Hello everyone; yes, once again it is I, Chess the purebred border collie, filling in for the guy I live with, and here to bring you the very latest and most cutting-edge news from our garden. You may remember me from such cutting-edge posts as “Bunnies On The Grass, Alas”, and “A Close Call”, among so many, many others.
Here I am in a rather morose pose. I wasn’t getting as many biscuits as I thought I deserved.
I don’t really have a huge amount of cutting-edge news for this evening, but the guy I live with said I should say something about the night-blooming flowers here, seeing as how we’ve been staying up later than we did during the winter. The guy I live with says he’s been having a hard time getting me out of bed in the morning, and I guess that’s true, since the Pottery Barn sheets are really soft, and I can sleep to the east, like they say to in A Pattern Language (a book practically everyone should have), and the fan blows in cool air, right up my nose, so things are about as perfect as they could be under the circumstances, and why would anyone want to get up when they’re so comfortable, so I let the alarm ring and ring, for almost an hour, before I’m really ready to get out of bed.
Well, so, anyway, since the guy I live with insists this is a gardening blog and not a blog about how a purebred border collie likes to sleep in every morning, I guess I’ll show these pictures, which were taken about 8 p.m. tonight. The flowers pictured only open at night. Not all of them are totally focused (especially the neohenricia), but that’s another one of those metaphor things.
Bergeranthus jamesii
Stomatium mustellinum
Neohenricia sibbettii
Oenothera caespitosa
Oh, and the wind came up and blew down a bunch of apple blossoms. It looks kind of like a Japanese print or something, doesn’t it? Or snow. You can also maybe see that the guy I live with is having a struggle getting the lawn the way he wants it.
me among the apple blossoms
That’s it for tonight. I had a pretty good day, except for the not-enough-biscuits part. Two really long walks, and a nice nap around noon. I played with my Lamb Chop toy, too.
Until next time, then.
the miserable gardener 
Beautiful flowers! Certainly worth staying up after dark to see, although I also understand how hard it is to resist the call of the soft sheets.
Thanks; well, the pace of life here has slowed down to the point where we almost do nothing at all, which is how we both like it. Except for my walks, breakfast, dinner, and lots of biscuits and cuddles, practically nothing happens.
Question: So how big have you seen O. caespitosa get? Because I have one that is reaching monster proportions.
They can get huge. In gardens anyway.
So, when you say “huge” do you mean 3 feet across huge? Because the way this thing is growing that is my fear.
Seen them that big, but only in garden situations where they have steady access to water. Under flagstones, rocks, etc. There’s a little tiny one, Oenothera caespitosa var. crinita, cute, that doesn’t get so big. Here, they don’t get big, but they’re growing in dust.
Apple petals glow.
They are much better than snow.
So there you must go.
Yes, indeed.
It’s dark now where you are at 8 pm? must be, because I’m betting those are solar lights I see in the beautiful Japanese print. I’m surprised to find *yellow* night-bloomers as I had supposed night-bloomers must be white like that Neohenricia sibbettii. And what in that photo is the sweet little flower in the upper left? Apparently night-blooming too. Our night-blooming cactus is flowering now, unseasonably, because it’s not yet July or August, The plant is near forty years old, so it may be developing eccentricities. Or else it’s reacting to last week’s hot spell.
I can think of no reason a late-sleeping pure-bred border collie should be rousted by the harsh sound of a ringing alarm. Of course, I must point out if you don’t get up you can’t go down to take a nap. Other than the getting up to an alarm, Chess, you lead an exceedingly pleasant life, you know – biscuits, long walks, brie, naps, an extraordinary garden in which to stroll, second-best Pottery Barn sheets and a fan to keep you cool. Plus, the definition of adorable is any photo showing you and your pal Lamb Chop. Work it, Chess, and maybe the alarm will be stifled.
Oh, the guy I live with says the little flower is a neohenricia flower, before it’s fully open. It’s really very pale yellow. All of the “squishies” (what he calls them) are from South Africa, so maybe they’re trying to attract South African moths. It’d be cool if some showed up. It doesn’t quite get dark at 8 p.m., but the solar lights come on. The one you see is a cheapo plastic one, though there are also snazzy copper ones from Smith & Hawken. Scary day today. Three thunderstorms passed over or by us (they rarely pass directly over us, because we’re so close to the foothills). It hailed twice. In June 1991 there was a hailstorm here which obliterated the garden (and totaled the truck parked in the driveway), and ever since then, the guy I live with has freaked out when thunderstorms approach, which he admits is probably irrational. He says he gets to be irrational because everyone else is about something or other. He gets very agitated when he’s away from the house and there’s a thunderstorm, because he thinks about little old me alone in the house, scared. People who don’t have dogs might not understand this. All of the purebred border collies who’ve lived here have been very frightened of thunder. I have a Thundershirt, but it might not fit any more, because of course it shrank. Oh, the alarm. That’s the pill alarm, on the cell phone. The alarm on the clock radio is almost always turned off. It’s raining here. Gentle rain, but with thunder and lightning.