And Then the Garden . . . .

Whenever we go away I get inspired by the gardens, landscapes, and various other things, to the point where I can hardly wait to get home to try out some of those new ideas. Among my favorite places are botanical gardens of any kind - or just walking around neighborhoods in other places to see what people are doing with their yards. On our first full day in Carlsbad, Joe and I, along with Gregg and the kids, visited the San Diego Botanical Garden, and what a delight it was!

Dante really didn't want to leave his electronic devices in the car at first, but he quickly got into the spirit of the place. Among the first things we saw were these crazy trees - it was mid-afternoon and they looked like they'd begun the cocktail hour early:

I knew the corks in our wine bottles came from trees but had never seen one; the trunk on this one was at least 3 feet wide:

We found a lovely gazebo

orchids growing wild,

along with many different bromeliads

and a rainforest complete with waterfall:

In another area we found this shed covered with vines and strange blossoms as big as dinner plates.

The white thing is like a balloon containing nectar that insects feed on; one of the gardeners said she thought it was a variety of Dutchman's pipe, though I think those are usually smaller. When that chamber bursts open it's filled with a sooty substance that you can see on the ground around the garbage can (I really should have moved that before I took the picture!).

Of course there were other strange and wonderful flowers as well, like these:

and we learned where bananas come from,

and were reminded of the importance of balance in nature

when we got to the bamboo grove, where we saw this gigantic bamboo sculpture

and various varieties of that amazing plant, including gorgeous painted bamboo:

Geneva and Dante located a lily pond

and Geneva's sharp eyes spotted its tiny, jewel-like residents

Then we moved on a Mexican-themed area, complete with lovely dancers and a mariachi band, all life-sized and dressed in succulents, a delightful variation on the topiaries we see in so many other places.

and further along the path we were reminded again of the importance of nature in our lives:

At last we came to the children's garden, full of whimsical sculptures and a variety of activity areas:

including a wonderful and elaborate treehouse with several entrances and exits at different levels.

These bromeliads are growing on tree limbs high above the ground. In the lower left corner of the this photo you can see a xylophone made of flat stones, each of which has its own distinct rich and complex musical tone, so you can actually play "real" music on it. 

(Yes, I did climb up to the top, and so did Joe.)

That area below contained several other music makers, and nearby Dante beat everyone at tic-tac-toe played on a permanent board laid out in the sand, about four feet square, with X's and O's a foot wide and made of wood. But that's where my camera ran out of energy, just after I caught Dante relaxing in the giant's chair. We left shortly after that.

Surprisingly, in many less planned and developed areas, we found cacti and cholla just like the ones here at home. And of course, I came back excited to try out some new gardening ideas based on what we saw there. It's nice to go away, but it's also nice to come home, especially when there's some vacation time left in which to recover from the vacation!

Back on the Mission Trail

Joe and I are back in California this week, and enjoying ourselves in spite of the sad reason for our trip: my Aunt Vera's memorial, which was held on Saturday at the Pacific Club in Newport Beach, a truly lovely place in which to remember a truly lovely woman. She enjoyed this blog, and I'd often find myself choosing topics and pictures because I thought she would like them. I still find myself thinking, "Oh, I'll have to tell Vera about that."
     Now we're in Carlsbad, where Gregg and family have rented a place for a couple of weeks and where we now have a few days to reconnect with the grandkids (and their parents); their rental is just 2 blocks from the beach, where we enjoyed this gray sunset last night.

That blob of hot coral on the horizon looked rounder, more the sun that it is, in real life. Dante called it a ghost ship - I like that.
     But before that we stopped on our way to Carlsbad to visit the Mission San Luis Rey outside Oceanside, a place neither Joe nor I had ever been to before.

The mission is named for Saint Louis IX, the medieval French king who became a saint because of his piety and devotion, a devotion that included going on crusade twice (he didn't make it back the second time). I think he looks quite regal in this large figure above the entrance to the historic church (I specify "historic" because there's also a new church on the grounds, not shown in these pictures but just to the east, housing the current active parish, along with a nice social hall and a Montessori school).

When you enter the historic church, the original baptistry is on the left; this is the original stone baptismal font. This picture also offers a good first look at the remarkable restoration that's been done here.

This is the view from the front entrance down the nave to the main altar. I love the decorated timbers across the flat ceiling; the entire church has been beautifully restored and maintained, right down to the shine on the bricks of the floor and the wood of the pews.

Off the nave to the right is the Lady Chapel, with prie-dieux and racks for candles on both sides as well as in front of the altar. You must buy a specific type of candle sold at the gift shop there, not only to raise money for  church maintenance but because other kinds might cause a build-up of soot. It's the same back home in Tucson, where prior to restoration some of the walls at Mission San Xavier del Bac were virtually black from centuries of devotion.

Here's a closer view of the main altar, with good Saint Louis at the top and center, looking handsome and heroic in a golden breastplate.

As an earlier picture shows, the ceiling over the nave is flat, but there is a high dome over the crossing before the altar; this photograph does not do it justice. 

Outside and to the right of the historic mission church is the cemetery, which contains historic graves but is also in use today. This beautiful, life-sized bronze statue reaches out toward a fountain. I'm not sure who she's meant to represent since there was no identifying plate, but her welcoming gesture and her calm, peaceful face seem to invite the visitor to rest for a bit on the nearby bench, to enjoy the shade of the trees and the sound of falling water.

Here's Joe passing through the archway that separates the older part of the cemetery from what seems to be a more recent addition. In looking at one of the pamphlets from the visitor center we discovered that one of the former priests from Mission San Xavier outside Tucson is now head of the cemetery at Mission San Luis Rey. When we found out he'd left - this was probably 15 years ago - my mother, a retired nurse, observed that she didn't think he'd been looking well. She'll be happy to see that he looks quite well and happy in the photo in the pamphlet. Joe and I were delighted because we liked Father Michael and his sort of Zen-Catholic homilies, very much.

This is one of the most interesting places on the grounds, downhill from the rest of the buildings; the sign above explains it much better than I could. The steps leading up from the lavanderia to the arch are a reconstruction, but as with so much of the mission complex, the feeling of being in a place where real people lived their very real, not always easy, day-to-day lives remains. That's especially true here, where we were quite literally the only visitors!

The people who climbed those steps, tended those long-ago orchards, prayed in the mission church when it was new, were not really any different from us today. Especially in this area, away from the parking lot and gift shop and tourists, it was almost possible to feel them still there.

A Room of Her Own

Well, my own, actually, and a new study, to be precise. We've been in this house 13 years and my study was one of only two rooms that hadn't been repainted (the other is Joe's bathroom, and it's not next on his list).  It was a mint green that I didn't mind at first but had grown to dislike very much, and then I had an inspiration for an entirely different look.

My mother joined the U.S. Army near the end of World War II, straight out of nurses' training. She was sent first to the Philippines, where she was dancing at the officers' club on Leyte when they got the news about the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Soon after that she was posted to Yokohama, where she worked in what had been the Swedish consulate before being transformed into an army hospital.
    This lavender and gold (it looks more lavender in real life) kimono is a souvenir of her time in Japan - I grew up hearing stories of her time there, and her adventures with the handsome officers she dated, one of whom bought her this gorgeous lavender and gold kimono, which might be considered an antique now. At any rate, it's certainly vintage.
    When she got home, she gave it to my grandmother, who was disappointed that it didn't have an obi and folded it away into a cedar chest. Grandma died and Mom recovered the kimono but didn't quite know what to do with it, so she too put it away, until about a year ago she gave it to me. My study faces north and the wall the kimono hangs on doesn't get direct light; it seemed only right that it should finally come out of hiding and be appreciated.

I want to keep things very simple. There's just the one big window, and Joe found a roll-up rice paper shade for it. We already had the light wood table I'm using for a desk, a 2-drawer file cabinet, and this rather battered but serviceable coffee table. Since I've just given up my day job, I brought home my two small bookcases (there's a corner of one in the photo of the kimono) from the office, as well as these batik prayer flags that hung across the wall behind my desk there.

What I want to achieve is a feeling of simplicity, peace, and serenity, and not to clutter it up with too much stuff, as is so often my wont. So far so good.

Birds of Summer Part Deux

We're having a great time watching the birds this summer. The orange halves (see http://morning-glory-garden.blogspot.com/search/label/birds) have been a great success.

They can get very acrobatic, like this young goldfinch.

That's orange pulp on the window; they're also very messy eaters.

We have orioles again this summer and I've spotted at least one youngster a few times but haven't got any new pictures yet. Also a black-headed grosbeak and a bronzed cowbird. In the light that first day the cowbird looked completely glossy black, with bright red eyes, like some kind of avian demon. I hope I can get a picture soon; he was at the feeder again this morning.

        Our backyard habitat changed rather dramatically a couple of weeks ago during the first big monsoon of the season. The rain is often preceded by heavy winds, and this time it uprooted our smaller mesquite tree, a favorite spot for the birds as it's near the tube feeder and birdbaths and a favorite of ours as it was just off the patio and visible from the kitchen window (the one that's currently splattered with orange pulp).

It looks like it also took out that nice patch of rosemary by the roots, but I think we may be able to save it. We also thought, or at least hoped that we might be able to save the tree, that if we took off all the branches and left just the trunk, maybe 5 feet tall, that it might resprout. We've seen that happen with other mesquites, and since there were still some roots in the ground, and since for two weeks the leaves stayed as green and healthy as before, it didn't seem impossible. But once Joe got the limbs off and we tried propping it up we realized it wouldn't work, so now it's firewood. The same thing happened to the same tree about 10 years ago, when it was much smaller, and we were able to rescue it, but not this time.
     I was rather heartbroken about losing it, but I think it will be all right. It was a beautiful tree but the slope looks nice without it too, and some of the plants may like having more sun. There are tall oleanders all along the back fence and the neighbor's trees are right up against it on the other side, so the birds still have plenty of places to perch, including the fence itself. Meanwhile, other plants are doing very nicely, like this little cactus.

The non-cactus leaves at the bottom and in the top right corner are volunteer wild poinsettias. I bought one a few years ago at a plant sale and now they just pop up all over. We like them very much even though sometimes we have to pull them out.

Another Ottoman

That's sort of a pun, I guess, as I think this ottoman, with its rich colors and texture, would have been quite at home in a seraglio of the original Ottoman Empire. Angelo seems to think so too, and he's definitely a creature who likes his creature comforts.

I began at the top, following the granny circle pattern so well explained by Raymond's mum at http://crochethealingandraymond.wordpress.com/2010/11/11/revisiting-the-granny-mandala/. When the circle was big enough (and by big enough I mean about 1 round short of covering the top of the ottoman, since I wanted it to have to stretch just a bit for a snug, not baggy fit). I just changed colors as the mood took me, but when the top was big enough I then did 2 rounds of single crochet, 1 in gold, 1 in ivory. There's no increasing after the last shell round of the top.
     Your colors will vary, of course. The colors in the pictures look different because I took the one below in natural light at sundown and the one above with a flash to make sure Angelo didn't just look like a flat shadow. The true colors of the yarn are somewhere in between, but closer to those below.

My pattern for the sides was to do 3 rounds of double crochet in 1 color, then 1 round of single crochet in either gold or ivory, then 3 rounds of double crochet in another solid color, then 1 round of single crochet, etc., till it's long enough to reach the floor. I think I'll probably add 2 more rounds of gold single crochet, just for a nicer, firmer finished edge. But overall I'm quite happy with the way it turned out. The fabric cover on this ottoman wasn't nearly as disreputable as on the cube in my previous post, but once I'd made that one so much more elaborate, this one looked very sad, and now it doesn't.