“…Winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!”
Uh huh. Coleridge didn’t have to endure what I do; in fact, the previous min-max thermometer I owned was made in England, and one night it got so cold the thermometer just gave up.
This is the face of winter right now. The thermometer says about 18, which is no dream of spring.
A few scanned slides of plants in the rock gardens, to cheer me up. I suppose these were taken back in the last century.
Then some cactus pictures, to remind myself that the cactus sale at DBG is only eleven weeks away. Time, even frozen time, passes quickly. Cactus sale …..cactus sale ……are my hands trembling? Maybe it’s just the cold.
In De Quincey’s Confessions of an English Opium Eater, we learn that Coleridge tried to cure himself of his opium addiction by paying people to stand guard in front of the shops, to keep him from buying opium, and then he would bribe them to let him in. I employ a more subtle approach.
“Excuse me, but I do believe that plant was grown especially for me. Do you mind?”
“I looked at these plants earlier, and they all have a disease that’s very difficult to cure. If you would go over to that area in the corner, you might find something you like.”
“These aren’t hardy here; they brought the wrong plants by mistake. If you would go over to that area in the corner …etc.”
“There’s a game on in the other room.”
I did, as I think I mentioned, injure my back trying to carry all the plants at the DBG Mother’s Day sale, and the lesson I learned here is that I should plan to nurse my injured back again.
This last one is what Anderson, in The Cactus Family, calls Echinocereus mojavensis. The curved spines being diagnostic. Cindy wanted to draw this, so I dug up the whole plant and potted it, and it spent about a year in the house, sitting for its portrait. Then I replanted it in the garden. Maybe I should dig up all the plants and put them inside for the winter.