughter — seen in the image posted below.

Meanwhile, part of all of the "pumpkin laughter" that is currently taking place in my terrace garden as Halloween approaches (it arrives in three days counting today) is because not only do they know that many more of the things which I grow in my garden have authored posts on my blog, but the pumpkins are aware that the things which I grow have also let their opinions be heard in different ways in addition to directly posting to this blog.


For example, my yellow rose not only authored a post (this past May, which you may refer to by clicking here) for the blog which you are reading now, but she convinced me to state one of her positions regarding the term "eye-candy" on nybg's (New York Botanical Garden) tumblr! This can found by clicking here, and scrolling until you see pictures of yellow roses (taken by yours truly). These images are accompanied with my rose's thoughts — exactly as they were told to me.

Some of my other pumpkins seem to be in joyful agreement that it was their 
heartfelt reaction to my rose's thoughts on the term "eye-candy" that brought them some "well-deserved" press that
they received in this past Thursday's blog entry, which you may refer to by clicking here.


But, having proclaimed throughout today's blog entry that my pumpkins are sharing in the joy of seeing what I grow in my garden be given the opportunity to express themselves, I should have suspected that they had an alternate motive! (In spite of how "innocent" they look in the image posted below.)

Yes, even pumpkins have their price! I have come to realize the main reason for my pumpkins' laughter today is from their over hearing the latest "news" regarding Halloween. They have brought it to my attention that Timothy Larson, an elected representative from Connecticut, wants to move Halloween to the last Saturday in October instead of keeping it on October 31st, as it has been since the beginning of Halloween tradition.


"How," my pumpkins are asking, "can a holiday such as Halloween which is equated with All Hallo'ws Eve  (the night before All Saints Day which is celebrated on November the First) be moved?"  My pumpkins did not stop with their question, but they continued with their thoughts and reminded me of how "silly" this idea is, given that, "the very word Halloween is first attested in the Sixteenth Century and it represents a Scottish variant of the fuller All-Hallows-Even ('evening') that is, the night before Hallows Day." 


As you may have surmised, dear reader, from my pumpkins' accurate interetation of the misused term "eye-candy" by certain gardeners, (discussed in yesterday's blog post which you may refer to by clicking here), they are quite well read and make informed remarks; they tell me their source for the aforementioned fact about the "Scottish variant" as well as other interesting facts surrounding "the reasons on why Halloween is celebrated on OCTOBER THE THIRTY-FIRST, " can be found by clicking here.  


My pumpkins point out — and rightly so —  why are law makers spending money on things like moving a holiday which is  rooted in history, instead of creating jobs and heath care for their constituents? Will this lead to only celebrating the Fourth of July on the closest Monday for the public's long week-end convenience? (This happened with Memorial Day, a fact that I mentioned (yes the things which I grow in my garden do let me do the blog posting from time to time) in a couple of blog entries this past May which you may refer to by clicking here and here). 


Moreover, will the beginning of a calendar year change to the first Monday closest to January 1st to create a long week-end for the law-makers who spend their time creating such changes instead of programs that their constituents need?


How long will it before lawmakers try to forbid it to snow or rain on days that precipitation would cramp their style? 


Be that as it may, the conversation regarding changing Halloween has been started; there is a lot of media agenda surrounding it, including a You Tube video on the subject which is posted below:




AND WITH THIS,  WE MAY SOON BE NEARING THE END OF ANOTHER TRADITION, BUT NOT BEFORE WE CELEBRATE THE "OFFICIAL" HALLOWEEN THIS COMING MONDAY!  If you are interested in getting any of my Halloween cards (that have been mentioned in previous posts throughout this month of October) you can view the selections of cards that I have designed for  Halloween via the Card Shoppe Pages of my web-site Patricia Youngquist Photo-Art. A link to the specific location for these cards within the Card Shoppe Pages may be found by clicking here. They are only available in boxed sets on the Internet due to shipping regulations. However, if you live in the New York City area, my Halloween cards may be purchased as "singles" via Gifts by Helen, the woman who sells the painted cat rocks which have been featured in a number of my previous blog posts that you may refer to with a downloadable brochure that can be accessed by clicking here or by referring to the labels menu on the left hand side of this blog entry and referring to either Gifts by Helen or Painted Rocks. Please click here for her vending location and her contact information. If you decide to e-mail her, please indicate in the subject line of your email that you read about her endeavors on this blog. And, if you would like to contact me about any of the content in today's blog post and prefer to leave your questions or concerns in a "comment" as opposed to sending me an e-mail, but you are new to posting things in a "comments field", you may click here for directions.

They're baaaaaaaaack . . .

When I wrote yesterday's blog entry, the sun was not up, and I had not taken a detailed look at my terrace garden to assess how it fared during Hurricane Irene, but I indicated in that post that it appeared all was well. Upon checking out the situation in my garden (after publishing yesterdays post), I was extremely thankful to see that all the things which I grow in my urban garden were unscathed. Of course, I had to remove small branches which had fallen from neighboring trees, and move everything back into place that I had switched around to prepare for Irene's predicted wrath, but my clean-up paled in comparison to many folks, who suffered damages as a result of this past weekend's hurricane.


Something that did thrive in my garden (as you might have surmised from the photographs at the top of today's blog entry), was the "return" of mushrooms, which are a thing that, once upon a time, I found to be an eyesore, as I indicated in a previous post.
They once again popped up in the container which "houses" my Continus Coggygria AKA Smokey Bush (seen in the first image) as they had done before, but they also appeared in the container which is the home to my first Paeonia suffruiticosa AKA Tree Peony (seen in the second image), a shrub that I have discussed in many blog posts which you may refer to by going to the labels menu on my blog (to the left of all blog entries) and clicking on the selection designated as Paeonia suffruiticosa (Tree Peony). Additionally, over three dozen  images of this lovely shrub are featured on Flickr as indicated by the thumbnails posted below, and which may view in larger sizes by going to this link.

But what about the mushrooms? What are you going to do about those? These are questions you may be asking, given that I've mentioned their return at the beginning of today's blog post. For that answer, I turn once again to Michael Kuo, the man I referred to in my blog entry regarding the first appearance of mushrooms. Here is what he had to say in answer to those who find mushrooms invasive, as I once did:


"No; your yard  (urban terrace-container garden in my case) is the invasive. Your grasses, flowers, vegetable plants, and ornamental trees are anything but natural to your area. In short, you have taken a big chunk of an ecosystem and deliberately destroyed it, planting not only your house, but invasive species everywhere. I don't mean to be confrontational here--and I do own a home with a yard full of non-native organisms. But we should be honest about what's going on, rather than pretending that our artificially created environments are 'natural,' while the weeds and mushrooms are 'invasive.'


"If your mushroom is actually a species that does not belong in your area, it is probably only there because it is attending to something non-native that you put there. Your mulch may be cypress mulch. Do cypress trees grow in your area? Woodchips and mulch from Home Depot or Wal-Mart come from who knows where, and they are often accompanied by invisible mycelia . . .  Now stop for a moment to think about how ironic it is that we often create woodchip trails through our forest preserves in an effort to keep people from tramping through the woods and harming the ecosystem!"


Last week, after I read Kuo's opinions regarding mushrooms and invasiveness, I felt somewhat humbled as I have thought of myself as being sensitive to how the human race invades the environment of nature. Kuo's points about mushrooms and invasiveness were not lost on me. In fact, his attitude reminded me of a recent article about the so-called invasive geese in Prospect Park which is in the borough of Brooklyn in New York City, where there is an on-going brutal battle about whether to get rid of the "invasive" geese (by killing them) or allow them to be in the park unharmed by humans. The article, Fowl Thoughts (which appeared in April 2011 in New York magazine and can be referred to by clicking here), includes a statement, made by Mary Beth Artz, an "unofficial" spokeswoman for geese's rights. Artz's statement was in response to the issue raised by those who are "anti-geese" who are concerned about the presence of unsightly poop throughout the park making the atmosphere unpleasant as a result of the presence of geese. Artz apparently said, "No, its not pleasant to look at. That doesn't mean we should kill them."


And while I would not appreciate geese droppings in my garden or neighborhood, I don't think killing the bird is the answer either. In 2009, when geese flew into the airspace of Flight 1549, forcing  its captain ("Sully") to land in the Hudson River, some of the aftermath talk raised this question: Do geese invade the air space or do humans invade their space; after all, whose birthright comes with the ability to fly?


The answers to the question regarding geese and just whom is invading whom and the answer to gardeners and mushrooms regarding "invasion" is a debate that will go on long after I have left this world. For now, as for me and my mushrooms, I'll let them be. They can duke it out with my herbs, vines, flowers, plants, shrubs and trees – unless they bring real harm to them.


Meanwhile I'll mind my own business on the issue of mushrooms in my terrace garden and focus on the things that are under control in my lovely urban garden, such as completing my Name Tag Project , an endeavor I introduced a couple of weeks ago and one that I have made progress in completing as discussed in other blog entries, including ones you may refer to by clicking here and here. As of yesterday, I have photographed twelve more of the things which I grow in my terrace garden and posted them to Flickr as evidenced by the thumbnails posted below.

Now, I only have eighteen more name tags to add and ultimately photograph for Flickr, but for now I have a good excuse for my delay (as I  will not meet my self-imposed August 31, 2011 deadline) and that is this: Jennie has not finished writing them but plans to by next week. Her handwriting is awesome and it is well worth the wait.


In the meantime, dear reader, I realize I have shown you photographs (within the aforementioned "name-tag-related" blog posts as well as within images on Flickr) of the classy name tags, but perhaps seeing one next to a mushroom (as it appears in the photograph which includes yellow arrows pointing to name tags that are within the containers of two different things). This will give you a sense of the name tag's size.

Upon your having read my entry, dear reader, I am interested in you weighting in with your thoughts and ideas on the "so-called" invasiveness of mushrooms, geese or anything else for that matter.

Mushroom Madness

This past Sunday, August 20th 2011, as I prepared my blog entry for this Tuesday's publication, rain — severe rain — with thunderstorms was predicted. That weather report caused me to think back to the prior Sunday's (August 14th) torrents of rain.

While Texas remained under a severe drought, on Sunday, August 14th of 2011, the amount of rainfall in New York City set a record. According to radio reports, newspapers, and countless Internet materials, including one found at this link, "New York's Kennedy Airport received 7.8" of rain, its soggiest day since records began in 1948. Its single-day rainfall output was about twice its average monthly total."  As a result of this immense rainfall, there were "scattered power outages and transit disruptions. Cars got caught in flash floods, and the Long Island Railroad reported localized flooding and trees on the tracks, delaying several dozen trains....in the subways, water flooded into the tunnels, knocking out seven lines of power . . . "

Besides the rhetoric, newspapers were, if you will excuse the pun, flooded with images of this occurance. Many of these images are available to see via Flickr or general Google searches; so, dear reader, if you are interested, I will leave finding them up to you, rather than me hand-picking some, and then pointing you to the links to see them. Not that I mind doing this, but I think that reading the aforementioned fact about "cars getting caught in flash floods" will leave you with a mental picture of just how much rainfall we had in New York City.

The only photograph which I took of my terrace garden on that rain-filled day is one of a tiny watering can (obviously not one that I use to water my garden) that rests on the the second of three bamboo shelves which are attached to my terrace railing by copper-wire to provide me with an "urban hedge".  (The EXIF info on this photograph tells me it was taken at 16:57:13; which, from my military time conversion, means I took it a little after 4:57 P.M. — most likely the only small window of time on that Sunday in which rainfall was not occurring, as I am not camera savvy enough to shoot pictures in the rain.)




The first  bamboo shelf of of these "urban hedge" can be seen in the photograph below.

This photograph was not taken during the rainstorm, but has been included in this blog entry to give you an idea of what I mean by my "urban hedge" of bamboo shelving. These shelves serve as one of my "urban hedges" — giving me privacy from voyeur neighbors as discussed in a few previous posts, including ones which you may refer to by clicking here and here. These particular bamboo shelves are located at the extreme southwest corner of my garden, which means they are to the immediate left of the door that leads from my apartment to my terrace garden, and therefore I did not have to venture very far into my garden to take either of the photographs of my bamboo shelving. An orange arrow has been added to the image directly above, to show you, dear reader, just how close the neighbor's window is to my urban garden.




However, the point of today's blog entry is not solely dedicated to "urban hedges"  or to sensationalizing August 14th's rainfall, rather it is to shed light on the prevailing belief that the things which urban gardeners — or at least ones with container gardens — grow truly thrive as a result of such downpours. At times of heavy rainfall, many folks — as most of them know that I hand-water over sixty things that grow in my terrace garden — always say to me, "well at least you don't have to water . . . "




And with that assumption, I want to clarify something that I may have alluded to in a blog entry, in which I discussed hand-watering my terrace garden. First of all, rain does not always fall into the many containers that "house" the herbs, plants, flowers, vines, shrubs, and trees which I have in my terrace garden, so at times, even in heavy rainfall, I still have to water it. Secondly, if the rainfall is heavy enough to do damage to subway systems, think what it can do to the root systems of things living in garden containers. A number of years ago it rained every day in the month of June, and a few of my shrubs that I had successfully wintered over, and that had thrived beautifully for part of that spring season, succumbed to mold and mildew brought on by their roots being unable to dry out. Since mold and mildew can spread, I had to get rid of the afflicted shrubs, and replace them with other things.




Hence, the type of rain New York City experienced on Sunday, August 14th, because it was followed by heavy rain on Monday the 15th, Wednesday the 17th, Thursday the 18th, had the potential of endangering some of the things which I grow in my terrace garden; but as you can see by the photograph posted below (which was taken by Juan V on Thursday the 18th), fortunately that was not the case.

The things that grow in my terrace garden – so far — do not seem to be in danger of mold or mildew, which is a good sign, especially since it has continued to rain after Juan V took the photograph.




Unfortunately, another problem has come up in my urban terrace garden as a result of so much rainfall: Since the days following the time that Juan V took the aerial photograph of my urban garden, it has rained heavily again, and that rain, or rather my herbs, vines, flowers, plants, shrubs and tree's inability to dry out from that rain, has caused unsightly (in my humble opinion) mushrooms to make their home in the container which houses my Continus Coggygria (Smokey Bush) as seen in the photographs posted below.

I use the term "humble opinion" in conjunction with my observation that mushroom are "unsightly" because when I saw them on Sunday morning, August 21st, their sudden appearance nearly gagged me; and it sent me straight to Google for answers, where I came upon a mushroom lover's web-site by someone named Michael Kuo which you may refer to by clicking here.




Before I go any further, I will confess that this is not the first time I saw a mushroom in my urban garden, I did see a "lone" mushroom "hidden" beneath the delicate foliage of my Thom-Thumb shrub, but I dug it out immediately —  out of a reflex reaction — rather than photographing it. A few days later, I spotted a mushroom growing in my Creeping Phlox, and this time, I took a photograph, (posted below), and then I pulled the mushroom out!

Unlike Mr. Kuo, I do not appreciate their presence, and upon reading what he has to say about getting rid of them, I am quite discouraged. Here is what Kuo has to say about removal of mushrooms:"Mushrooms are roughly comparable to apples on apple trees; they are the fruiting body the organism creates when it wants to reproduce. The apple tree's "plan" (I know; I'm giving human thoughts to trees and mushrooms, but it's the easiest way to talk about this) is to put its seeds in a nice, plump morsel that will fall to the ground and attract a hungry animal who will then, um, pass the seeds to new territory for germination and a new apple tree."




Mr. Kuo continues, "Mushrooms have similar plans. Their seeds (microscopic things called spores) cover parts of the mushrooms; one of the best ways to understand mushrooms is to think of them as 'spore factories'. The entire structure is an excuse to get spores out into the world . . . the 'real' organism – the part that corresponds to the apple tree, rather than the apple — is called a mycelium (pronounced so it rhymes with 'my helium'), and is found in the mushroom's substrate: the ground, leaves, a log, woodchips, and so on. It is a mesh of tiny threadlike cells that plow through the substrate, consuming nutrients . . . "




"Now it should be obvious why you can't get rid of your mushrooms; you would have to get rid of the mycelium rather than the mushrooms. If you have been picking or stomping on your mushrooms to make them disappear, you might as well have picked every apple in an orchard , trying to make the trees go away."




"HUH?," says yours truly to the blinking monitor.




"You would need to remove all the soil and natural debris in your yard or garden, and replace it with something inorganic like concrete or plastic — in which case you would 'probably' be mushroom free. I say 'probably' because Pisolithus tinctorius, Scleroderma, and other mushrooms might still erupt through your concrete."




And I thought bamboo shelving would shield me from unsightly things! The blinking monitor hears me wince!




"What I haven't mentioned yet is your mushroom is an integral part of your yard or garden's ecosystem. Its mycelium is probably doing one of two things, either which is crucial to the health of your yard."




But, I have a container garden!




"  . . . mushrooms are involved in a symbiotic relationship with plants and trees. The plant's rootlets are surrounded and protected by the mushroom's mycelium which help the plant absorb water and nutrients . . . "




Not convinced that their value is worth the eye-sore!

I will concede that I am willing to consider Mr. Kuo's view, because, after all, anyone who presents their argument by "giving human thoughts to trees and mushrooms" has a way of winning my heart, for as you know, if you follow this blog, there have been a number of occasions when one of my plants, flowers, shrubs or trees have expressed themselves by authoring blog entries. My Paeonia Suffruiticosa's (Tree Peony) self-expression is here, my Tulips "two-cents" can be found here and here; my Physocarpus opulifolius (Coppertina) views are here, my Roses weighed in here; while my Helichrysum bracteatum (Strawflowers), took the helm here.




Moreover, my Actinida kolomikta and Actimida (Kiwi Vines) were cast — although my Actinida kolomikta did all the talking — as narrators of my first garden movie, The Kiwi Speaks! Fifteen Minutes of Fame . . .  almost; which is now on Vimeo, and is accessible at this link.




And, not to be on done, my Hens and Chicks insisted on giving a thumbs up to a colleague of mine (which you can see at this link), while my Echinacea and Tropaelum majus (Nasturtium) insisted their placement in my Flickr Galleries be announced by them. They made their announcements in these respective links (here and here).




I am still not too pleased to have unsightly mushrooms invading my Continus Coggygria (Smokey Bush) and my Creeping Phlox, but if it doesn't bother them, I'll try to take the same attitude and let things take their course. Besides, once upon a time, I thought mushrooms were cute, well, at least ceramic ones, such as the variety yours truly is sitting on in the photograph posted below. The picture was taken on my fifth birthday, at Santa's Village, a place that was filled with amusement, and mushrooms (the purple double-sided  arrow on the photograph is pointing to two of the many) and now, as I celebrate my (ahem) birthday tomorrow, I will make a wish to be childlike and not childish about mushrooms.

ATTENTION DEAR READER: Today's Blog Post is a Double Feature! 2-PRESS RELEASES! PART ONE OF PRESS RELEASE: The Anticipated Sequel: "The Kiwi Vine AND the Monarch Butterfly" SEQUEL to "The Kiwi Speaks! Fifteen Minutes of Fame . . . almost"

The Kiwi Vine AND The Monarch Butterfly! from Patricia Youngquist on Vimeo.

The highly anticipated movie, The Kiwi Vine AND the Monarch Butterfly, a sequel to my first garden-themed movie, The Kiwi Speaks! Fifteen Minutes of  Fame . . . almost, is about to be released; and a trailer for it is posted above today's blog entry for your viewing pleasure. It was produced by yours truly with the assistance (in alphabetical order) of Cat, Lewis, and Matt. The music fir the trailer is a few lines and bars from The Kingston Trio's highly acclaimed rendition of the song Where Have all the Flowers Gone?, which is a song I referred to in previous blog entries.



As for the specifics of the sequel itself, production began this past May, and it has been discussed in a number of my blog entries; including ones which you may refer to by clicking here as well as here and here.


The sequel came by popular demand of the things which I grow in my terrace garden, because once they saw the fun my Actinida kolomikta and Actimida (Kiwi Vines), had starring in my first garden-themed feature film, The Kiwi Speaks! Fifteen Minutes of  Fame . . . almost, they all wanted to be in the movies! Being in a movie, or appearing on television, is not something yours truly enjoys, as I indicated in previous posts, that you may read by clicking here as well as here; however, I love all the things which I grow in my urban terrace garden, and I respect their need to express themselves. This is mostly indicated by my "allowing" them to author posts on this blog including ones which you find by clicking here as well as here and here, and also here and here.


The herbs, vines, plants, flowers, shrubs and trees which I have in my terrace garden are unique onto themselves; and they all seem grateful for the opportunity to express tgemselves. Moreover, they are looking forward to the release of The Kiwi Vine AND The Monarch Butterfly, and so they have reminded me that, in light of its eminent release, dear reader, you might want to refer to its predecessor, The Kiwi Speaks! Fifteen Minutes of Fame . . . almost, which you may do by going to the post associated with the following link.


Meanwhile, dear reader, please stay tuned to this blog for specifics on when the full movie,  The Kiwi Vine AND The Monarch Butterfly, will be available to view at a computer near you.

Tree of Heaven ??????????????

Juan V took the photograph posted above (which features a partial view of my urban terrace garden) this past Thursday (July 14th 2011), when he was at my place to help me take down my short-lived Honeysuckle Vine. The lovely vine had produced beautiful flowers which I featured in a few blog entries, including one which you may refer to by clicking here. My Honeysuckle Vine enjoyed climbing up the bamboo trellis (the bamboo trellis sans my Honeysuckle Vine can be seen in the top right hand portio of the photograph) which Juan V had built for me this past May, by using bamboo stakes that I had accumulated from my gardening endeavors in by-gone years. This is a fact, dear reader, which you may recall from a previous post, and that you may refer to by clicking here.  

In any event, my lovely Honeysuckle Vine is now gone — a victim of mildewy powder — which we think was caused by the exhaust from a newly installed fan in the window of the building directly west of me, as I stated in my blog entry this past Thursday, and if you'd like, you may refer to it by clicking here. 


An advantage of container gardens, such as mine, is that while it is sad to lose anything that I grow, things can be pulled out fairly easily, and another advantage of a container garden is that the things that grow in them can be moved around to meet their changing needs (in terms of sunlight as the sun shifts throughout the season). However, the problem of man-made things, such as the neighboring buildings's exhaust fan, always makes the herbs, plants, flowers, vines, shrubs , and trees which grow in an urban garden vulnerable.
Man-made things are not the only hazard in a New York City terrace garden that present a problem. So-called gifts from Mother Nature can be just as hazardous, such as the Ailanthus tree, — a tree which is planted in all the "back yards" of the buildings that surround me, and a tree which is easy to recognize by its leaves which are pictured below. 

Sometimes, the  Ailanthus tree, is referred to as The Tree of Heaven, for reasons unapparent to yours truly. I am not alone in my aversion for the Ailanthus tree. Ms. Karen Joyce Williams, an on-line editor, wrote about this tree in terms of its relationship to Betty Smith's 1948 young adult novel, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. In the novel, Smith (as on-line editor Williams points out), romanticizes the Ailanthus tree, making it "a symbol that floats through the novel" and using it as "a talisman in the eyes of the characters." However, Williams points out that, in fact, the Ailanthus tree is a very,"pervasive, strong-rooted interloper to the native landscape, elbowing, rooting, and edging out the hickory, sumac and ash trees" that are native to New York. (If you'd like to read Ms. William's full piece, please click here.)


Additionally — besides the Ailanthus tree's invasive nature — the web-worm pests that lurk on it build unsightly cob-like structures, which give it a sickly — even eerie —  quality, as in "Addams Family eerie", a "quality" that I discussed in a previous blog entry which I made in February of 2010, and that you may refer to by clicking here). This webby-appearance in its mild form can be seen in the photographs posted below.

However, to give it its due, at one time, the Ailanthus tree, did provide me with the inspiration for one of my kaleidoscopic photographic art prints, Trees From My Balcony, which can be seen below,

and which can be viewed more closely in the print collection pages of my web-site, Patricia Youngquist Photo-Art, where purchase information is available. I confess that I derived this inspiration from the Ailanthus tree, many, many years before I was a gardener, and I did not know about the disgusting, slimy worms that jumped from its pods, resting and nibbling on anything they could find in my beautiful garden, as evidenced in a "gotcha" photograph of one of the little worms on a leaf of my Paeonia suffruiticosa (Tree Peony).

I am not the only one who once received inspiration from the Ailanthus tree only to later find out that the tree was perhaps not worthy of my creative endeavors. The Ailanthus tree, and my aforementioned sentiment regarding it, was expressed in the Henry James novella, Washington Square, set in the West Village of Manhattan, in New York City, in the mid-nineteenth century.

James writes, "The ideal of quiet and of genteel retirement, in 1835, was found in Washington Square . . . it was here that you took your first walks abroad, following the nursery-maid with equal step and sniffing up the strange odor of the  Ailanthus-trees which at that time formed the umbrage of the Square, and diffused an aroma that you were not yet critical enough to dislike it as it deserved." 

A Helichrysum bracteatum's (Strawflower's) Sensibility

The image posted above is of me, a lone strawflower, with a pesky ant making itself at home on one of my petals now that he has no flowers from Youngquist's Paeonia suffruiticosa (Tree Peony) to bother. You may recall Youngquist blogged about these pesky ants in a previous blog entry which you may refer to by clicking here.


Now, dear reader (as I've heard Youngquist call you), if you have been following this blog you know that, on occasion, the things that grow in Youngquist's urban terrace garden take it upon themselves to weigh in by posting on this blog including her Paeonia suffruiticosa (Tree Peony), Tulips, and her Physocarpus opulifolius (Coppertina).


With the knowledge that the things that grow in Youngquist's terrace garden have been posting on this blog, my comrades (my fellow strawflowers who live in a clay pot — which means we need to be watered often —  with me as you can see from the image posted below) took turns, and we drew straws (if you will excuse the pun) to see which one of us would get to write today's blog entry, and I picked the winning straw! (And its not because I look like E.T. in this picture either!)

We strawflower are members of the daisy family (but please don't hold that against us), and our Latin name is Helichrysum bracteatum. The flowers that we produce have a papery, straw-like texture, which is why you humans refer to us as strawflowers.
It is said that yellow is our traditional color but , being yellow, I take offense at that as I feel there is nothing traditional about me (or the ones that I live with in this clay pot in our blogger, Patricia Youngquist's garden), as evidenced by the photographs posted below.

According to Jean Dion, "the strawflower dries extremely easily, making this a favorite plant for gardeners into wreaths and winter-crafts." That being said, I, as a strawflower, am so glad that my gardener (AKA your blogger) is not the craft type. This means that she lets us hang out as long as possible with the herbs, vines, plants, shrubs, trees, and other flowers that she grows in her terrace garden. Besides, Youngquist will probably try and let us winter-over as she does with everything that she grows in her terrace garden. (This is a fact  which you you may read about by clicking here, and from what I have heard, everything — even things that are "not supposed to"  — come back from season to season.)
Having told you that Youngquist will not turn us strawflowers into wreaths or use us in winter-craft projects, this does not mean that she won't use images that she takes of us to include in her line of invitations that preserve a moment in time, her event program covers that enhance any occasion, or her greeting cards that are about more than communication. Information on these materials may be found within Youngquist's downloadable brochure as well as within the store-front pages of her web-site where purchase information is also available.


Meanwhile, due to our animated nature, we bring total joy and a sense of humor to even the most serious gardens. However, we almost didn't make the cut of chosen plants for Youngquist's terrace garden, because she has the weirdest association when it comes to us strawflowers.


Her association is this, apparently Ms. Youngquist's high school graduating class's student council chose the strawflower as the class's flower, and since Youngquist had a "Janis Ian" experience in high school, there is a lot of pain associated with those days. I guess I shouldn't assume that you know what I mean by a "Janis Ian" experience, dear reader, but I am referring to the song, At Seventeen written and initially sung by Ms. Ian , whose lyrics include:

". . . To those of us who knew the pain

Of valentines that never came

And those whose names were never called

When choosing sides for basketball

It was long ago and far away

The world was younger than today

And dreams were all they gave for free

To ugly ducking girls like me . . . " 

I guess you humans are really affected by these things. I've heard that Youngquist's graduating class voted for people that had the best smile, greatest legs, biggest mouth, prettiest eyes, prettiest nose, prettiest mouth, prettiest hair, prettiest feet, best body, best hands, best neck, and who were the most handsome and prettiest. These were  just some of the "honors" that did not go to our gardener and your blogger. She didn't  go to prom or even date in high school, but, hey that's no reason to associate us strawflowers with a select few of people, who may or may not have those features anymore, or who may have even excluded her from activities due to her legal blindness and her having Neurofibromatosis Type-One. It sounds as if students and teachers could be kind of thoughtless —  in fact down right cruel in those days, but whad-ya-gonna-do?

Besides how many of them have gardens in New York City with strawflowers?