Foreign flowers

I'm told these are wild orchids from Spain. Didn't know orchids grew in that climate. Didn't see any when I traveled there. [Xema Romero photo]



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In my secret garden

If I ever manage to settle down somewhere, in my garden I would grow these flowers. Monkshood. Don't believe I've ever seen growing anywhere in real life. They're selling them at a local flower sale here in June.

Monkshood is originally from Europe, but has now naturalized in the Mid-Atlantic and Northeast regions of North America. It’s a stately, upright plant with thick, leathery leaves and beautiful helmet-shaped blue flowers held high on erect spikes. Although it will take some sun, it is perfect for the back of a shady border. In Europe, it was used to kill wolves and mad dogs, hence its other common name "Wolfsbane."



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Scenes from my past - Part Eleven

Before I-84 was built we drove past the Pink Dinosaur many times. Even after the highway was there, I would make a point to drive on the slow road just to say hello. Sometimes I went into the store. It was a small little mineral shop run by old guy who really loved rocks as much I do. It's gone now, but I still have a gem I bought there around 1970. It's basically a small bit of tumbled smoky quartz. Think I paid a nickel for it, but maybe it was 25 cents. It was called an Apache Tear.

I think the low white building was a bowling alley. I bowled there a few times but mostly we went to the Bowl-a-Rama in town. They had the best pinball machines ever.



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Grin and bear it.

Would love to see this in person someday. Swarovski Kristallwelten in Wattens, Austria. [photo via Amazing World]



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Happy Valley

One of the things I miss the most about living in New England is the woods with all their cold little streams and tiny waterfalls. This is Hop Brook. Belchertown, MA. [Steve Toutant photo]



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Scenes from my past - Part Ten

This postcard says it's the high school, but by the time I went there they had a built a new, bigger one outside of town. So I went to this school in the eight grade. My homeroom was on the right hand corner of the building, third floor. The state college was right next to it.

When I was four years old we lived a block away from here. I remember walking past the school to play on the stairs to the college campus while we waited to meet my Dad.

Across the street was an elderly woman who was my mother's friend. Don't really remember her but recall she gave me Vienna cookies. And I can still envision the massive front door with a big oval glass window and lace curtains. [photo via]



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Cool runnings

These days you never know if a photo is real or photoshopped, but I'm pretty sure this is a real thing. Never seen anything like it. Spiral iceberg, Antarctica.



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Sign of the cross

The history of this flower is rooted in Christian symbolism. Not that religious myself, but when I lived up north I always wanted to grow it. When I moved to the south I discovered they grow wild in vacant lots though the wild variety isn't quite as glamorous as this cultivated one.

A secret garden

Love natural gates into beautiful places. I think this is in Portland, Oregon. Photo by architect41 via this site.



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Scenes from my past - Part Nine

This place doesn't look like much but it was the closest market to our house. It was a store when you could buy everything you needed in a hurry. When I was nine years old my mother would often send me to the Henry Street market to pick up milk or lunch meat or pork chops for dinner. They had a big rack of candy bars. For a nickel you could buy a giant Hershey bar or a Sky Bar or maybe a really big Baby Ruth. All the soda came in returnable glass bottles. The 36 oz were worth a nickel, which we traded in for said candy. And they had spinning racks of comic books from Archie, to superheros to true romance. But they wouldn't sell you cigarettes there if you were underage. You had to go to Harry the Gyp for that. He'd sell them to anybody.

The store was about six blocks from my house. You had to cross two busy streets. Nobody thought anything about letting a nine year old make the trek alone.

And right across the street, back then, was Demo's Dry Cleaning. It belonged to my neighborbood friend Geraldine's father. Sadly, I don't have a photo of that.

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The Virgin Mary's tears

These have always been one of my favorite flowers. They smell so sweet and a little bouquet of cut flowers will last a long time in a tiny vase.



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You can keep your hat on

I learned to love horse racing at annual Hampshire County Fair but the Kentucky Derby has always been more about the hats than the horses for me. Lots more hats here.



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The Magic Bus

More than a little disappointed this future as envisioned by Science and Mechanics magazine in 1950 didn't come true. [via Roger Wilkerson.]



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Let a smile be your umbrella

Saw this on the internet. It's a great idea to stay dry in a downpour but I can't quite imagine how you close it when the car arrives. [Photo via Guts McTavish]



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Down on the bayou

I've been to New Orleans. It's an amazing town. Had some incredible experiences in the few days I spent there. Some were incredibly magical and fun. Some were too horrible to relive. But this painting by Diane Millsap reminds me of the magic.



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