Cactus Update

Happy summer, everybody!

I came today to post a silly story I'd written, but my comment moderator was FULL of cactus questions! FULL, I say! 

I find this excellent for two reasons:

1. People are still reading my old posts
2. I just bought new cacti!

See my coral cactus? It's the large one in the pot on the right.

The others are some little friends I bought for it to hang out with.

My paternal grandmother always had a window full of cactus, and I remember spending a lot of time trying to figure out which ones I could safely poke. :) I loved how she had so many different kinds, and Lowe's had little bitty cacti on sale for pretty cheap, sooo.... 

Cactus Day!  Huzzah!

Let me introduce you:

1. You all remember the coral cactus, right?

Well, it's grown quite a bit, and I moved it out of the polka dot pot and in with some little bitty flowering cacti.

2. Pink Crown cacti are the whiter appearing two around the coral's base.

 They're actually a dark green, but there are so many bristles that you can barely see it. They put out very pretty little pink flowers all over the top of the cactus bulb. If you look very closely, you can see that there are two types of bristles: the straight white ones and slightly curved reddish ones. The curved ones are just like velcro. They stick to everything, even skin, at the slightest touch. (Guess how I know.)

3. The next little guy is a Rebutia Miniscula. It buds out from the base as seen below.

 BUT -- It also flowers, and also in a dark pink. So pretty!

4. This next one might be my new favorite. It's nicknamed the Devil's Tongue barrel cactus.

Lookit those spines!  You don't want to mess with this guy. It was quite challenging to get this one out of his store pot and into the coral's old pot.

 Take a close look at the spines: they're ridged, curved, and very hard. You can actually drag your finger down one and hear the spines - that's how tough they are.

 That brings us to the last pot.

On a side note: I was very fortunate to find these shallow pots for the cacti. I didn't want them in deep pots or plastic pots, and I was just about to give up on getting more cacti when I found these shallow ones.

 There are four different cacti in the pot. I'll keep them here for as long as they're healthy, butI'm not sure how long they can stay together. And that's because....

5. The Pilosocereus Gounellii shown below grows to a mature size of TEN FEET. 

I couldn't say no to it, though. It was too awesome.

 6. This is the appropriately named Christmas Tree cactus. I luv Christmas!

7. This fluffy guy is a golden ball cactus.

It's the other one in the running for new favorite. The description reads "harmless bristles" (It lies - I'm still picking them out of my hands). The golden ball cactus is definitely golden, but it's not a barrel cactus, exactly. If you look at the base, you'll see that it looks a bit squished. The golden ball cacti are more like squished pillars than balls. As this one grows, the ripples at the bottom will become more pronounced.

 8. Finally, the last cactus!  This is a Clothed Opuntia.

It really IS harmless to the touch, unless you grab on to it very firmly. The white fuzz is very soft, almost felt-like. It is blooming right now - the shiny green "spikes" are the blossoms. There's two pictures of it here, so you can see its interesting growth patterns.

I'll always be grateful that Grandma got me interested in cacti when I was a kid. I just wish it hadn't taken me so long to get some of my own. I hope you like the cactus as much as I do, and for those of you who are still reading - Thanks for hanging out and being so patient with me!

I hope to write more often for you now that summer's here again.

Jogvan Bjorn in Washington DC (aka "We <3 Pictures!")

I'm sorry it took so long to get this up! It's been nearly a week since Jogvan (pronounced yek-vun) was here, but I've been having some technical difficulties. So, without further ado...

Here is our trip to show Jogvan (and Vienna) around DC.
(pssst! Want to know more about Jogvan? Check out his travels on Shinta's blog)

We started our trip by driving to the nearest Metro station to catch the train into the city.

Jogvan was very excited to ride the Metro for the first time. We managed to get a car that was fairly empty at first...

...then we looked out the window for a while and watched the cities roll by...

...Jogvan caught his first glimpse of the Capitol as we were going past Ronald Reagan International Airport...

...but soon, the rocking of the train made him drowsy, and Jogvan settled down in my camera bag to catch a quick nap.

We arrived in DC, and the first thing Jogvan saw was the Washington monument peeking out from behind the Department of Agriculture buildings, so we hurried off to the National Mall for a better look.

Jogvan thought it was beautiful in the afternoon sunshine.

He also really liked the red-roofed, collumned buildings that were nearby.

Silly Jogvan! You can't climb the monuments!

As we walked around, Jogvan settled back into his favorite spot - the camera bag - so that he could see everything. He wanted to see the Capitol again, so we started the long walk down the Mall in that direction.

We stopped at a souvenier shop and let Jogvan choose something to remember his trip. He picked up this little brown bear. It's tummy says, "I love Washington, DC".

We also stopped to get a photo of Jogvan with my favorite Smithsonian building. It looks like a castle, doesn't it? It's a great museum.

Jogvan took a break by this lamp post. (I love it when the metals turn green! It looks so neat!)

We were finally close enough to get a good shot of Jogvan and the Capitol: he was so excited!

We turned off of the Mall next, and headed over towards the Smithsonian buildings. We found the beautiful Mary Livingston Ripley garden with a fountain, and Jogvan begged to go in, so we wandered the garden paths for a while.

Jimmy was ready for a break, too.

Jogvan and I found some pretty flowers.

Soon, it was time to head home, so we went to the Smithsonian Metro station. It's one of the underground stations, and Jogvan really liked the tiled ceilings.

Here come the trains! Time to go back home.

We had so much fun with Jogvan, and we can't wait for him to meet Vienna and give her all of our love.

Jogvan has arrived!

Have you ever heard of Flat Stanley, the little guy who school kids send around the world on wild adventures? Well, meet Jogvan (pronounced yek-vun) Bjorn: he's on an adventure of his own.

Jogvan stopped in with us here in Virginia during his travels, and we are so excited to have him visit! Here's his traveling box from Switzerland.


When we opened it, Annie said, "Look! You got Switzerland's golden ticket!" And you know what? She's right. It is like winning a prize. It's very exciting to have this little house guest.


He was so excited to get out of the box that he started dancing.


Then he made friends with our Rottie, Bill.


Jogvan got to be a guest "speaker" at our church today, too. He went up on stage and soaked up lots of love and prayers to take back to his little Vienna!

Pastors Rich and Jay with Jogvan in first service

Pastors Rich and Jay with Jogvan in second service

I'm so excited that all my friends got to meet Jogvan and pray for Vienna today!

We have one more afternoon together, and then he's off to Pennsylvania, and my friend Erin.

My Coral Cactus

Jimmy and the coral

My paternal grandmother loves cacti. She's very ill now; she has Alzheimer's. She has forgotten my generation - or rather - she thinks we're all very small.

The last time I spent a few days with her, she told me some great stories about my "Uncle George". Then she'd shake her head and say, "No, he's your grandpa, isn't he?" We had a good time, but I think what bothered me the most - more than her forgetfulness, which was expected - was that her cacti were disappearing. There weren't nearly as many as before. That made me sad. Those cacti were a big part of who she was to me when I was little.

Grandpa built his ships, and Grandma had all kinds of cacti. She had a cactus with flowers, one that was tall, one that was fat, a soft one, a super spiky one... all kinds, all shapes. I've loved them ever since. She said she liked them because they were "hard to kill". :)

Boy was she right! I have a coral cactus that I bought at Wal-mart (of all places), and I don't think I've watered it since Christmas. It's quite happy on my deck in the heat and humidity. It rains occasionally, so I guess that's all it needs. I stuck it out there once the cold evenings had passed. Before that, I had it sitting on an end table by a bay window so that it could get light and warmth. It sure is happy. It's even getting ready to blossom again!

Before I show you the current pictures, I want you to see how it looked when I bought it. My mom, Clara, took a picture of it for her photo hunt shortly after I had bought it. Here it is, with tiny flowers and all:

Isn't it cute?

It's a bit more rugged now, I'll admit, and I thought maybe I had figured out a way to kill a cactus. You see, it lost its purple almost entirely, and the green became spotty. Then, last week - boom! - Purple and flowers and new growth. Practically explosive! This is the second time it's grown (the first was shortly after I got it), and it's growing like crazy right now! Check it out:

All of the bumps and folds you see in these two pictures are new growth. The fold in the picture above began with the 1st growing cycle, and it is accelerating quickly in the second, with a matching fold on the far side now. The high bumps in the picture below are new this summer.

All of those bright purple ridges are flowering and will be producing new growth soon. I am so excited! I can't wait to see what shape my coral will take next.

Thanks, Grandma, for giving me (among other things) a love of cacti.

Tag - YOU're it!

Well, well. Here we go with another interesting one. Ok, I'm it.


I received this “15 YOUs” tag from my Uncle Chuck.

She gave the following instructions:
1. Write something about 15 persons you know.
2. Don't mention the names of these 15 persons.
3. If someone would asks who they are, don't tell them.
4. Tag 15 persons but don't include persons you refer to in your post.

-- And away we go . . . --

Y O U

YOU - Snore really loud, slobber everywhere, shed on the furniture, and make me complain a LOT! ...but secretly, I love you.

YOU - Came looking for me once when I was thinking about running away.

YOU - Always make me laugh.

YOU - Gave me an example to try to live up to when dealing with adversity.

YOU - Are the epitome of "punny".

YOU - Scared me by drinking a beer once.

YOU - Laughed so hard that your recliner tipped over backwards and we had to pick you back up, chair and all.

YOU - Showed me that talent is often the result of hours upon hours of difficult work and commitment to the minutiae.

YOU - Helped me see that faith and science are not enemies.

YOU - Are the reason I am addicted to blogs.

YOU - Showed me how to be a great wife, but you don't even know it.

YOU - Never grew up, did you?

YOU - Inspired me (pushed me!) into teaching in a gifted program...thanks.

YOU - Like goats more than any woman should. (Ok, that one was obvious. Sorry.)

YOU - Embrace your geekdom, and I am proud of you for it.

YOU - Talked me out of dating a stoner once. Thanks. I still owe you one.

------------------------------------------

I am SO not tagging 15 people! I'm going to go the easy route: like the meme? Use it! You've been tagged.

Scars

(Based on a true story ... loosely)

Let's start somewhere easy: I don't remember my childhood. Nothing particularly traumatic happened to me: I asked my parents. But others can recall their preschool years, their second grade plays where they dressed like bunnies and ate cake while sitting on plastic seesaws. I look at my elementary pictures and wonder what fourth grade was like.

Ok, so I lied.

I remember a few things, but one thing I can't remember is how I got this scar on my leg. I sit and stare at it as it shines in the moonlight, the lamplight, the sunlight. And I wonder, where did you come from, little scar? Was I bit by a cat? Did I fall out of a tree? Is this the aftermath of trying to pull a 180 turn in a pile of gravel on the asphalt? I don't know. But as I wonder, my thoughts turn to Shayla.

I discovered Shayla quite by accident. She just sort of appears in my memory, riding a bike on a sunny afternoon. The details of our friendship are fuzzy and my mom didn't want me going to her house and my dad didn't want me near her at all and I gave her my favorite doll before she disappeared from my memory. We were friends - fast friends. Our friendship blossomed quickly, and we were bound together forever the day she showed me her scars.

Why did she show me? Maybe I told her about the time I burned my hand on the stove. According to my folks, when I was, oh, three or so, I reached up and placed my tiny hand on a hot burner. Screaming and wailing on both sides ensued, and the next days were spent with my hand bundled and iced and propped on Dad's or Mom's shoulder as I fitfully dozed on their laps.

I bear no memories of this incident, and no scars.

But maybe I told Shayla this story one lazy summer afternoon while we hid from our folks in the lilac grove and dreamed of lives lived in far-off, exotic locations. Maybe that's why, unexpectedly, she took me into her confidence. Maybe that's why.

She said, "You wanna see something?" and then she took off her shirt to show me her frail little eight-year-old chest.

I had no words.

The swirled, twisted, striped texture of her melted skin stretched from her waist to her neck, over her right shoulder. It drizzled down past her right shoulder blade and disappeared into her shorts.

She held out her right arm. "You can touch it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

It felt smooth and wondrous. It felt foreign. Her shoulder was a silken, alien substance.

"Wow," I breathed. I looked back at her eyes. "What happened?"

Sunlight flickered on our faces as the wind rustled through the lilacs and Shayla pulled her shirt back on.

"Well, when I was four, I pulled a pot of hot water off the stove. My mom turned her back for just a sec. I was sick a real long time."

And that was it. No dramatic re-enactment, no emotion, no inflection of any kind.

We never spoke of it again. I never asked any more questions, and so I received no more answers. But they are always here, those scars. Under her shirt and under the lilacs as the sun flickers softly in the shadow.

Hi, Mom!

Time for post 3 in my series of influential people in my life.

Time to meet my mom, Clara.

Um, Mom? Moooo-oooom! Where are you? Oh, there you are.

Hi, Mom.

It's taken me a long time to write this post because it was very difficult to decide what to write about. There are so many many things that I could say here. I mean, just look at me: what DIDN'T I get from my mom?

There is such a list I could give you, but I'm going to try to hold to a reasonable number.

#1. A sense of humor.
Mom's a punny lady. Very very punny. This American Gothic photo was her idea, and nothing will get a good laughter-induced-asthma-attack going like a good pun. Getting together with Mom's family always involves funny stories, jokes, wordplay, etc. This was one of her father's coffee cups:A joke in your honor, Mom (one that earned me a follower, no less!):
Three guys walk into a bar. The fourth one ducks.


#2. Acceptance of all.
I grew up in a white home town. Let's call it Super-White, even. I think it would be safe to say that I only encountered non-white people if I was watching TV or listening to missionary stories; that's how white my early childhood was. I think it would also be fairly safe to say that the population of this home town of mine was occasionally racist in nature as well. Unfortunately, so were some of the members of my own family. But my mother? She was not, and she went out of her way to protect me from the poison of racism. The thought of judging others based on ethnicity, skin color, or demographic of any kind was simply not entertained.

I am so grateful for this gift. It has allowed me to make so many friends from so many countries (check out the countries represented in our church, for example.). It has opened doors at work. It has strengthened me as a student, broadening my interests. It helps me connect with the high schoolers I teach. It has made me a better person.



#3. Faith.
No one's perfect. Mom taught me the beauty of a forgiving God. She encouraged me to explore the Scriptures on my own and not just accept the Bible stories and pulpit messages as all there was to know. For example, instead of letting me stop with the traditional John 3:16, she also taught me John 3:17: For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.

She was willing to call me on my mistakes and own up to her own. She taught me songs and hymns and spiritual psalms.

She's also the one who gave me the first half of the verses I posted as my anthem today on the Stuff Christians Like blog.

• Micah 7:19 .. and thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.
  
• Revelation 21:1 And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea.

I always liked the visual of God creating a new heaven and earth for us, and the verse from Micah came to Mom's mind. That was easily 15+ years ago, but the connection implied will always stick with me.

So thanks, Mom, for being who you are and for helping me be who I am.