My world was rattled last week.
we had 15 earthquakes of 2.5 or more magnitude in less than 24 hours. I felt almost all of them.
Being a native Californian, the jolts and the rock and roll are not new to this girl. I am, however, starting to wonder what is going on?
Then there is this, and this, and this.
The moonflower seeds that I started earlier this month...remember? Well, of the 10 seeds I started, only 2 broke soil. But the odd thing is that although the first set of leaves showed green, they just stopped growing. They never opened. They turned brown and died.
I am not a quitter! I started more seeds. This time I did not "nick". Daughter April suggested that nicking might remove "something important" needed for the success of the plant. The theory sounds plausible. (Still, the reality is that we have nicked moonflower seeds for years with fruition.)
I have started a new set of moonflower seeds the way a young child in school starts lima bean seeds.
They are in a cup with blotter paper and so far, so good. They have grown healthy looking tap roots, and are getting lateral roots, and have opening leaves. A couple days ago, I planted one in soil to see what will happen. Fingers crossed.
I told you about the earwig traps. They are working better than expected.
But there's the weird thing.
I have continued to empty the traps in the chicken yard. Both hens had been gobbling up the scurrying bugs until a week ago. Suddenly, Amelia, has become a vegetarian. She is not in the least bit interested in the earwigs.
While Nellie continues to peck up the extra protein, Amelia is now content with strawberry tops and whole grain bread. Did she read an article in the newspaper about the cruelty of earwig hunting or the benefits of a vegetarian diet?
And then there's my mum's roses.
My mom died 8 yeas ago, and her roses have been pretty much neglected ever since.
Her once lush garden has been in steady decline. The plants did receive water for many years, but my father no longer wants to pay for water for the garden.
The lawn is brown, the gazanias are barely hanging on around the perimeter of the parkway, and once abundant ferns and cascading baby tears have withered, crisped, flaked and blown away.
Yet this spring, my mom's roses are more beautiful than since she tended them with her own hand. They are large, perfect, and velvety.
I was at my dad's today and I pilfered some of my mom's roses.
How wonderful to it is to have these roses in my house. It is as though part of my mom is with me. What a calming presence when other things are
thrown off balance.
thrown off balance.
t.t.f.n. ~ Carol