My  ABC Wednesday   theme:  The Mama and Her Authentic Green Thumbs. . .and Fingers Those white blossoms may one day produce Asian pears for us. The tree had quite a lot of blossoms this year, but then we had a couple days of rain. The rain was wonderful for us, since we're in a drought, but not so much for the blossoms. So we shall see. Look in the background and you can see some clusters of buds of the avocado tree. If they all wake and do their thing, we're going to have a huge crop this year. What else is new in the Mama's garden? This past week, she planted long beans and some other kinds of beans, which I can't recall. She says that sometime soon she'll plant green beans. Yup. We like our fresh beans. Seeds that the mama dropped into the soil a few weeks ago have popped up. These are parda plants. I have no idea what the English word is for parda . Not even sure if I'm spelling the Ilocano word correctly. It's a kind of bean that look

My  ABC Wednesday   theme:  The Mama and Her Authentic Green Thumbs. . .and Fingers This crazy looking tree is the Miracle Tree. That's not its real name.  The Mama calls it the passion tree, but it's not. I looked it up and the tree doesn't resemble the passion tree from Australia.  Once-upon-a-time I knew the name of this tree.  Doesn't matter if I don't ever know it again. I like calling it the Miracle Tree. I may have told this story before, so if you heard it, that's okay, you can wander over to another post. About 25 or so years ago, the First Husband gave the Mama a packet of seeds that he got in the mail from a Native American tribe. He nor I had any idea what kind of plant the seeds were. The Mama, being the Mama,  planted them in the backyard to see what they may become. It was shortly after the First Husband died that I noticed the tree. "What kind of tree is that?" I asked. "I don't know," said the Mama. "Wh

My  ABC Wednesday   theme:  The Mama and Her Authentic Green Thumbs. . .and Fingers Last week I was transplanting iris under the lemon tree for the Mama, and I kept knocking my head on the same lemon branch. You'd think I would remember after the first collision. Or, the second time. Or, even the third time. . . . Once I harvest the lemon off this particular branch, it's getting pruned. I love the Mama's backyard. So does the Husband. The one problem we have is that when all the trees and vegetables have completely bursted forth with their leaves and fruit, we can't walk around the yard without knocking our heads on the low branches, bumping into bushes and vines, and stubbing our toes along the narrow pathways. It's not too bad for me since I'm short, but the Husband, uh-uh. There are a couple places he can walk around at full height and without him grumbling, "This place is too small!" It goes without saying, but I will anyway, that everyt

My  ABC Wednesday   theme:  The Mama and Her Authentic Green Thumbs. . .and Fingers It's Spring! Quite a lot of joyful things are going on in a happy organized higgledy-piggledy manner in the Mama's backyard. And, it's all the work of the Mama. Colorful flowers greet the Mama each morning. The Mama nods at the rosebuds that say hello to banana leaves as they unfurl around the roses. An abundant of tomato seedlings surprised the Mama, who is now transplanting them all over the yard. The persimmon and other fruit trees dance in their new dress of leaves, giving the Mama shade as she happily works beneath.  It's time for  ABC Wednesday , a meme began Mrs. Denise Nesbitt and headed   today by Roger Green  and his helpers.   Click  here  to read posts around today's letter J.

Ha! It only took me a month to purchase milkweed seeds and then another month to plant them. I'm on my way to helping save the monarch butterflies . The butterflies in our region have started their way back to Canada, but maybe the milkweed will be in bloom when they return in the fall. Rather than planting the milkweed seeds in the ground, I sowed the seeds into egg shells and little pots. Yup, I actually saved eggshells the last time I made scrambled eggs. Remembering the shells this morning was my incentive to plant the seeds today.  It's a good thing the Mama was busy in another part of the yard. I can imagine her shuddering at my haphazard way of sprinkling the seeds into the soil rather than the orderly fashion that she would do. I did talk to the seeds and wished them well, as the Mama does. When the seedlings get big enough, I'll either transplant them to the ground or bigger pots. Maybe by then I can get the Mama to let me have some space in the front yard.

My ABC Wednesday theme: The Mama and Her Authentic Green Thumbs . . .and Fingers Long ago, the Only and Older Bionic Brother and I talked about the Mama's future and what if she were to move into an apartment. It was a very short discussion. "She'd go crazy," the Only and Older Bionic Brother said. The Mama may be content staying home, but she needs and wants space to roam in the outdoors.  Her gardens are the perfect place and size for keeping her hands happy year-round. I'm participating in ABC Wednesday , a meme began Mrs. Denise Nesbitt and administered today by Roger Green at Ramblin' with Roger . Today is the letter H . Click here to read other H posts.

My ABC Wednesday theme: The Mama and Her Authentic Green Thumbs . . .and Fingers And just like that the Mama's trees in the backyard are bursting with life. Gee, when did the leaves start sprouting on the miracle tree? Golly, the young apricot tree has a lot of buds this year.  Gosh, the banana leaves have begun unfurling.   I'm participating in ABC Wednesday , a meme began Mrs. Denise Nesbitt and administered today by Roger Green at Ramblin' with Roger . Today is the letter G . Click here to read other G posts.

When the Mama bought her lemon tree, she lucked out big time. Not only does it bear Meyer lemons, but it also gives forth citrons. Someone had grafted a couple of citron branches to the lemon tree, unbeknownst to her and possibly the nursery from which she bought the tree.  Some of the citron are Buddah's hands. They're the ones that are oddly shaped, generally looking like fingers. Buddah's hands can get truly creepy looking. Today I'm hooking up with Monday Mellow Yellows , hosted by Gemma Wiseman. Click here to see other yellow-colored interpretations of the world.

My ABC Wednesday theme: The Mama and Her Authentic Green Thumbs . . .and Fingers In the late 1990s, when the Mama was in her mid 70s, her doctor prescribed her one and only medication -- a pill for low thyroid. The doctor started her with .05 mg, a very low dosage. But, in the Mama, woooo-weee! It made her run the marathon, jump over the moon, and lift several 100-pound bags of soil every day. Essentially, taking the medicine made her tired. And, of course, after awhile she stopped taking it. A few months went by before I discovered she was not taking her medication. While visiting her one weekend, I noticed she was looking very tired so I checked her bottle. She was very good at not refilling prescriptions.  The bottle was the one I had ordered months ago and it was still full. The Mama admitted that she stopped taking it. Sigh.  "Why?" I asked. She shrugged. Her usual answer to questions to which she was not ever going to respond. "That's why you

My ABC Wednesday theme: The Mama and Her Authentic Green Thumbs . . .and Fingers The Mama loves her daisies, but she complains that they're a pain to deadhead. She does it anyway so that they continue to bloom. And, bloom, they do throughout the year. I've taken to snapping off old and spent daisies off the plants in the front yard while Molly the Cat wanders about. When I started, it was to be a good assistant to the Mama. Now, I do it more for me. It helps me find zen. One of these days, I'd like to get her some regular white daisies. Check out what colors and types she has now. Today is the letter D at ABC Wednesday, a fun weekly blog hop created by Denise Nesbitt 16 rounds ago. Currently it is being administered by Roger Green at Ramblin' with Roger , with the help of his ABC Wednesday friends.  Please click here to read other ABC posts.

My ABC Wednesday theme: The Mama and Her Authentic Green Thumbs . . .and Fingers Clip. Clip. Clip.  That's what the Mama has been doing among her geraniums lately. Pruning off old and decaying branches so that new growth will take place by spring. Just doing her magic among the geraniums, both in the front and back yards.  Always the recycler, the Mama doesn't throw out all of the pruned branches. No, sir-eeee, Bob. She snips off the geranium stems to plant in bare spots in the yard, front and back. They take root, then several weeks later. . .Voila! Flowers! Which stems have a chance of rooting, you may ask? Because, I surely do. Shrugging is her answer. So, I watch her choose the stems to plant. Her selection is based partly from her many years of gardening and horticulture experience. Part is from a feeling, an instinct. And, part is from the geraniums telling her.  At least, that's what I like to think. The Mama is humble. She is surprised as everyo

My ABC Wednesday theme: The Mama and Her Authentic Green Thumbs . . .and Fingers The Mama saves the empty plastic bags in which potting mix, garden soil, and wild bird seed come. I'm not talking about small plastic bags. They are bags that once held 1.5 or 2 cubic feet of dirt or 40 pounds of bird seed.  Once upon a time, I threw the bags away only to learn that the Mama fished the bags out of the garbage can and hid them in the garden shed. "I can use them for something," she said,  when I found the bags. Yup. The tiny, 90+, always-resourceful lady did find a use for the bags for her garden work. When she's in cleaning mode, which is pretty much every day, she carries a bag in which to throw leaves, twigs, weeds, and other green waste. When the bag gets too heavy, she leaves it for me to pick up and empty into the green waste recycling can.  Some weeks, the green recycling can gets filled within two days because we've been pruning trees or pulling out v

Sawing. Clipping. Raking. Sweeping. Pushing dried limbs, branches, vines, leaves, and seed pods into plastic bags. That's how I spent most of my afternoon. It wasn't what I had planned. When the Husband and I left this morning to do the errands, the Mama was reading the newspaper in the living room. Ninety minutes later, I looked out the back door to see a high limb on the miracle tree precariously hanging above the Mama, who sat beside the tall ladder, stripping dried leaves from skinny branches into her bucket. I was furious. One, the Mama had been up the ladder. And, two, I had asked her the other day, after cutting back her banana trees, if she'd like me to prune the rest of the miracle tree. "No," she said. "The green (recycle) can is already full." Good, I thought, I'd prune the tree next Thursday.  Ha! "You know we don't like you on the ladder," I growled, throwing my purse on the ground, and hurriedly climbing the ladde

Lately, I've been helping the Mama pick up the leaves in the backyard. Even when it's about to rain or when the wind is being blustery. Why? Because the Mama is out there. And, she'll stay out there until she is a) satisfied that she has picked up as many leaves as she could before more fall from the trees,  or b) tired and has begun ranting about the next door neighbor's dirty tree that sheds lots and lots of clusters of red berries and skinny hard leaves, which are quite difficult to pick up. After years of calling out the back window, "Come in, Mama, it's too cold!" Or,  "It's windy! Just wait until the wind stops." Or, "It's raining!" I now step outside, followed happily by Molly the Cat who has been cooped inside because the Mama decided it's too cold, windy, and/or rainy for her to be outdoors.   I usually head to the other side of the yard  with my favorite rake. The sooner the leaves are picked up, the sooner t

The first, okay, maybe it was the fourth, thing I did this morning before breakfast was write that To Do list. I did finish the mystery I've been reading at breakfast. I diligently stuck with the story although I didn't care for the protagonist who was too much of an insecure whiner. But once I learned who the suspect was, I skimmed through the final scenes. I closed the book and purposely went to complete something else. For about the next two hours, I topped off the Mama's outdoor potted plants with potting soil. It was something I had been thinking about doing for the last two summers. The other week, while the Mama was watering her plants, she mentioned that they needed more soil. "Uh-huh," I said, glancing at them and thinking I need to do that before she got to it. Fortunately, for me, a few days ago, the Husband and I bought three huge bags of potting soil. The Mama requested one, but I bought two extra bags. Not because I was going to add soil to

The Mama, as some of you dear readers know, is in her nineties. The tiny, fragile, slow-stepping Mama is doing well, thank you very much for asking. She's as fit and magnificent as the flowers and vegetables that she grows. The only medication she takes is for her thyroid. I can only hope that I haven't screwed up the genes she gave me too awful much. This morning, I found a poem that I wrote about the Mama two years ago when she was rushed to the hospital. The Mama is amazing. The Sleeping Mama Slipped into her ER room. She was fast asleep, Hooked up to the IV, heart monitor, and oxygen. In one moment, she could not move no matter how hard she tried. And, she tried, and kept trying, to stand up. "Walking pneumonia," the doctor said. "Dehydration." What did she say?  "This is going to cost me a lot." © 2014 Su-sieee! Mac I'm participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge this month. To check out other participants, c