Inspired by an episode of "Jamie's Italy," I whipped up his sausage risotto. Turned out quite well, if I do say so myself. I was surprised at how well the Nebbiolo went with the dish. Together with my standard focaccia from a King Arthur Flour recipe and a small side salad, it was a tasty meal.
Tonight's post is being written while a delightful heavy rain is falling. Tropical systems off the west coast of Mexico have been feeding late-season monsoon moisture up into the state. We need the water.
Backing up 12 hours, Ric & Kent came over and we went down to the Railyards to view the Santa Fe 2926 that was under steam today.
She's a great hulking beast with 80" drive wheels. Rumored to hit speeds of up to 113 mph, we're looking forward to the day when this locomotive will make passenger runs up to Las Vegas, NM for overnight stays in that town's historic hotels.
Earlier on Saturday morning, there was the follow-up to yesterday's plant labeling. I updated my spreadsheet and created a map of label locations of the 21 placements. Each red dot represents a label in the ground.
All in all, a productive day avoiding political news.
Last week the owner of Lark Labels (another Karl) met up with Curator of Plants, Maria, to deliver the latest box of 232 labels in the new style. These are single stakes with scientific name, a common name, a QR code, and the image of a chickadee on a branch.
So the day before yesterday I moved the heavy box with all the labels wrapped in gangs of 5 from the Education Building out to the Herbarium. Jeffery, the HDRG gardener, helped me find cabinet space. Curiously, the labels were packaged alphabetically by common name.
Then yesterday I gathered up my kit and began the task of getting labels in the ground. Because of the way they were packaged, it was necessary to open up each packet of 5 to see what was in each group. Then I would sort them into groups based on known location: desert areas, front gardens, Cottonwood Gallery, etc. A good fraction of them went into a pile with "no immediately known location."
As I worked up batches of 5 or so, I'd head out into the garden to track down the precise locations. To my pleasant surprise, the single stakes were much easier to get in the ground than the previous two-pronged "staples." Because the new label format is currently so sparse in the Garden, I made an effort to choose locations that were in high traffic areas. Maria and Matt (Northside Assistant Director) will have to come up with some general signage to indicate what the new QR codes represent.
There were some frustrating surprises. What I thought was a deodar cedar near the Rosalee Doolittle area, probably is a Cedrus atlantica. I'll have to ask about that one. Also, I was unable to locate a scarlet claret cup, Echinocereus coccinius. Everything I found was an E. triglochidianus. Also, by relying on Backyard Refuge names, we've ended up with some taxonomic oddities. Few will notice except the occasional professional passing through.
At any rate, I was able to get 20 labels in the ground. At each location, I took a photo of the label and its corresponding plant, perhaps a closeup of bark and leaves, and a general location shot. I'll spend some time this weekend extracting the EXIF location data from the images and updating my label inventory spreadsheet.
It was definitely a good day to get outside and avoid the news. Tariffs, lawsuits, federal retribution, Jimmy Kimmel aftershocks, and hurricanes in the Atlantic have all combined to make the larger world a scarier place.
What a curious name for the new garden at the BioPark, "Lebanon and Beyond." I keep wanting it to rhyme, "Lebanond and Beyond." All in all, it's a young garden with its new plantings all spaced apart as per the instructions.
Right now all the hardscape features seem too large and out of scale: 3 giant arches to nowhere, a towering chimney, and a hulking dark brown arbor. With only young plants, it looks ridiculously out of proportion. I hope I'm around in 15 or 20 years to see the cedars taking form.
I took the docent training yesterday and it was an hour of minimally useful lecture and 90 minutes in the gardens themselves. Cesar's talk about the Lebanese Garden proper was informative and helpful.
Of interest for the herbarium, I see that the queen of the night is about to bloom, but someone or something is snatching the lotus blossoms before they can mature to fruit.
Of interest for my plant labeling gig, the Lark labels have arrived. It's 232 days until National Public Garden Day and I've got a list of 232 plant labels to get in the ground. I'll be a busy boy until first frost.
As my friend Ric would often say, "It's always something." And today proved the rule; the grinder pump has gone out. First came the electrician because the breaker was not resetting. Now I'm waiting for the honey wagon to clean out the pump itself, which is completely full. On top of all that, it's raining, not that we don't need the rain, but it sure doesn't make working on a plumbing problem any easier.
On the national front, the Kirk shooter is now in custody. Turns out he is the eldest son of staunch Trump supporters. Cryptic notes inscribed on the ammunition that he used points to a person with deep connections to some shadowy parts of the Interwebs. Hide and watch while we learn what motivated his attack.
Beyond all the above, I've got buy-in from Colin, the Heritage Farm manager, to take a shot at a BioPark conservation proposal. It would be a local incubator project dealing with biodiversity, regenerative farming, and soil/water conservation. If it weren't for tonight's plumbing problem, I'd be working on the proposal this weekend. We'll see if I get a chance tomorrow or Sunday.
As for a cover photo, I'm turning to the plants we found at Osuna Nursery this afternoon. The idea is to get some late season color as well as to replace two sickly cascading Euonymus. There will be some significant planting and potting in the week ahead.
Today a likely lone-wolf assassin shot and killed an outspoken MAGA activist and political commentator in Salt Lake. Three weeks ago the head of the FBI office there was let go. The FBI has been well purged by DOGE and a large percentage of their remaining agents are now working on immigration. Is there any counterterrorism/domestic anti-terrorism capability left in the US government?
Before all this hit the news, I was down at the BioPark listening to the Ghattis's talk about Lebanese history in NM and their thoughts about the new Lebanese Garden. More training to come, but here's a glimpse of the plantings, still under construction. Ribbon-cutting is Oct. 2nd.
And in one more dispiriting note, Fluffy the Feral Cat has gone missing. Last Friday she wasn't interested in her food and she hasn't been seen by us, our neighbors, or our wildlife cams in 5 days. :-(
Just to finish on an "up" bit, at least the moss on the Ginkgo and the limber pine is doing well. I'll be able to harvest it for the next Mothers Day Show.
Paul Krugman published an interview with Michael Mann this morning. It contained the following words of wisdom:
“What do we need to do to turn back this assault on science and reason and democracy and everything that we might hold dear?” There are lots of specific things that we can do right now that we should be doing, but more generally, “what's the big thing we can do?” The big thing is reclaiming our politics, right? That means turning out and voting, voting for climate-forward, science-forward politicians. It means using our voice, in every way possible, to combat against this parallel universe that the Right has created in the podcast world. We talk about social media, and the weaponization of Twitter by Elon Musk.
Last Wednesday was a yard-work Wednesday with Baldo. The #1 project was the elm trees growing in the no-man's land between the Candelaria Village wall and the Matthew Meadow wall. This 15" wide space is no doubt a safe haven for wildlife and gives Fluffy Cat a shady place from which to watch our backyard, but it's also a catchment for elm seeds.
The feral trees that grow there are now 4" in diameter and can grow 15 feet in a season. It's nearly the equinox and our sand cherries, not to mention the black pine, are being shaded.
So armed with loppers, saws, cordage, and ladders, Baldo and I ascended the raised bed and wall to do battle. The result: a huge pile of green wood and leaves that filled his truck to overflowing.
