Thursday, November 17, 2011

A Trip to the Nursery, Pear Cactus, Fairy Gardens But No Real Dogs

We were out doing errands and I was happy to find my camera in my purse.  

It was sunny on the coast Wednesday, but inland in Carmel Valley the sky was truly blue.
These prickly pear cactus  fruits were ripening  aloft, about ten feet  above the ground.  As to the size of the entire bank of cactus, it could easily rival a school bus.  I thoroughly enjoyed seeing this specimen and was glad that I didn't need to prune, clean or otherwise tend to any of its pads which were growing every which way, very spiney and lassoed with the silken threads of multiple spider webs. 

After a quick stop at the  lumbar yard we went to a nursery that sells canine statuary but does not allow the real thing.    I understand, but maybe that sign should be on a lion or on an  elephant.  Poor dog, making him disallow his living prototypes.

 The nursery was selling (very expensive) fairy gardens in large flat pots.  This one has a tiny chair, hat and bicycle under a silver Dusty Miller pruned to look tree-like.  Small succulents mimic the place of century plants in a full size garden.  Irish moss  makes a great ground cover.

 This is all in a pot not much bigger than one of those cactus pads, that is to say a little smaller than the circle you can make with your arms, and there is  quite a lot going on including,

a shapely tree with a tire swing.  The fairies have dropped their gardening tools in the blue star creeper.  Neither one of them was doing any watering or pruning.  The red wagon is empty... Maybe those rosettes of  succulents  look like large cactus pads to them and they just can't quite imagine taking care of it.  I wondered about how high the swing was hung, but then I realized, of course, fairies could access on the wing.  I wasn't tempted to buy at nearly $300. but maybe  having seen them will inspire some playful tableau in some pot on my deck.   A few years ago I sold some toys and dolls on Ebay and enjoyed staging them in the garden.

                               The tin woodsman stood in the violas and lobelia.

A 1940's  bisque Nancy Ann doll fit right in the fuschia flowers.

 Sometimes, when the mushrooms are pushing their way up through the forest floor  I think of  creating diorama type scenes...but usually I'm on my way from one task to another and have thus far been pleased with just capturing an au natural photos of the fungi themselves...  but can't you see a small tableau in this cluster?

I suspect I just like taking pictures...

Even rats might not be safe from my camera...stuffed ones...(Please notice he does not have a sign around his neck saying "no rats" but that isn't a bad idea, if only it would work.)

                                  and r e a l  ones that fall for the peanut butter. That is a "have a heart trap"and this rat got the catch and release treatment and might be enjoying wildcat canyon as home.   Maybe the wildcat canyon rats put up statues of bobcats and mountain lions reading..."no cats" ?


Sunday, November 13, 2011

Headlines that Make Me Bake Pies and Watch the Sunset...

My grandmother was a songwriter in the 30's and 40's.  Long after she had stopped working  she would still come up with lyrics and music that might be her "come back." There is one of those later compositions that is dear to me that we  found  after she was gone... I'll just share one line:
"Don't worry if the morning papers have headlines that make you feel blue..."
They could, couldn't they?  After many hours of reading and thinking ( after many hours of working too )  I decided the best place for blue is in a pie...well blackberries...anyway.

And then I decided that I really don't

 have enough pictures of the

sunset so I took 44 pictures while my blue-ish pie was baking.   

                     Kitty  Bumpkins was casually escorting ...

And I did as I had been bid in an email I had received earlier...

and said, " Hello Pacific Ocean from Rosannah!"   

And one more picture now to say...hello dear blog readers from

 Jeannette :