moss, Spanish and otherwise

It would be hard to overstate the effect Spanish moss has on a landscape.

It is dominant and haunting. I am a bookish westerner/northerner visiting the South, so I think of Flannery O'Connor and Boo Radley, The Prince of Tides and Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil when I see Spanish Moss dripping dry and eerie.

I took these pictures in the beautiful Carolina low country town of Beaufort.

Spanish Moss isn't even a moss. It's an epiphyte, rootless, sometimes called an air plant, that absorbs nutrients from air and water. Its tiny seeds are dispersed by wind and birds. It's been used as stuffing for mattresses and furniture.

Moss, like that in this picture I took in the Catskills, is also a simple plant. Classified as a bryophyte--a non-vascular plant, it has roots, but gets its nutrition through photosynthesis, absorbs water through its leaves, and germinates from spores.

Spanish moss isn't a parasite, but it can damage trees by blocking light and weighing down branches.

 Typically it's seen hanging from massive Oak trees.

Here it is tangling with berries

and Dogwood.

I know it would bother some people to have Spanish moss hovering over their beautiful old homes and trees, but I love how atmospheric it is.

hello from South Carolina

Thunderstorms, heavy rain, and a tornado watch have me inside now, with husband and in-laws, books, coffee, naps, and oranges, but this morning I sneaked out to Bluffton, where many of the Main Street (Calhoun Street, actually) cottages (and an old gas station) are galleries and stores.

I badly want this bookcase because 1) it's a bookcase 2) it's a perfect shabby blue, but mostly because the top of it says Bluffton Public Library! They said I could have it for $15, but how much would it cost me to ship it or take it on the plane?

At The Cottage I had a very non-Southern omelette with avocado, cilantro, and parmesan, served with the best corn bread I've ever had. I have more to tell you about Bluffton, but that's enough excitement for now.

Jen

mud season

It's that dismal time of year when I am reminded why I briefly considered moving the store to one of the villages where stores close for the winter. But lucky me, I am getting on a plane headed for Savannah Georgia tomorrow, to spend a long weekend with my in-laws. I hope to spend time in Savannah, Beaufort S.C., and Tybee Island--if you have any tips on things to see/places to eat in those towns, please let me know. I am taking along Night Swim, a coming of age novel written by my friend Jessica Keener. I've read some excerpts and a draft of the novel Jessica is currently working on--her writing is lyrical and nuanced, and I look forward to sinking into her book. I love Jessica's non-fiction too--the reflections on home that she occasionally posts on her blog are wonderful, and that I hope she will collect and publish them one day.

And I've made a new friend, after reading her book and contacting her. If you like historic fiction you should read The Wolf's Sun, by Karen Charbonneau, a compelling story with rich characters that is packed with historic details. (Did you know that in 17th century Brittany, peasants dropped a chicken down their chimney to clean it?) It's a big book (I read it on Kindle) --a great read to see you through the end of winter. Karen lives in the Idaho wilderness. See wonderful pictures on her blog including a recent entry when she had a mother and baby moose in her yard. 

This is a picture I took two years ago of a house in Bluffton, South Carolina. I will be back next week with pictures of Spanish moss, magnolias, and the low country.

Jen

flowers in the house

Sometimes when I have a small vase of flowers I move them from room to room with me. These ranunculuses (ranunculi?) spent some time on my desk today.

And on the table next to my favorite reading chair. They will go to the kitchen with me when I make dinner. Speaking of reading, I'm one of those people who reads more than one book at a time. Here's some of what's on my reading table right now.

Nocturnes, a collection of poignant stories by Kazuo Ishiguro, was recommended to me by Haricot, one of my favorite bloggers, who writes movingly of Japanese landscapes and tanka poetry, among other things.

I always have flowers or greens in this spot by the stairs. If you've ever lived in a two-story house you know you go up and down many times a day, so I get to see my flowers often.

I don't often buy irises, because they don't last long, but I love the way they look here. Elegant flowers and wild greens.

Here's something I've been thinking about: I love vases, and have a lot of them at home and in the store (above). But I think flowers often look best in the simplest vases, jars, and pitchers. Fancier, more decorative vases seem to be competing with flowers, and they almost always lose.

This Roseville vase is beautiful, but what could I put in it that wouldn't be fighting with it? Last year I often brought ferns, which grown in abundance on our property, into the store, and they look good in any vase. So is there a simple to fancy ratio between flower and vase that has to be proportionate? I am hoping that Jane, who is hosting the always enjoyable Flowers in the House today, has something to say on the matter.

Jen

last weekend, in the Catskills

Mostly a frenzy of painting and fussing with the store (see previous post). But also a Cajun Night dinner/dancing/fundraiser featuring jambalaya, King Cake and music by Captain Squeeze and the Zydeco Moshers, which got pretty crazy. Cabin fever, you know. (Though of course I went home early--I'm no fun.) On the way there we drove through an intense mini-blizzard where I swear it was snowing sideways. But the next morning I drank my coffee and looked at this...

which so inspired me I walked around trying to take artsy photographs,

such as a comparison of snow-laden branches

and icicles.

I'm going back this weekend to finish what I started. 

No more painting for now. The store will be open. Let's see if anyone notices the changes.

is it periwinkle, violet or lavender?

Apparently I had a bee in my bonnet when I got to the store Friday. It was the start of a holiday weekend and a week when many schools are closed for winter break a/k/a Ski Week, and thus a time when people would come to the Catskills to ski and shop. No store owner in their right mind would close their store at such a time. And then there's me. I know I wore you out with paint colors and store inspiration and crises of confidence and this and that, and my plan was to freshen up the store in the dead of March or the mud of April, not Ski Week. But I walked in the store Friday and thought, "I hate this place" and moved everything somewhere else and hung newsprint over the windows and went to the hardware store. What happened then?

I'm pretty sure the words periwinkle, lavender and violet were not mentioned when we discussed what color(s) I should paint the store. But that's what happened to one wall plus that little window wall.

I'll save details for another post,

but I am happy with the results.

And don't the girls look nice together?

violets (a clue)

Guess what color I painted (part of) the store this weekend? (more on that soon)



I just ordered this DVD--they've been showing it around the Catskills, because Rhinebeck, once the violet capital of the world, is nearby, but I haven't had a chance to see it. I am so excited about it--I love violets. See how easy it is to make me happy? A little info on the history of violets here.