Camelia Yuletide

This'll be my first ever attempt at growing a Camelia, and I went with Yuletide for the red blooms with big yellow centers during December and January. It needs to be protected from dry winds, so our Santa Anas are a concern. I'm going to try blanketing the plant for protection as needed. We'll see. . .

What's Cookin'

It's awesome to be able to plant stuff in late fall when everything's going dead or dormant in many zones. The newest culinary additions to my garden are cilantro and beets (a mix including golden ones). Pictured are the little baby sproutlings of each — beets first, then cilantro.

Pink — Gotta Be Pink — Mums

When mom and dad were here, I think I drove them both a little nuts shopping for pink mums for this terra-cotta colored pot. They had to be this color pink, and nobody seemed to have a healthy plant this color, so we kept on looking. Eventual success was tendered by Do It Center in Tujunga. I've been quite pleased, especially during breakfasts on the patio, and I insist that it was worth the effort to find flowers of the correct color. Here's the plant one and two weeks later.

Kalanchoe

Constant blooms, extremely low maintenance.

I Heard a Fly Buzz. . .

Autumn Agapanthus (Lily of the Nile)

Acanthis, Recovering from the Heat

This poor guy died to the ground a few times this summer and fall when it got so dry and hot.

Belvi Queen 2

Not so sun bleached, appreciative of some rain.

Blooming Now — Birds of Paradise

Baltimore

The rooms, above. Below, our initials & Violet's pawprints in the concrete near our old house on W. 34th St.



The historic Domino Sugar plant and the Fell's Point pier where we got hitched. Below, standing in the spot on the pier where we said "I do."



Last, water taxi, Inner Harbor.

Belvi Queen

From Sans Souci Nursery near Baltimore to my Austin garden and then to my garden here in Califronia, this is the first of the oft transplanted iris varieties to bloom, third flower.

Coo-coo for Carrion Flowers

Noticed that flies act totally mesmerized and/or doped up as they hang out on/in the carrion flowers. It's really weird to watch them. We must have looked mesmerized and/or doped up ourselves as we stared.

Sad for Deukmejian

As anyone who visits my blog knows, Deukmejian Wilderness Park is one of my favorite places in the whole world. BP and I take our dog there at least once a week, and I take hundreds and hundreds of pictures there.


Since the Station Fire chewed up our area, the public hasn't been allowed in the park, but pictures were posted at the City of Glendale website: http://www.ci.glendale.ca.us/parks/deukmejian_wilderness_park.asp. Above is the best before-and-after I could put together. On the left is my picture from three to four weeks ago. On the right, a picture I've borrowed from the Glendale site. (Please do follow the link to see more of the City's post-blaze pictures.) Note the boulder and large California Live Oak in both pictures above.

Next, an assortment of my pictures in Deukmejian throughout the seasons.




This post is intended as my own sort of prayer for the people, homes, flora and fauna threatened, harmed, or lost in the fire.

Controlled Burns, Station Fire

Views from my backyard. Some first day back home and back to school.

Respiratory Refuge at Huntington Beach

Our window unit air conditioner apparently cannot run without sucking in the thick, acrid smoke from outside. It kind of filters out the ash, but so what. The wild fire had doubled in size, the smoke/ash were way worse than before, and we hadn't slept a wink. Respiratory distress had joined general physical discomfort and exhaustion. With predicted temperatures over 100 degrees and humidity in the teens, we fled in search of breathable, cooler air. And found it in Huntington.


We'd been meaning to check out the dog beach, anyway. It's a very popular spot, much more crowded than the places we usually go. Gentle waves close to the shore (breaking farther out), so a good swimming area for Violet and us. Perfect weather and water temperature. Fantastic place to watch surfers. And to spot fake boobs, which, of course, isn't difficult. I guess it's an Orange County thing — or pair of things.


It was a little surreal to be about fifty miles away from our house where the air and weather were gorgeous and to look back and see the smoke, "our" smoke, billowing on the horizon. That's what the picture below shows. (It kind of looks like the smoke is coming from the oil refinery, but that stuff is nearby in Huntington. The smoke is over Mount Wilson, back by our house. Sorry I don't have a better picture.)


Our hotel was actually in Costa Mesa on the other side of the 405. Considering our budget and dog-friendly needs, it was a very nice place, but when we got back there, everything on TV was horrible news about the fire. Mom & Dad insisted we stay in the hotel at least another night, and it turned out that we needed to. Even with nice accommodations, the time wasn't really a vacation because we were constantly aware of having fled, afraid of what was going on at home, worried about the expense, and most of the time, doing school work on our computers, which we had lugged with us out of necessity. I was kind of freaking out about my first class meetings of the fall semester — would I be able to go back to the house for books, clothes, etc. before my Monday class?

The Fire Burns On

The fire up at Angeles Crest continues (link: http://abclocal.go.com/kabc/livenow?id=6984738). Last night we got an automated phone message from the Glendale Police & Fire Dept. with info. about the fire and the evacuation of hundreds of homes in neighboring La Cañada. We were assured that we were not in immediate danger of evacuation. It seems like they really have it together. I'm impressed.

Then at 2:30 a.m, we had an unrelated medical emergency. I didn't have my camera on the way to the E.R. (who thinks to bring their camera to the E.R.?), but it was crazy to see the glowing embers in V-shapes all along the south side (our side) of the mountain range. The fire had gotten a lot closer, and apparently, they really can't do the aerial water dumps and so forth at night. In the beams of our headlights as we sat at what seemed like every stoplight on the empty streets between here and Montrose, bits of ash drifted like snow flurries. Eerie.

Things were resolved at hospital. Things should be alright. But obviously, last night was considerably more traumatic than anticipated, and sleep was lost. By the time we returned home, the smoke was so thick that we had to turn off the air conditioning despite the heat. At seven, when I let Violet out to pee, the whole sky around our house was the color of orange sherbet. The air felt thick. Ash was settling on my plants, which are sadly suffering from the dryness, heat, and my efforts at water conservation. I'm not sure that my newly potted Australian Tree Fern is going to make it.

These pictures are from between noon and about two o'clock today. The smoke has started drifting away from us more, so you can kind of stand to breathe. Some people we see are wearing masks, though.


Above: view of my house from across the street. Below: view from my back yard over the rear fence.


Finally, below, our friendly neighborhood Scientologists catch this view when visiting the Mission of the Foothills Dianetics Center in downtown Montrose (the white and green building). We were on our way back from a delicious lunch at La Cabanita, which helped ease some recent tensions, when I grabbed this shot.

Wild Fire at Angeles Crest (& a Flaming Convocation)

Bill Viola (link: http://www.billviola.com/) spoke today at the Otis faculty convocation. Insights from the Tibetan Book of the Dead, the Buddha, and the Dali Lama. He showed us a piece from his collaboration with the Los Angeles Philharmonic on the opera Tristan and Isolde. It's a video, normally projected 30 feet high (but for us, about 5 feet high), that represents the last images in a dying man's mind's eye. (Viola said "mind's eye." I feel uncomfortable using it.) A figure is silhouetted against a massive wall of flames, falls forward into a body of water, and the flames gradually morph into rippling water.

Meanwhile, there's this wild fire blazing back at home, just a jog over in Angeles Crest National Forest (link: http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2009/08/angeles-national-forest-blaze-threatening-ranger-station.html). The fire changed directions since yesterday and is therefore heading this way, threatening a Rangers' Station and nearing peoples' homes. After dinner and Mad Men (we've started the series from the beginning via Netflix), BP, Violet, and I went for a walk. The sight of the smoke and fire kept me at the verge of tears, and not just because smoke burns your eyes. Those helicopters, planes, and tankers look like tiny gnats. The word that comes to mind is "futile" when I see how puny a literal ton of water appears up there, but I know that firefighters routinely contain these things. It never seems easy. Fighting. Nevertheless, I feel confident that we'll be safe—that they'll stop the fire before it gets this far. This kind of thing definitely makes me get the whole heroic fireman image.

As for the pictures, first is our house at dusk with smoke. Awed by the smoke alone.


Next, we crossed the street to see the flames have definitely advanced. That's our green house. Not it's most flattering angle.


Walked two blocks north to our main drag, Foothill Blvd. View across Von's grocery store parking lot. You can see the light from one of the planes as well as what I think is a firetruck or tanker.


Below, Von's again, but a view that better shows the visible width of the fire. The other pictures don't show the flames at the west (left) end.


At the intersection of Foothill and Pennsylvania Ave. Dad will be happy to see that there's a dentist on the corner. (He notes that dentists always seem to have corner offices here.)


The air quality, as you can imagine, is terrible. If we didn't know better, we'd think our next-door neighbor's house was burning to the ground. (BP, I'm biting my lip.)

Malibu Monkey

At Leo Carillo State Beach, Violet just can't keep it together. She's barks, for the duration, "Throw it again! Throw it! Throw it! Throw! Throw! Throw!"

Washer/Drier Area Before & After

Before: Summer 2008, we had already disposed of the rusty old stinky-water filled washer and its mate. We had not yet broken the kitchen window while gutting the kitchen — while pulling down the old ceiling sheetrock, to be precise.


After: New kitchen window. New plumbing/electrical. Paint. Water & energy efficient appliances, and just completed, the enclosure, shown here with doors open. . . then closed. It took a year of procrastination plus a week of labor, but we're thrilled with the result. (It's not the indoor laundry room ya'll mansion-dwellers are used to, but this'll work for our situation.)

The Getty Center's Gardens

BP and I made a nice Saturday of The Getty Center. Even though there's no shortage of great art there, my favorite parts are the gardens, especially the Central Garden designed by artist Robert Irwin and the cactus garden pictured above. Nice view of the ocean, too.


Left: Succulent arrangements galore. Inspiration for my own. Center: The center of the Central Garden features an azalea maze, which appears to float in the water feature. Wonder if ducks get lost The Shining-style? Here you see the surrounding flower garden in the fore. Right: Aloe plants that are a tiny bit larger than my own (in the cactus garden).








Above: A thorny-leafed fellow I intend to identify. (Later: Not having much luck.) Below, a beautiful, mysterious flowering vine. (Later: It's Delechampia dioscoreifolia, called "purple wings" or "Costa Rican butterfly vine.")



You know my interest in snails. This is climbing Snail Vine (Vigna caracalla). Nice, huh?



Finally, a pleasure to see Maryland's State Flower, the Black-Eyed Susan, flourishing here.