So, it keeps snowing here and our cat eats pretty much all my stuff, including my houseplants. (Of course, she leaves all my hubby’s possessions alone – his newspaper apparently doesn’t taste nearly as delicious as my research notes or my library books).
My solution? Grow air plants. You do this indoors so the snow doesn’t matter a whit. The air plants I can afford are tiny. They don’t need soil (soil, another thing Smudge thinks is seriously PAWsome – um, did I just write that?!). I can put them in jars and other decorative containers and hang or place them out of cat reach, which is an actual zone in the house with a fixed length and breadth that has taken me a year to get a solid grasp of.
Anyway, now I fear I may want to collect the darn things. (The air plants, not cats. Smudge is ALL the cat).* I accidentally went to the garden centre the other day (had to take two trains and walk three blocks uphill both ways in the blasting wind) and came home with yet another air plant. I would have bought the large red one as well (it was RED!) except it was priced at the equivalent of a few hours of my salary and I thought maybe my hubby might be a bit grumpy with me. So I’m saving up for it. I’ll tell him it’s cheaper than a new car, and he cannot argue with that. I just wish they would label the silly things so I would know the cultivars. Tillandsia doesn’t help me; I knew that already. 😉 And I BEG and PLEAD that the ones in some of the grocery stores would be treated with more dignity and not GLUED into their containers. They cannot be watered properly and they’ll keel over at some point from neglect. Air plants are not made of plastic. They are actually alive and need some care.
While meandering through reams of information about air plants for an article I recently wrote, I came across some fantastic titles at the library – if you are interested in this captivating genus, track down Air Plant Care and Design by Ryan and Meriel Lesseig and Zenaida Sengo’s Air Plants. The Lesseig book, in particular, is brilliant, impeccably researched and extremely detailed.
Do you grow air plants?
Do you have an indoor cat (or cats)? What creative solutions did you come up with to maintain your houseplants in the same space as your curious feline?
It’s easy to see why I adore larch trees, particularly in autumn.
And yes, that is snow in the background! We’ve had two significant snow storms in Calgary since September 29th. The first one dumped 31 centimetres (12.2 inches) of the white stuff on us (which, amazingly, wasn’t a record, although it was close). More snow is expected early next week so I had better try to get my garlic planted in the next few days!
If you’ve been following Flowery Prose for a while, you’ll know that aside from a couple of cases – absurdly weird filter here; and cropping here (because, trust me, you don’t want to get close to this sort of wildlife) – I don’t edit my photos. They are all straight out of the camera (excepting the resizing, of course). But I decided to take this one to the point of ridiculously soft…like an oversized fuzzy fleece blanket to snuggle under and sleep away this Autumn-That-Thinks-It’s-Winter. Conveniently, the Comfort Filter™ hides the fact that there was already a lingering skiff of snow on the ground as we wandered this beautiful trail outside of Bragg Creek, Alberta.
Another photo from our snowshoeing trip to Fullerton Loop, near Bragg Creek, Alberta, a couple of Sundays ago. The snow and cloudy skies turned the whole world black and white…with just a hint of blue. The silence was magical.
I don’t recall such a snowy February here in Calgary…we’ve definitely got good snowshoeing weather at the moment. The thing is, the risk of avalanches in the mountains is massive right now and sticking to safe terrain is crucial. Fullerton Loop, outside of Bragg Creek, fits the bill perfectly: it’s a no-risk snowshoe trek, fast and easy and short (just over 6 kilometres). It’s fairly heavily trafficked right now, so if you don’t have snowshoes, you can simply hike it (and at this very moment, you probably don’t need microspikes).
We headed out there last Sunday morning and it snowed the whole time; in fact, Highway 66 wasn’t even ploughed when we arrived at the trailhead, beating the crowds that arrived later in the day. For us, it was snow…trees…quiet. Blissful.