I still don't have much to write about, but want to try and get back into the habit of posting. So here's a quickie.
Last September, Mary Lee and I went to the RAFA exhibit at a small gallery in Brockport. In the corner of the gallery was a very cool plant, which I admired, and was given a cutting by the nice lady at the gallery. I later learned the plant is called a "Walking Iris", and is grown in gardens in more temperate parts of the world. But it does well as a houseplant as well.
So I brought my babies home and put them in water to grow roots. Over the summer, they had a nice partly sunny spot on the screen porch. Then a few weeks ago I noticed it had a blossom stalk coming up!
It has been blossoming, one or two at a time, for a couple of weeks now.
In the morning before it blossoms, the buds are like yellow Hershey kisses |
And then- pop!- they open up |
Isn't it lovely? |
From what I've read, after the blossoms are all gone, it will grow small plantlets, like spider plant babies, on the blossoms stalk. Soon I'll have babies to share too.
I read an interesting article a couple of weeks ago about "dying green." I have always believed the body is an empty shell, and what becomes of it is not important. So spending a lot of money and exposing people to toxic chemicals, wasting valuable land resources for burial... just doesn't make sense to me. Everyone in my family has been cremated, so I accepted that as the way it's done. However, I'm thinking I may opt for the greenest option. I kind of like the thought that someday the chemical components of my body can nourish a tree somewhere, or maybe some exotic flowers.
I am grateful for:
Being able to sleep without coughing last night.
A nice meeting with the ArtCGirlz.
The ability to start again after a "fail"- if I am willing to try.
This adorable video of Jonathan in his jumper thing for the first time.
I finally figured out where all my data was going! ( I think)
I remember reading about a "green" cemetery near Ithaca . . . perhaps you have already found info about it . . .
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