It's just a bunch of stuff that happened - Part 2: Chairs and Gardens

Friend's greenhouse on July 7th
teeny cucumbers (or zucchini?)

How it started:

In early May, we volunteered to water a friend’s greenhouse plants for seven weeks in June and July.   And then in late May I got severe sciatica.

How it’s going:

I started physical therapy in late June.  The first thing the physical therapist advised me is:  get a new office chair.  Then, do these 20 exercises/stretches at home.  Don’t do yoga.  Don't do weeding. Whenever you think of it, pull in your belly button to engage your abs.

My Black-eyed Susans on July 3rd. 
The one in the back (storebought) is prissy
 and also a favored snack of the
local wildlife. I doubt it's gonna make it.
The ones in the front are a gift
from the neighbor.

I bought a used high-end office chair.  This required crossing the Ohio River, four times, I tell you.  (There are three major rivers in this county.  Crossing any river is something people here don’t like to do.)  The local office stores had nothing suitable.  I bought from a humongous office furniture warehouse, in a warehousey section of the little river town, all the while astonished they would even entertain selling one small chair to me.   The actual chair and its price are quite comfortable for me.

This is only half of the used chairs they had.

P.T. is SOOOO time consuming.  But also beneficial.  P.T. meant less time for driving (15 minutes each way) to water plants–for a total of at least 45 minutes each time.  I had hoped to make it three times a week, but that dwindled to one or two times.  Some of the plants are thriving, but some are barely making it.  

A lovely 5-inch cucumber.
Large enough to please the Secretary of 
Defense, so I harvested it.

It’s been hellishly hot, and it doesn’t rain inside the greenhouse, so it needs a lot of water.  But not too much, because fungus can grow in the hot and moist greenhouse mini-climate (and so it has). 

I decimated the mushrooms with
the force of hose water.  I do
not think for one moment that
they are actually gone.

Then a huge sinkhole opened up in front of the hospital near where we live, adding 5 minutes to the greenhouse trip.  

Let’s do a short tally of some of the terrifying things so far this month:  

- hellishly hot, due to climate change

- sinkhole (thank God the federal government is not in charge of this one)

- cyclospora parasite infection, nationwide, due to CDC cuts

- screwworm parasite in livestock and pets, surging back, due to DOGE cuts

- dangerous smoke in the air, with AQIs above 400, due to climate change

- sciatica, due to my own stupidity + aging

And this is small potatoes compared to what some human beings are suffering because of current policies. Oh, 2026, why are you doing this?!

Those zucchini/cuke tendrils are
biologically amazing and are spreading
everywhere.  A successful species.

The tomato plants have not produced many flowers, while the cucumbers (or maybe zucchini) are threatening to take over the whole place, as squash do.  Our friend suggested I spread fertilizer and pluck some lower stems off but I simply don’t have time to do actual gardening like that, which makes me sad.

On the bright side, we have harvested some delicious lettuce, 3 beautiful little cucumbers, and 7 green beans.  This is produce that is safe from the evil parasite that the cuts to the CDC have brought us.  Yay!  It's a balm in the face of it all.

The second harvest.

Dear Reader, have you harvested anything from anywhere lately?

Part 1: Peaches Deliver Joy

Part 3 (final in this series): Empty Nest Again

Garden Tour mid-June 2026

Since this is the most effort we have put into gardening in a long time, I feel it's worth an update.  Especially since I wrecked my sciatic nerve working on it.  The garden beds have not been weeded, because of said sciatica.

The Mailbox Garden

The mailbox garden: 

snapdragons (finished blooming)

marigolds (yellow)

and balloon flowers - just starting to bloom.

Five of the six marigolds I planted have survived.

The balloon flowers are just starting to bloom!

Directly in front of the house (facing north, shady)

These impatiens (salmon-colored and white)
are planted right in front of my office.
And in the pot are supposedly
some black-eye susan vines
that I started from seed.

Geranium - a gift from the
church music director

The burnt-sienna colored coleus leaves
are being eaten by something.  And 
I think I made a mistake and planted too
much in this one pot.  

Astilbe.  Recommended for shade, and 
deer resistant.  I was only able to
plant one before being chastised by
that nerve in my leg.
I am underimpressed by this one plant.

Bleeding heart, one of two plants.
This will lose all its foliage before too long.
And then, God willing, will surge forth
in the spring and produce
those delicate hanging gems of flowers.

The "hillside" nearest the neighbor (visible from the street)

Lamb's ears (perennials, planted by me)
Verbena and Lantana (annuals, planted by
the Common Household Husband)

Verbena

Lantana

The west side - just planted this year with perennials.  

It has been hard to grow things here.

The west side, from the top.
This is on a slope.
That day lily has zero blooms.
When it does get blooms, the
creatures eat them, so maybe 
it gave up.

Bee balm - getting close to the end
of blooming.  This was gorgeous and
very satisfying to see.  I don't know
if they will bloom again this season.

Snow-in-summer.  This was done blooming
a month ago.  I love the delicate tiny
whiter-than-white flowers.

This spirea bush is almost done blooming. 

It's very bushy.  In the process of putting

together this blog post, I discovered it is

considered invasive in PA.

Blackeyed Susans.  The one in the back
is from the garden store; the others are 
a gift from the neighbor. No blooms (yet?).
That plant on the right is a mystery plant that
miraculously came back from last year.

Yarrow (tall, red) and coreopsis (yellow-orange).

Sedum.  These put forth a few little yellow flowers
which were delightful. But I  guess they are done.

This same garden bed, from below.

The east side of the house  

This is managed by the Common Household Husband, and has

practically no weeds. The plants are healthy and thick.  

That green foliage blooms bright yellow

 flowers earlier  in the spring.  

I have no idea what it is called.

The more purply plants are a large 

variety of sedum.  

The gardens are going to have to do the rest of the growing and blooming by themselves because I am currently incapable of doing any maintenance.  The blooms we are seeing give me hope.

Explosions

Holden Arboretum, Kirtland, OH

Congratulations to all you folks who had “meteor fireball” on your 2026 bingo card.  Exploding meteor over Massachusetts!  Younger Daughter says she heard it, but thought it was thunder.  

“It was definitely bigger than a normal fireball, about a yard wide,” [American Meteor Society program monitor Robert Lunsford] said.   

Are fireballs ever normal?  

I experienced my own sort of explosion this week, due to aggressive shower scrubbing on Monday and then, stupidly, excessive gardening on Wed. and Thurs.  

The dark lines in the shower floor
are not dirt but emptiness.

I had to scrub the shower because the guy was coming on Thursday to regrout the shower floor.   The only thing good about this was that I had abandoned the idea of doing the regrouting myself.  The scrubbing of the shower brought on mild sciatica. 

Gardening on a steep slope like this
is difficult.  But of course, you can't
tell from this photo that it is a steep slope.
Lamb's ear, lantana, and verbena.

Outside, we have been planting perennials and annuals galore, as our horticultural statement that we believe there will be a future with beauty in it, despite all current evidence to the contrary.  Perennials from the garden store come in DEEP buckets.   We bought a spade to dig deep holes.  And our neighbor saw me planting stuff, and gave me gobs more perennials (for free!) from her very successful garden.

And then I wanted to put in some bleeding hearts, and on Thursday the garden store finally had them in stock. This meant digging more very deep holes in rocky soil and cutting some thick roots, in a hurry because we would be away for the weekend.   This was the last straw for my sciatic nerve, which has obviously heard that it is the year 2026.  Stinging, burning pain from my butt all the way to my heel.  It became extremely painful to sit, or move to standing, and eventually even when lying down and not moving.   The pain is as intense as labor contractions, but with no prize after. 

From inside the hole for the
bleeding heart

On Friday we drove to Ohio for a planned visit to Older Daughter.  The Common Household Husband said I should go, because if not, I would regret missing the family visit.  I achieved my lifelong goal of getting my husband to stop at every rest stop, so I could stand up for a few blessed minutes.  I went on a regime of max dosages of ibuprofen and acetaminophen, which made the pain barely tolerable instead of excruciating, but had unpleasant effects on my digestion.  

I tried to distract myself from the pain by calling Younger Daughter, who has recently studied anatomy.

Me: “Please explain to me the sciatic nerve, and why it hurts so expletive-deleted much, and why I even need this nerve.”

Younger Daughter, in teacher mode:  “Are you familiar with your spine?”

Me: “That’s a political question. There are many people these days who are not familiar with their spines.”

YD basically said that the sciatic nerve is a big honking nerve (connected to the spine) which I do actually want to have because it enables walking.

Saturday we drove 40 perturbing minutes to the Holden Arboretum. Once I got out of the car I was actually able to enjoy the arboretum, as long as I kept walking and never sat down.  We saw some Quaking Aspens, which are one connected organism! The Bald Cypress is a tree that has knees.  We saw lots of gorgeous flowers too, including some of the same species that we have planted in our own garden.  

Quaking Aspen

Bald Cypress

We probably walked more than two miles, for several hours.  Quite a hike for me!

Instead of staying in Ohio another night we drove home and got to the urgent care an hour before they closed.  Confirmed that it is sciatica. The doc said, “You shouldn’t just lie in bed because that will create other more serious problems.  But don’t go on a hike or anything like that.”    2026 strikes again - I just spent hours walking around the arboretum.

With prednisone, the pain has gone from constant agony down to a dull pain when sitting, and only excruciating when getting to standing, or putting on my socks and shoes.  I have to go up and down the stairs like a toddler.  I can’t drive.

On the plus side, the shower is regrouted, the garden beds are planted, we obtained an Emergency Heating Pad, we got to visit the folks in Ohio, if briefly.  And steroids exist, at least for two more days.

And we have an explosion of flora surrounding the house. That's pretty good, for 2026.

Yellow peonies, Holden Arboretum

Yarrow, Holden Arboretum.
I wonder if ours will look like this, ever.

Star of Persia allium, and two-toned peonies,
Holden Arboretum

The Reluctant Gardener Strikes Again

Snow-in-summer, May 2015
It was neither snowing, nor summer.
But aren't they pretty!

Sunday the weather was wickedly cold and windy.  So we went to the garden store.  I bought seeds and potting soil, in what will probably prove to be a futile attempt to bring beauty into the world.

Yesterday the weather was nice enough that I did this.

Forget-me-nots, Thyme, and
Black-eyed Susan vine

The Black-eyed Susan vine seeds are
fairly large. 

By contrast, the thyme seeds are tiny.

The fatal flaw in this whole project
may be that I did not throw out the old
dirt but just mixed it with the new dirt.

Then out to the yard.
I set to digging two holes in
our less-than-ideal soil.

Into those holes I put two snow-in-summer
plants.  The existing snow-in-summer 
is at the tip of the trowel in this photo.  It 
is on its last legs, so perhaps it was
foolish to plant new ones in the same spot.

And then I sprayed the 
balloon flower sprouts with
Liquid Fence to keep the #$&*#
deer and rabbits away.

I want to eventually plant more perennials, and my more-experienced-at-gardening friends have suggested:

• butterfly weed 

• bee balm 

• anise hyssop 

• yarrow

• allium = ornamental onion

Here are my reasons – first, because all of them claim to be deer- and rabbit-resistant, grow in poor soil, and are heat tolerant.  I plan to place them next to the wall of the house that gets the sun all afternoon.  The downside is the interwebs say they are prone to powdery mildew, a fungal disease.  I don’t want to have to use chemicals. 

Here are more pros:

Butterfly weed:  I want to be nice to the butterflies.  As Ron Weasley said, “Why couldn't it have been 'follow the butterflies'?”

Bee Balm:  It is fun to say.  And I want to be nice to the bees.  As long as they keep their distance and don’t build homes in the walls of the house.

Anise hyssop: Hyssop is biblical.  “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.”  (Psalm 51:7)  Never mind that Penn State Extension says that anise hyssop (Agastache foeniculum) is not bona fide hyssop (Hyssopus officinalis). 

Yarrow:  I would plant this for the interesting foliage, although the flowers online look charming too.  

Allium:  Ornamental Onion is fun to say.  The flowers look like pompoms.

And I am also thinking of Black-eyed Susans because I have always loved them.  

And Bleeding Hearts, because we have had two that came up every spring since we moved to this house, but I think the weeds have finally choked them out.  And I’m hoping they will grow in mostly shade.  I would have bought some on Sunday but the garden store had none in stock.

Do you have a garden?  What are you planting this season?  Do you have any experience with these perennials?

Colors of Autumn

 This post is brought to you jointly by the federal government shutdown and the pre-election low that comes for me every time.

The federal shutdown is doubly painful for many in Pennsylvania because we are also without a state budget, due to the State Senate (majority You Know Who) blocking the budget because they don’t want to fund public transit.  School districts and other organizations are having to take out loans.  As far as I know, there are zero negotiations.  

Certain powerful people are just walking away from governing. 

I’m convinced it’s all intentional.  Pro-(cough)- ject (cough) 2025. 

The ones that hold the federal reins of power could end it today

but they would rather make everyone suffer.

The immediate effect on me personally from the federal shutdown is that, although I am not a federal employee, my work hours are cut in half, because half my projects involve summarizing USDA reports.  This change is not completely painful for me – last week I went door knocking 4 times.  But it has caused a severe change in my ability to concentrate, and even to know in my inner being what day of the week it is.  Is this a harbinger of what retirement will be like?  Do only retirees use the word “harbinger”?

And then there’s pre-election mental churning.  For every election, I become overly anxious about 4-5 days before the election.  The best cure for this is to go door knocking but I haven’t had that opportunity so far this week.  Another cure is to go across the country to a wedding, which we did 3 years ago on the weekend before the election, but that was not an option this year. Maybe I should just crash someone’s wedding.  I could bring campaign lit as a gift.

To keep anxiety at bay, I’ve been forcing myself to get outside with my camera, or to do modest yard work.  Here’s the resulting photo essay on autumn colors.

Shades of brown 

Yesterday I forced myself to rake the leaves
off the deck before the rain sauntered in.

Love me some richly-colored coleus.

After pushing the leaves off the deck
into the yard, I then exerted additional
effort and raked the leaves to the 
edge of the street, awaiting
the Second Coming of the Leaf Truck.

Orange to brighten our skies and our stoves

Tree-lined street seen
while door knocking

Suzanne's Sheet Pan Veggie Shawarma,
before cooking.  Hues of orange and white
because I was too lazy / low
to cut up the zucchini.

Impulse purchase for the 
Veggie Shawarma

Red to warm our hearts

Geranium.
This was actually taken at the end of summer,
on a day when I hauled out the "good" camera
and practiced the bokeh effect.

Yellow to cheer our souls

Mums seen while canvassing

Do it!

Pink and peach for sweetness and delight

Chalk drawing for Diwali,
seen while canvassing.
So delightful to see.

Impatiens, curated by the 
Common Household Husband

White and Black and Grey to keep us grounded

To the left, white flowers.
To the left, black (dead) plant, which we
decided to plant anyway, just to see what
happens in the spring.

Those white flowers were gone as of yesterday.

Wild turkeys in the neighborhood.
They refused to pose for a photo.

Green to represent love and life

At the Pre-Halloween-themed Oct 27th rally. 
The person holding this sign was dressed as Mr. Rogers.

It's always good to remember to look up.
Many of our tree leaves are still green, and those that
have turned colors seem less bright than usual.
Autumn 2025 - late and muted.

Blue for tranquility, depth, and sadness

Brilliant blue sky over the county
satellite voting location on Oct 25th

The Common Household Mom subtly exhorting
voters to vote a certain way.

Sadness for and yet resolve to support
the ones forced to be silent.

And coming full circle to the colors at our front door

At our owl's feet are stones I painted
at a Pride Festival.