Meme - Garden Bloggers Bloom Day April 2016 #AtoZChallenge

Today, on the 15th day of the month, and the mid point of the Blogging from A to Z Challenge, I participate in a monthly meme called Garden Bloggers Bloom Day.  Hosted by an Indiana blogger at May Dreams Gardens, gardeners from all over the world show off what is blooming in their yards (and/or houses) on the 15th of each month.

If you participate each month, it's a sneaky way of making you keep a gardening journal.

Here in my upstate New York zone 5b garden, it was a historic winter and early spring.  Low snowfall, an unforgettable Christmas Eve (December 24) with people partying outside on their patios, crocuses coming out in March.  What wasn't there to like?

Well, the snow we had on April 4 (followed by record cold that killed the already emerged cherry and magnolia blossoms (RIP), and turned daffodils into droopodils) then more snow.  But the good news is, the snow is gone and it appears that spring is finally here.  A spring that will be minus some of its signature blooms, but spring nevertheless.

Finally, I have more flowers than I have room to show you.

For the first time, I am grateful for my location - my blooms are always a few days later than those in the neighborhood, and that may have been what saved some of these flowers.

I propped up one of my droopodils against the side of the house, and it is quite alive and well.  Just drooped.  These came with the house, which we've owned for nearly 30 years.

My final jonquil bloom (not 100% sure if it is a jonquil or a tiny daffodil, but it was in full bloom when the snow came.)

My first white hyacinth is just starting to open.  Its lateness saved it - many area hyacinths were already in bloom.

My species tulip.

My first grape hyacinth.  Finally.

In the back, vinca.  These plants also came with the house, and are going strong.

Also, in the back, primroses are blooming furiously.  This is also not a modern variety.  The flowers are tiny, but are they prolific.

Sanguinaria, or bloodroot, is finishing up.

Meanwhile, as to my houseplants, kalanchoe is blooming.

My last Thanksgiving cactus bloom - although one of my plants is putting out blooms again.  This has been their best blooming season ever.

My last year Mother's Day moth orchid reblooming- here are some of the 14 blooms.  Not bad for a supermarket orchid plant, is it?

And last but not least, my gardening gamble - the April Rose camilla I bought in North Carolina last year.  It is out of its zone but I took a gamble in growing it in upstate New York.  I love camillas so.

It appears it has survived the late cold snap, and the one day it got to -10F.  Let's hope it lives up to its name.

Now, please click on the "May Dreams Gardens" link above, and visit other garden bloggers from all over the world.

Library Love #AtoZChallenge

Libraries.

No, I'm not doing a post about all the books in my house, although I should.  My son once joked I had a better selection than some book sales. Well, I think it was a joke.

Rather, I decided to blog about the place I'd rather be than anywhere in the world.  A public library.

Courtesy NYPL Digital Collections, free to use

Growing up in a city housing project in the Bronx of the late 1950's and early 1960's, I wanted to be a librarian.  But not just any librarian.  A bookmobile librarian.

Every Thursday except during the summer, I would visit the bookmobile that stopped by my housing project.  On the last visit before summer vacation, they would allow us to take out as many books as we wanted, and they were not due until September.

For me, Heaven!

Libraries were a haven to me.  They helped me become who I am today.

Now, libraries are in danger, such as this local library in Vestal, New York.

We all take local buildings and institutions for granted.  After all, they are there, we pass them every day, and we take them for granted. Even I do, sometimes.  I  pass this building five days a week, sometimes six.  But I rarely use this particular library.  I should.

This is Your Home Library in Johnson City New York, the closest library to where I live in upstate New York

This building was built partly in 1885 and partially in 1920.  It's a small library, but full of local history.  When you enter, in fact, there is a small display of local history - a portrait, newspaper clippings, and other memorabilia.

There is evidence of an earlier era wherever you turn in the small rooms.  It is not an easy library to use, I'll admit.  The Binghamton library, where I work during the week (built in 2000), is modern and spacious.  But Your Home Library has character.  And fireplaces.

Here's another one of the fireplaces.

What a comfy reading room.   If you aren't sure what to read, the display of books along the wall - picks by the staff - will lure you into an afternoon of reading.

And one more view of the building.

Local public libraries face many challenges today.  Their funds are constantly being cut.  People are loathe to vote in the tax increases they need to survive.  But these libraries are, increasingly, so much more than a place where you can walk in with a card and walk out with one or more books to read.  They provide internet access, wi-fi,  computers for those who don't own one, job hunting services, e books, CDs and DVDs, magazines, free tax preparation done by volunteers, free databases, and so much more. One of our local libraries even features yoga classes on Fridays.

In fact, the photo I started this post with is from a digital collection of the New York (City) Public Library, and anyone can down load it, free of charge.

As I used to say in the 60's, "isn't that awesome?"

What is your local library worth to you? 

"L" post for the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

Kaatskills #AtoZChallenge

On K day in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge, some may object that I am cheating, that I am blogging about the Catskill Mountains of upstate New York and not the Kaatskill.

Kaatskill is a variant spelling of what we know today as the Catskills, but, in 1656, this was called the "Landt van Kats Kill" on a map.

A small part of the Cat...I mean Kaatskills jut into the eastern part of the county (Broome) where I live but most of it lies to the east.  For almost thirty years, we traveled through the Kaatskills on our way to visit my mother in law.  

This past summer we had to make the trip almost every weekend for several months, while we helped to take care of my elderly mother in law after surgery and downsized her so we could bring her up here to be closer to us and a couple of other relatives.

The road stretched before us, an almost three hour trip each way.

Remember Woodstock?  You are probably aware the Woodstock music festival of August, 1969 did not take place in Woodstock but in the town of Bethel, in the Katskill Mountains.  There is now a museum on the property and, sadly, we never had a chance to visit it.  We still hope to, one day.

 A large Jewish tourist population (and a number of year round residents) makes for a fascinating selection of kosher baked goods at a local supermarket.

A bench in the Kaatskill town of Roscoe, which calls itself Trout Town USA.

As grueling as the weekly drives were (especially for my spouse, who did the driving), I have some fond memories of some of the things we learned, and experienced, in those several months.  Strange how life is like that.  The hard work, the tiredness, drop away from memory and what is left are the lessons life has taught us.

Like sands through the hourglass, so are the Days of Our Lives.

Today was "K" day in the Blogging from A to Z Challenges.

Journey #AtoZChallenge

She was feeling every one of her almost 90 years.

She was taking a journey, a journey back to the area where she had lived all of her life, except for the last eight months.  She was going down to see friends and relatives she hadn't seen in months or years.

At one time the journey would have been easy.  Now, it hurt.  She couldn't even get in or out of the car without the help of her oldest son.

He helped her with a smile and with patience, but it wasn't the same as doing it without help.

Her son drove her through the Catskills, as a late snowstorm colored the ground white.  She remembered how, once, there were thriving resorts everywhere.  Jewish comedians would come and entertain the crowds.  She was part of that crowd several times.   Those days were long gone.

The winds chilled her at the diner where they ate lunch.  Afterwards, snow crusted the mountains in the distance.   The journey was not yet half completed.

Her son took her past the house she had lived in for 52 years.  Now, strangers lived there.  They had painted it.  Flags she never would have used to decorate it flew in the front yard.  For months, she had not thought of her new home, near her two sons, as home.  But obviously, this was not home any more.  Other people would live the journey of their lives there.  She had moved on.  She could no longer cope with the large property, the stairs.  She was living in senior housing now, about three hours away by car.

She was down in her home area for a birthday party - her 104 year old sister in law. 

The journey home was hard and tiring.

Finally, her son helped her into her apartment.  He turned on the light.

She was home.

"J" day on the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.  Tomorrow, another post on the Catskill Mountains of upstate New York.

Irises #AtoZChallenge

The simple iris taught my spouse and I a lesson, a long time ago.  I'd like to share that lesson with the Blogging from A to Z Challenge, on I day.


There are so many kinds of irises.  Some are sweetly scented, like my Kool-Aid irises.

 Early spring irises, taken last month by an in law who lives in New York City.

 More early spring irises.

Now, for our story.

When my spouse and I were in our 20's, we bought our first house.  My spouse was an airman in the United States Air Force.  We didn't think we could ever be homeowners, but the couple who sponsored us in spouse's first duty posting were homeowners, and they encouraged us.  We bought a small brick two bedroom home in the South Central neighborhood of Wichita, Kansas.  It had a large, fenced yard.  We imagined our garden there and went to work dreaming of when spring would come.

Spring came, and with it, a bunch of plants with fan shaped leaves started to come up along the fence.

Spouse looked at the line of leaves with his brow furrowed.  "I know what those are", he said.  "I saw these growing in some vacant land behind my childhood home.  We don't want them."  With that, he took his shovel, and dug them all up.  And there were a lot of them- it was a long fence line.

But a couple of more erupted after the dig out.  We left them there, busy with other projects.  One day, they flowered.

They were beautiful bearded irises.

My spouse had dug up a long line of expensive, beautiful, bearded irises because he made an assumption and didn't have the patience to wait to see what the plants would do.

We learned our lesson.  We never did anything like that again.  We think first.  We wait to see what will come up.

Life is like that - a series of learning from your mistakes.

So are the days of our lives.

Dawn of the Dead Cherry Blossoms

The strangest spring I can remember in upstate New York continues.

It was only a week ago yesterday that an early spring was upon us.  But now it seems like an eternity ago, that walk we took on the west side of Binghamton.

The cherry blossoms were opening on that gorgeous Saturday.

The magnolias were starting to bloom. 

The birds were singing, and all was well in our world.

Alas, we knew what was in our forecast, here in the Binghamton, New York area.  We thought it was a late April's Fool joke.

A guest photographer took this, near LaFayette, New York, April 4

It wasn't a joke, especially when the temperature dropped to around 16 degrees F (-9C)

When the snow melted on the 6th, this is what we found.

The cherry blossoms had died.

The daffodils were now droopodils.

Some children must have had fun with this April snowman.  The rest of us said "bah humbug".

Then, on Thursday, it started to snow flurry again.  As for the rest of it, I don't even want to blog about it.  Another hard freeze last night.  The effects on the apple crop remain to be seen.

I knew this was going to happen.

I wish it had been wrong.

Climate change has struck again.

Tomorrow, back to the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.

Hendersonville #AtoZChallenge

Be careful what you read, especially if you are a bit idealistic.  You never know what reading material will do to you.

In 1977, I got a new job in my then-home of Wichita, Kansas, after several months of temporary work.

My spouse was in the United States Air Force, and I followed him to Wichita for a posting at McConnell Air Force base.  After some searching, I found a full time job.

The job required me to take a three day training in Manhattan, Kansas, a city that will never be confused with Manhattan Island in New York City.

There, on a break, a magazine caught my eye - The Mother Earth News.  In those days, and perhaps nowadays, too, this magazine taught the virtues of the simple, homesteading life.

We ended up, two years later, heading to Northwest Arkansas (about a five hour drive) and buying rural land.  What happened next is a story for another time.

Mother Earth News, at the time, was headquartered in Hendersonville, North Carolina.  I chuckled reading this person's description of visiting their headquarters in 1979. (And, for the record, neither my spouse nor I have ever been substance-smoking hippie types).

In 2012, spouse and I made our own pilgrimage to Hendersonville, just to see what this western North Carolina town, about 22 miles from Asheville, North Carolina was like. Mother Earth News had left years before, so we were curious as to what the city had become like.  And what we found there were...

Bears.

Patriotic bears.

Bears decorated with sort-of a Mother Earth theme.

Bears decorated with trees.

Bears decorated with children.

What stories these bears could tell.

So, we never did find the Mother Earth News that made our lives take an unexpected turn all those years ago.  Still, without that turn, we never would have shown up, years later, in Hendersonville to make friends with these bears.

Such is life.

"H" Day for Blogging from A to Z challenge.

Green-Wood Cemetery #AtoZChallenge

It was the cemetery people were dying to get into.

No, really.  Years ago, it was, for a time, the second most popular tourist attraction in the United States.

In Brooklyn, a borough of New York City, you are not that far from the skyscrapers of Manhattan but in many ways, it is a different world.  Many tourists never venture from the canyons of midtown Manhattan.  They should.

They should come to Brooklyn, once a major city itself.

In its midst, there is a green gem that must be experienced to get the true experience of New York City.  Today, we visit the final home of many of its most famous residents.

There are two types of people - those who love to visit cemeteries when they are in a city, and those who are totally spooked by the thought.

I am one of the former, and today, I'd like to show you a National Historic Landmark in the heart of Brooklyn.

Green-Wood Cemetery was founded in 1838.  As its website explains:

"By the early 1860s, it had earned an international reputation for its magnificent beauty and became the prestigious place to be buried, attracting 500,000 visitors a year, second only to Niagara Falls as the nation’s greatest tourist attraction. Crowds flocked there to enjoy family outings, carriage rides, and sculpture viewing in the finest of first generation American landscapes. Green-Wood’s popularity helped inspire the creation of public parks, including New York City’s Central and Prospect Parks."

Come enter its gates.

This is what you will see.

Tranquility Garden

Gardens.

Water features.

An overlook.

There are also, well, graves.  Graves such as those of Louis Comfort Tiffany.

And composer (think "West Side Story" and a lot more)  Leonard Bernstein.

Death, after all, is part of life.  That's what we tell ourselves.  But one day, we will all face it.

Like sands through the hourglass, so are the Days of our Lives.

"G" day on the Blogging from A to Z Challenge.