Great Spangled Fritillary on Butterfly Weed at Deep Cut Gardens “More than any other group of animals, butterflies look as if they were designed in art school… Butterflies are two pairs of wings flapping about in broad daylight. They don’t have teeth or claws. They can’t fly very fast. Their abdomens make for a quick snack. Art is their defense.” – from An Obsession with Butterflies: Our Long Love Affair with a Singular Insect by Sharman Apt Russell
My PetBunny friend Michelle, has been sharing *then and now* pics of her family on her blog and it got me thinking and made me dig out my scrapbooks. I’ve got gazillions of photos that for years I’ve been trying to organize and scrapbooking is a fun way to do it. I started scrapbooking when my husband and I were first married and have only gotten up to 1995 or so (all of two years’ worth). Every year I get more behind. I haven’t done a single scrapbook page since I started this blog.
Anyway, I thought it might be fun to share some *then and now* pics of our little house. I have plenty of *nowish* pics, like this one above from 1995, but very few *th
en* pics. The house we live in was built by my husband’s grandfather and uncle in the 50’s. I have only one very large black-and-white photo that is too large to scan, but shows the orchard that used to border our property and the now busy road out front is just dirt. The pic at right is my husband’s aunt and uncle during construction. They lived here for 40 some years before my husband and I. We haven’t changed much at all in our years here, other than cosmetic changes to make the place feel like our own. My husband grew up playing here as a child and having Thanksgiving Dinner with his family here, and in his aunt’s later years after his uncle passed away took care of the lawn and anythiing his aunt needed. People who have lived in the neighborhood for years often comment on how much my husband resembles his uncle.
In the meandering sort of way my mind works, the photo of my husband’s aunt and uncle brought to mind this pic of my mom and brother standing on the lot that was to become the house I grew up in. My parents moved here *to the shore*, as they 
called it, from Jersey City in the 50’s. My dad told me how they used to drive down the Parkway on weekends to check on the home’s progress. Our development was also surrounded by farms and orchards in the 50’s – no more; it’s nothing but highways and strip malls now. My childhood home was sold last year after my dad passed away and I drive by whenever I’m in the neighborhood. It’s really very strange to see the place that I have thought of as *home* for so many years belonging to someone else. I am glad, though, to see children’s toys in the driveway and a sense of newness to the place where I grew up. Makes me wonder what my husband’s aunt and uncle would think of all we’ve done here to make this place our home.
The master gardeners have been getting some good press here lately. This story appeared in today’s paper and describes how this year’s class has been donating all of the produce raised in their garden to the local food pantry as part of the Plant a Row for the Hungry program.
Unfortunately I’ve not been able to participate due to my work schedule (it’s that way for me with most of the really neat things the MG’s do), but I’ve been ogling the garden since June on my lunch breaks – it’s located in back of the building I work in. So far they’ve raised and donated more than 500 pounds of produce. Wow! Way to go.
I’ve been casually collecting decoys for the last year or two; I especially like shorebird decoys. My favorite of this little group is the American Avocet. I bought it last year when my husband and I went to the Ocean County Decoy and Gunning Show at the Tuckerton Seaport. The seaport is a great place to visit if you’re interested in the maritime history of the Jersey Shore, specifically the Barnegat Bay region. The show features local artists and carvers and has some fun contests like duck and goose calling, decoy rigs, whittling, and model sneakboxes. There’s also usually retriever contests and lots of Lab puppies running around. I’m already looking forward to this year’s show on September 24th and 25th.
Today’s great accomplishment was cleaning off my desk so that I could take a pic and show off my decoys. You can see the rest of my little collection along the top of the bookshelf. What a proje
ct! I’m amazed at the way things pile up around here in just one month’s time, despite my being good about throwing stuff away. So now I’ve got a clean dust-free desk and lots of surface space to pile more stuff on. All the important papers have been filed away never to be seen again. Someday I’ll learn to be organized.
Should you not have the chance to travel to Naples to see Mount Vesuvius you could settle for this miniature replica in the rockery at Deep Cut Gardens. At one time this thing actually spewed smoke – crime boss Vito Genovese once owned the property, which he fashioned after an Italian estate, and hired Italian workers to build hillside rock gardens on the steep slope behind the renovated farmhouse.
The Sargent’s weeping hemlocks are the jewels of the rockery. They are 
impressively sized and form a shady green canopy over the cascading pools set into the hillside. These pools were dry and quiet for years, but have recently been refurbished, bringing a delightful cooling effect to this area of the park. On the day that I visited it was more than 90 degrees, but cool enough in the shade of the hemlocks. The gardens here are planted with many of
the ericaceous species one expects to find in a rockery, and recently the pool borders have been planted with a variety of ferns and other moisture lovers. The small waterfalls were very popular with birds like the robin that I photographed, as well as goldfinches and chipping sparrows that seemed to have a nest at the bottom of the hillside garden.
The shade of the hemlocks leads down the hillside and into the blazing sun of the parterre, which is finally a work in progress. It looks like park staff is beginning to lay down the outlines of what will be a colorful perennial and rose display garde
n. At the end of the parterre you can just make out the vine-covered pergola. I met an older gentleman on the day of my visit who told me that he comes to the park and practices his tango steps beneath the pergola! He says it is quiet and cool and like a whole other world there. Farther in the distance is the meadow and pond, beneath which lies the swimming pool that Genovese had built. I’ll share those pics on another day.
I also blogged about Deep Cut Gardens on 7/24/06.
Too many of my container plants look like this one. The heat of the last week has been too much for them, despite my morning and evening watering routine. I’m embarassed even to post a photo of the pot of nasturtiums that was so pretty a month ago; it has long since given up the ghost. The geraniums are happy, though. So are the flowering maple trees and the angel trumpets. Anything in a small pot is toast.
This heatwave is supposed to break tonight with a *cold front* moving through from the west. Forecasts for tomorrow promise highs in the upper 80’s, rather than the 100 degree temps we’ve had since Tuesday. Hopefully the humidity will go down; the heat index the last few days was between 110 and 115 degrees! Entirely too hot for the likes of me. I feel like I’m living in a cave, with the shades drawn and all the windows closed to keep the heat out. I’ve even been working in the near dark at my job – we’ve had all non-essential lights and appliances off for the last few days in an effort to conserve energy. Ridiculous considering that the AC keeps the building so cold that I have to sit at my desk with a blanket over my shoulders. Today I decided to do a little energy conserving of my own and took the afternoon off and came home and went to sleep, in hopes of gettiing rid of the headache I’ve had for the last 3 days.
The promised thunderstorms haven’t come yet. While I was out watering this evening and adding some frigid well water to the pond (the fish haven’t boiled yet – what were we thinking putting that pond in full sun?) there were some distant rumblings of thunder and a light hot breeze, but that’s it so far. I’m hoping for a spectacular thunderstorm with drenching rain. I want to be able to turn off the AC, open the windows, and fall asleep listening to the katydids and crickets.
“August is the year at early harvest, a farm wife with a baby napping in the crib, a preserving kettle on the stove, fryers in the freezer, new potatoes in the pot, and a husband in the hayfield baling the second cutting. August is tomatoes ripening and the insistent note of the cicada punctuating the heat of midafternoon. August is the smell of corn pollen, and the taste of roasting ears, and the stain of blackberry juice on the fingers.
August is the flame of phlox in the dooryard and hollyhocks down by the roadside blooming now up at their tips. August is Summer squash by the bushel, and Winter squash swelling beneath the broad parasol of trailing leaves. August is ripe oats. August is a languid river and a springhouse brook reduced to a trickle.
August is a few impatient asters trying to compete with late daisies; it is daylilies all through blooming and looking ragged and outworn; it is the first sprays of goldenrod in the uncut fence row. August is baby rabbits almost grown, and pilfering in the garden; it is fledglings all feathered and on the wing; it is a cow, her Spring calf forgotten, chewing a leisurely cud in the shade of a tired elm tree at the side of the meadow.
August is the heavy grapes in the vineyard, and the lacy leaf where the Japanese beetle feasted in metallic glitter; it is wild grapes festooned on the trees at the riverbank; it is algae on the pond and the fat green thumbs of cattails in the swamp, and ironweed purpling, and vervain in full bloom. August is a hastening sun, earlier to bed and later to rise. August is Summer thinking of the cut and color of her Autumn costume.” – Hal Borland, Sundial of the Seasons, 1964
HURT HAWKS by Robinson JeffersThis is the only poem I know by Robinson Jeffers, but it has troubled me since I first read it. I sense the author’s great respect for the hawk and understand how that respect led him to give it *freedom* as he did, but don’t know that others would appreciate why it was the proper thing to do. Proper isn’t the right word for it, maybe truthful or honest would be a better word. Truthful to the nature of the hawk and all birds of prey. I might even extend that to all predators in similar circumstances.
I feel a deep sense of reverence for birds of prey. For wild birds of prey. For those that are captive, like the Bald Eagle above, I feel pity. Something so great as an eagle, an owl, a Harris’ hawk, or even a little kestral is diminished by being held captive. That is a given, I’d guess. Captivity has its’ merits, but I question whether what is in the bird’s best interest isn’t sometimes lost in the name of *education*.
These birds were on display last week at the county fair. Very popular show; this guy brings his act there most years. Usually I stay away because it bothers me so. This year I waited out a thunderstorm in his tent and took some pics and tried to decide if I was just being overly critical. After mulling it over for a few days while Blogger decided if it would let me make this post with pictures (it won’t) – I’ve decided that this guy and his *show* aren’t doing right by the birds. The general public loves being able to get so close – within arms reach- and the opportunity (for a few $$$) to be photographed *holding* one of these birds is a big draw. But to anyone who knows anything about them, or who respects them and can recognize the signs of their stress; it is something very far from worthy. Their was no respect or reverence here. Very little in the way of education – all show, no substance.
There are organizations that do this right. I volunteer for one of the best and know its educators to be fierce protectors of the birds in their care. That is how is ought to be.
Note: I apologize for the links to pics on Photobucket, but Blogger just won’t load these.
So. Our county fair is this week. I LOVE the fair and look forward to it all year long. We decided to go tonight because the weather forecast for the remainder of the week looks awfully hot. Plus, some friends from work were going and my co-worker’s daughter was singing in the *talent showcase*. We got there late and I missed my friend’s daughter and then this terribly rude woman behind us actually put her hands on me and pulled me down into my seat because I was blocking her view of the stage as I said hello to my friend. I was so angry I nearly spit. At her. Rudeness abounds in NJ whenever you get a bunch of us together in 90 degree heat. Add women who have been paying through the nose for singing lessons for their precious one-of-a-kind daughters and a video camera and you’re just asking for a catfight.
Glutton for punishment that I am, I always visit the 4-H bunny tent. I walk around feeling bad for all the overweight bunnies panting in the heat on wire-floored cages without a scrap of hay in front of them. Today at least some had frozen water bottles to keep cool with. I really don’t understand the point of the wh
ole thing – the 4-H people won’t talk to any of the people streaming by, there is no educational information made available for those who are interested in learning something about rabbits. Nothing but these bunnies laying there like rag dolls. Oh and plenty of signs for bunnies for sale (when the 4-H project is over, of course). Every year I fantasize about setting up an alternative bunny display, with my bunnies in an x-pen with toys and litterboxes, so that people can get to see something other than a bunny in a cage being boring. Can anyone explain the whole 4-H philosophy to me in a way that makes sense? What exactly are they teaching kids in the small animal programs that is socially responsible? I took this pic of a French Lop for Michelle – this big boy was the only one who looked comfortable – notice the *happy feet*.
I have some more pics and ranting to do, but wonder of wonders! Blogger won’t let me load anymore pics! Why am I not surprised? Maybe Blogger’s trying to tell me that I’m too cranky tonight and should just go to bed.
The fair got rained out tonight – my husband and I stood around in the tractor tent for about an hour waiting for the rain to let up. Hopefully I can get back before the fair ends. I didn’t even get to see the pig races or the lumberjack show!
