What makes a visit anywhere especially memorable? The people.

Ascending the stone steps to the medieval threshold of Hotel Pallotta, my husband and I were expecting the typical polite yet reserved Buon Giorno! of Italian innkeepers. Instead, Walter Pallotta, the proprietor, extended a friendly handshake and welcomed us into the breakfast room for a frothy cappuccino he brewed and poured into a colorful hand-painted pottery cup. A touch of home, just what was needed to warm ourselves from the freezing February weather.

After settling the luggage in our cozy room ~ with a view of La Rocca Maggiore on the hilltop and the cobblestone Via San Rufino below ~ we followed Walter up a spiral staircase to the third floor sitting area for a spectacular panoramic view of Assisi and Spoleto Valley. Through arched windows, he pointed out that snow had fallen on the distant Monte Subasio.

La Rocca Maggiore, nighttime, from room of Hotel Pallotta.

Bundling up again in our overcoats, gloves, and multiple caps, we ventured out into the cold for a stop at Tempio di Minerva in Piazza del Comune

Assisi's Piazza del Comune.

and a visit to the labyrinthian Roman forum and museum under the square.

Subterranean Roman artwork.

Emerging hungry and tired, we passed through the Volta Pinta archway with its splendid sixteenth century paintings by Raffaellino del Colle, and ducked into Trattoria Pallotta.

Trattoria Pallotta, exterior.

Bouquets of yellow fuchsias greeted us. Wooden artisan decor. Warm, congenial lighting, of which the Italians are masters. Soft, linen tablecloths for each setting. Framed prints of Assisi to rest the eye upon.

Trattoria Pallotta, interior.

We settled into a secluded corner for a late lunch of truffle and black olive pesto Strangozzi (fatto a mano, pasta made by hand, of course), insalata mista, and pistachio dessert, taking our time to savor each bite. Our charming waitress from Venice, a very pretty mother of three, recommended the Assisi Rosso Sportoletti 2007 Sangiovese e Merlot, the perfect wine compliment.

That afternoon we met Margherita (Walter’s wife), and Stefania and Stefano, their grown daughter and son.

Margherita, queen of Italian cuisine.

We were pleased to see that this was a family affair of at least two generations, and smiled as we lingered in the restaurant after hours to watch the grandchildren running in to help set the tables for dinner. Three generations before long!

Stefano, our knowledgeable host.

Each afternoon in Assisi found us at Trattoria Pallotta, delighting in Margherita’s variety of delicious dishes.

Stefania, our gracious hostess.

When the restaurant officially closed for lunch, Stefania took us via narrow passageway under the dining room into an ancient cavern ~ similar to ones we had explored beneath Piazza del Comune ~ where the family stores its impressive collection of wine.

Enroute to the wine cellar.

Here the temperature remains constant the whole year round.

Wine bottles, resting peacefully.

Should we ever make our way back to Assisi, we’ll definitely stay at Hotel Pallotta and find time to visit the family art gallery, downstairs from the hotel, where we snapped this picture of Walter before catching our train to Rome and bidding him Arrivederci.

Walter, hotelier extraordinaire.

For further information on Assisi, visit the city’s official website.

Why do I garden? I garden because there’s nothing better than being in the garden as the morning sun creeps over the horizon, the dew is on the leaves, and a lone cardinal calls out to its mate. A red-tailed hawk lands on a fence inches away from me, surveying the garden for its next meal. It’s about as close to nature as you can get. The only sounds heard are the sounds of nature.

Why do I garden? There’s nothing better than spotting the first ripe tomato of the season, picking it off the vine, wiping it on your sleeve and biting into it. It’s almost heaven.

Why do I garden? What can beat picking a beautiful rose from your garden, putting it in a vase, and delivering it to an elderly friend or neighbor? The smile on their face is priceless.

Why do I garden? Watching the amazement on the faces of a room full of second graders as the seeds they planted begin to germinate. Seeing the wonder in their eyes as they peer into a worm bin where they’ve deposited their apple cores and orange peels and seeing the dark brown compost that the red worms have created.

Why do I garden? I garden because there’s nothing more rewarding than shaking the hand of a disadvantaged inner-city resident who is thanking me for helping them create a community garden on a vacant lot in their neighborhood. A garden that will supply them with fresh produce which otherwise they wouldn’t be able to afford.

Sweet, Sweet Williams.

Why do I garden? I garden because of the pride I feel as a couple out for an evening stroll stops to admire my rose garden and tells me how beautiful it is.

Why do I garden? I garden because of the satisfaction that I feel when a cutting I’ve started begins to develop roots — especially after the 20 previous cuttings didn’t root.

Why do I garden? Borrowing from Will Rogers, “I never met a gardener I didn’t like,” garden clubs, plant exchanges, master gardener groups — whether they are doctors, lawyers, judges or factory workers — where gardeners gather there is giving and friendship. Gardeners are always willing to share their plants with you or to offer advice for a problem that you are having. Gardeners are a great bunch of people.

Why do I garden? With all the drugs out there today being touted as stress relievers, the garden is the safest, most effective stress reliever there is. After a stressful day at work, dive into the garden for an hour or two. Pull some weeds. Deadhead some flowers. Within a short time your problems of the day will be forgotten.

These are some of the reasons that I like to create and nurture gardens.

How about you? Why do YOU garden?

Paul Rodman, an Advanced Master Gardener and American Rose Society Consulting Rosarian, has been gardening for over 40 years. He is the garden columnist for The News Herald in Southgate, Michigan, and has written for Organic Gardening and Dave’s Garden. Paul’s favorite pastime is teaching children about gardening.

Freedom is a question of perspective. And the border that divides Mexico and the United States is a prime example.

I’ve often pondered the reasons why some folks illegally race into the U.S., often risking their lives, to join millions of people there who are living in a rat race. The obvious reason is economics; people need jobs to generate income to feed themselves and their loved ones.

Unfortunately, if you live in a country that can’t offer you a job, you can either leave or starve. Thus, many Mexican’s were forced to leave their homes and families to live marginal lives at minimum wages or less in the U.S.

During the  good economical times many U.S. employers gladly and illegally hired migrant workers to boost their own profits. But those “glory days” are now over and many people on both sides of the border are trying to decide which way to run for survival, into Mexico or into the U.S.?

The issue has become more complicated because of the global economic downturn. For example, in the United States, just over the last three years, American households lost US $11 trillion in stocks, retirement funds, real estate, and savings. In California alone, over two million seniors with limited finances or pensions can’t make ends meet and are facing starvation and homelessness.

Guadalupe Valley, Baja's celebrated wine country, less than an hour's drive from downtown Ensenada. Photo credit: Creative Commons: tj scenes/Flickr.

These days almost half a million people 34 years and older have been forced to move back in with their parents and there has been more than a ten percent increase in the number of households with more than one family. In addition, more than one half of all American workers were forced to take pay cuts in hours or lost their jobs entirely.

To make matters worse, many U.S. cities and the federal government are almost or completely bankrupt. The final blow for the American public was that the only ones “financially bailed out” by the government (with citizen tax dollars) were banks, financial companies, auto manufacturers, and big corporations. Many dedicated and hard working Americans were pushed into the gutters by their own government.

These facts seem to make a point that running into the U.S. for employment or lifestyle enhancement might not be as wise or worth the risk that it once was. The great “American Dream” has turned into a temporary nightmare for people who once so loyally and often blindly believed in their country.

Many Mexicans working in the U.S. have been forced to move back to their native homes but now they are armed with skills and knowledge that have helped to build a bigger and better middle-class in Mexico.

La Bufadora, a favorite attraction, is a marine geyser or blowhole located on the Punta Banda Peninsula, 20 miles south of Ensenada. Photo credit: Viktoria Vidali.

Interestingly, the current unemployment rate in the northwestern State of Baja California is 5%, in contract to about 15% (real numbers) in California.

And many Americans on limited budgets or retirement programs have taken a brave leap into living in Mexico. For example, living in Baja California costs about one third that of living the same quality lifestyle in Southern California. Fresh seafood, hormone and antibiotic free beef, produce, baked goods, and most grocery items are less than one half the price, utilities are one third, rents about half, public transportation is abundant, and medical/dental services are about one third of the cost in the U.S.

Ensenada Harbor. Photo credit: Creative Commons, tj scenes/Flickr.

The pace of life here is in the slow lane, the near-perfect weather of Ensenada is Mediterranean-like, and many U.S. companies like Home Depot, Wal-Mart, Costco, and Smart & Final have opened outlets in the region, making an easy transition for retirees. Many newcomers have set up banking locally and now receive their pension checks and retirement payments directly into their accounts in Mexico.

I’m not a fan or a follower of politicians, lawyers, big government, large corporations or economic slavery, so I took the plunge and moved to Baja California in 2004. I’ve been visiting this area since I was a child, so I understood what I was in for, plus I have always felt comfortable with the simple lifestyle here.

One can say or think what they want about the Mexican government, but one important issue is that for the most part they leave you alone, are less restrictive, and allow you to work and prosper if so desired.

I applied for a legal visa to live and work in Mexico by going through a simple and inexpensive process. Once I became a legal guest resident in Baja California, I purchased my “500 square meters of freedom” in Mexico’s premier wine country. By luck, I was able to purchase property, plant a small vineyard and citrus orchard, and build an adobe studio, all for under $20,000 cash.

Then came the financial crash of 2008 and all I had left was a house, homegrown food, and no liabilities. And, of course, I make about a barrel of wine each year to ease the pain and suffering of my newly found freedom.

Wine offerings from Guadalupe Valley, Baja, California. Photo credit: Steve Dryden.

As an independent freelance writer on wine, food, travel, and film, I’ve found that Mexico’s emerging wine country has provided me with much material to talk and write about over the last seven years. My arrival into this community –  just as the wine industry was transitioning into creating premium wines – was perfect timing. The diverse winemakers here from many parts of the world were perfecting their skills with high quality Baja California grapes and all I had to do was taste it and tell the world about Mexico’s silent revolution in creating high quality wines.

I drove into town to get a kilo of fresh sea bass and some veggies, all for under $10 USD. Saw three chefs I know. It's really hard to beat life here in Ensenada and we've got 45 wineries to taste and tour. Photo credit: Steve Dryden.

Once the wine culture started to emerge and progress, it became apparent that the local artisan chefs were able and capable of creating world-class culinary delights to match with the local wines. Little did we know that Ensenada would eventually become the “Wine and Culinary Capital of Mexico.”  Thus, living in this area became a real blessing with an abundance of world-class wine and cuisine, not to mention the weekly wine and culinary events, concerts, and the unexpected daily adventures only found when living in Mexico.

Freedom is a question of perspective. Sometimes you have to look at borders, walls, barriers, and broken dreams as opportunities. Brave souls know that with faith and determination one can walk from a nightmare into a dream. Wise people understand that the road to freedom is not an easy one, but that possibility is never explored without the first step.

I found my “five hundred square meters of freedom” and I thank Mexico for that opportunity. In reality we’re all migrants, seeking happiness, love and security wherever opportunity and timing allow us to find them. And despite many problems facing the U.S., people can still make dreams come true wherever they are.

Steve Dryden (pictured above) is a wine, culinary, and travel writer based in Mexico’s premier wine country where he grows northern Italian Nebbiolo grapes, makes Barbaresco-style wine, and guides small group wine tours. He can be reached at: sbdryden@hotmail.com. Follow his wine and culinary adventures at Food and Wine Global Guide.

Thumbnail image courtesy of Creative Commons, tj scenes/Flickr.

All things consist of carrying to term and then giving birth. To allow the completion of every impression, every germ of feeling deep within, in darkness, beyond words, in the realm of instinct unattainable by logic, to await humbly and patiently the hour of the descent of new clarity: that alone is to live one’s art, in the realm of understanding as in that of creativity.

Underlying this profound advice from one of the world’s greatest poets, Rainer Maria Rilke, is the understanding that the work of the artist never stops, just as breathing never stops as long as a person lives. Every experience, thought, feeling, discovery, every sorrow and happiness contributes to the artist’s work. Over time, the artist’s life becomes likewise a work of art.

In a recent interview, Mary Oliver, America’s foremost woman poet, talks about her daily walks in the woods, the source of her creative inspiration. In her solitary morning meanderings, without hurry, and surrounded by nature, nothing is forced. Like the wind, thoughts come and go. Any idea or turn of phrase that captures her imagination she pencils on a writing tablet she has brought along. Inspiration does not come every day. However, she waits patiently, ready to receive; and once she has received, she works with full attention, discipline, and joy to bring the poem to fruition.

A year doesn’t matter; ten years are nothing. To be an artist means not to compute or count; it means to ripen as the tree, which does not force its sap, but stands unshaken in the storms of spring with no fear that summer might not follow. It will come regardless. But it comes only to those who live as though eternity stretches before them, carefree, silent, and endless. I learn it daily, learn it with many pains for which I am grateful: Patience is all!

This advice presupposes trust, the kind of trust we have that the sun will rise each day. When we are sincere in our efforts, when we persevere diligently and train ourselves well in our craft, when we allow our talents to blossom without the sharp thorn of self-criticism and doubt, we will give birth to a work of beauty.

Too often we give up in frustration because we feel we are not making progress. Perhaps we have not “produced” anything. Creative work fanned by intuition can never be made “to order” on a schedule because it unfolds in an altogether different time-realm. Indeed there are periods in an artist’s life of lush creativity; then may follow a desert, when few, if any, ideas come. When this happens, it is reassuring to remember Rilke’s advice, born of experience:

Patience is all!

Rilke quotations are from Letters to a Young Poet, Third Letter.

This letter was sent by an American living in Sendai to her loved ones after the 9.0 earthquake and tsunami in Japan (March 11, 2011).

Hello My Lovely Family and Friends,

First I want to thank you so very much for your concern for me. I am very touched. I also wish to apologize for a generic message to you all. But it seems the best way at the moment to get my message to you.

Things here in Sendai have been rather surreal. But I am very blessed to have wonderful friends who are helping me a lot. Since my shack is even more worthy of that name, I am now staying at a friend’s home. We share supplies like water, food and a kerosene heater. We sleep lined up in one room, eat by candlelight, share stories. It is warm, friendly, and beautiful.

During the day we help each other clean up the mess in our homes. People sit in their cars, looking at news on their navigation screens, or line up to get drinking water when a source is open. If someone has water running in their home, they put out sign so people can come to fill up their jugs and buckets.

Utterly amazingly, where I am there has been no looting, no pushing in lines. People leave their front door open, as it is safer when an earthquake strikes. People keep saying, “Oh, this is how it used to be in the old days when everyone helped one another.”

Quakes keep coming. Last night they struck about every 15 minutes. Sirens are constant and helicopters pass overhead often.

We got water for a few hours in our homes last night, and now it is for half a day. Electricity came on this afternoon. Gas has not yet come on.

But all of this is by area. Some people have these things, others do not.  No one has washed for several days. We feel grubby, but there are so much more important concerns than that for us now. I love this peeling away of non-essentials. Living fully on the level of instinct, of intuition, of caring, of what is needed for survival, not just of me, but of the entire group.

There are strange parallel universes happening. Houses a mess in some places, yet then a house with futons or laundry out drying in the sun.

People lining up for water and food, and yet a few people out walking their dogs. All happening at the same time.

Other unexpected touches of beauty are first, the silence at night. No cars. No one out on the streets. And the heavens at night are scattered with stars. I usually can see about two, but now the whole sky is filled.

The mountains are Sendai are solid and with the crisp air we can see them silhouetted against the sky magnificently.

And the Japanese themselves are so wonderful. I come back to my shack to check on it each day, now to send this e-mail since the electricity is on, and I find food and water left in my entrance way. I have no idea from whom, but it is there. Old men in green hats go from door to door checking to see if everyone is OK. People talk to complete strangers asking if they need help. I see no signs of fear. Resignation, yes, but fear or panic, no.

They tell us we can expect aftershocks, and even other major quakes, for another month or more. And we are getting constant tremors, rolls, shaking, rumbling. I am blessed in that I live in a part of Sendai that is a bit elevated, a bit more solid than other parts. So, so far this area is better off than others. Last night my friend’s husband came in from the country, bringing food and water. Blessed again.

Somehow at this time I realize from direct experience that there is indeed an enormous Cosmic evolutionary step that is occurring all over the world right at this moment. And somehow as I experience the events happening now in Japan, I can feel my heart opening very wide. My brother asked me if I felt so small because of all that is happening. I don’t. Rather, I feel as part of something happening that much larger than myself. This wave of birthing (worldwide) is hard, and yet magnificent.

Thank you again for your care and Love of me,

With Love in return, to you all,

Anne

With gratitude to Ginger Bareis for first sharing this heart-warming communication with us.

If you enjoyed this post, please visit Four Years In Earth Spirit to read guest writer Serge Yalichev’s reflections on Japan.

It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
Or toes.

How soles of feet know
Where they’re supposed to be.

I’ve been thinking about the patience
Of ordinary things, how clothes
Wait respectfully in closets
And soap dries quietly in the dish,
And towels drink the wet
From the skin of the back.

And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?

~ Pat Schneider

Reprinted by permission.

Image ~ above right ~ Creative Commons, echiner1/Flickr.
Thumbnail image ~ Creative Commons, Ana Cotta/Flickr.

If you enjoyed this post, you might also like to read Feline Felicity and Canine Charisma.

The Cattail

The beautiful Cattail dinnerware design was sold by many companies in the 1930′s and 40′s, most notable Sears and Roebuck, Universal Pottery and Hall China. Its striking Chinese red-colored blooms on an ivory background made it a bestseller. Although collectible and used for display, what is more important is that it immortalizes a remarkable wildflower that has myriad uses along with medicinal properties.

The Cattail is of the genus Typha (T. latifolia) and grows throughout the United States in wetlands or any soil that remains saturated; therefore, it may be seen growing densely in ditches, rivers, streams and ponds. Like most primitive plants, its male pollen and female bloom spikes grow separately with the brown cigar-shaped seed head being the female. The Native Americans had a hundred uses for Cattail, among them weaving the plant’s hemp fibers into fishing line, mats for sitting and burials, coverings for wigwams, shoes, dolls and baskets.

It is recorded that the wigwam coverings were so well crafted that not a single drop of rain entered, even during a torrential downpour. Also called “bulrush,” it boasts many edible uses depending on the season and has been called a “wild supermarket”¹ or “four season plant.”

In early spring the new roots or corms may be dug up and peeled and eaten in salads or stews. Later when the male and female shoots appear, they may be shucked and eaten much like corn and are said to be delicious.² Later in the summer the male head will develop powdery pollen, which can be shaken into a jar and used with flour in breads, cakes and as a thickener. In addition, when the plant starts to toughen, the roots produce a starch which contains gluten, the mainstay of wheat bread, and which can be harvested and eaten like potatoes up until the following spring.

As if this were not enough, this incredible wildflower also has medicinal properties. Its roots have been used as an antiseptic for burns, insect bites and toothaches.

Its seeds have a downy coating that is used as stuffing in bedding and pillows and its cigar shaped heads have been dipped in oil and used as torches.

With so many uses and applications, it is not remarkable that this wildflower’s design would be chosen as décor for pottery. What is amazing is that it has not been even more properly revered. So the next time you are out “roughing it,” look for a cluster of Cattails, as this is truly a survivalist’s food stuff.

Saguaro Cactus

Of the many popular decals used on vintage dinnerware, some of the most sought after are the Mexican designs. Brightly colored in orange, reds and greens, the details of the designs almost always feature a cactus tree. Called Tia Juana, Sleeping Mexican and Mexicali, among other design names, the cactus most often featured is the Saguaro Cactus (Cereus giganteus). It is striking and immediately noticeable in the landscape. Usually seen in dry areas, it is a symbol of the Southwest and its night blooming blossoms are Arizona’s state flower.

Tall and stately, the Saguaro grows from 50 to 75 feet and will hold a ton of water in its arms, which take 45 to 75 years to sprout. Saguaro blooms in May and June from the top of its stem and is cross pollinated by bees and bats. It is an important part of its desert ecosystem in that its fruits feed the desert animals and wildlife and it provides a shady home for many birds. Considering that it can live to be over 200 years old but is very slow growing, about an inch a year, this fact has put the Saguaro on the endangered list and Arizona actually has laws pertaining to moving or harming the Saguaro. Popular in art and design, its symbol adds a great touch to kitchen décor.

Left: Tulip pattern; Middle: Orange/Apple Tree pattern

Kitchen Kraft

The 1930′s saw the production of a dinnerware line called Kitchen Kraft produced by the Homer Laughlin China Co. with Frederick Rhead as the designer. With few exceptions, the company featured a host of floral designs that are still very popular today. This heavy duty ware is suitable for table or oven, some is even embossed with the design, instead of fired on, and hand-painted. The floral decals are too numerous to mention but shown (above) are some of the more popular floral designs.

Citations:
1. http://www.wildmanstevebrill.com/Plants.Folder/Cattails.html
2. http://www.backwoodshome.com/articles/duffyk43.html
3. Permission to use Aquaplant Cattail photo [panel 1, right-most image] given by Michael P. Masser, Ph.D., Professor and Extension Fisheries Specialist, Texas A&M University.

Joyce B. Gladden, a transplanted New Yorker now living in Virginia, is an author, novice gardener, quilter, and book collector. She is a frequent contributor to Dave’s Garden. Her plant of choice, about which she has written, is the coleus. In text photographs for this post are courtesy of Joyce.

Image ~ above right ~ Saguaro Cactus.
Thumbnail image ~ Creative Commons, Rich Anderson.

Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors
which it passes to a row of ancient trees.
You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you,
one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth,

leaving you, not really belonging to either,
not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent,
not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing
that turns to a star each night and climbs–

leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads)
your own life, timid and standing high and growing,
so that, sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out,
one moment your life is a stone to you, and the next, a star.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Translation by Robert Bly.

Image ~ above right ~ Creative Commons, Moon Over Redwood Forest, Zest Pk/Flickr.
Thumbnail image ~ Creative Commons, Phil Thomas/Flickr.

What better occasion could there be to introduce the art of the cutting flowers than Valentine’s Day?

Ideal Time to Cut

The time of day flowers are cut is critical. Basically, heat, sun and wind are anathema (Greek for: thing devoted to evil) and ensure quick wilting. Cutting early in the morning or late afternoon (dusk) contributes to a long vase life. The cut flower industry has invested mega millions of dollars and research into which time period is optimal. Essentially, they both work as they are times of minimum transpiration, when plants are not losing moisture at a high rate.

Advantages of Morning Cutting

The plants are most turgid, or supplied with water, having had all night to recover from the moisture losses of the previous day. They also have cooler core temperature in the morning. All other factors being equal, vegetables, fruit and flowers with a cool (<50º) core temperature have greater post-harvest keeping power. Plant tissues are approximately 90% water (think of plants as merely supported columns of water). Taking flowers when they are well supplied with water keeping them supplied with water and helping them to continue to absorb more water is imperative to keeping them fresh and extending vase life.

The only disadvantage of early morning cutting is the presence of dew or fog on flower petals. This can lead to both injury and loss of true color. That assumes that you, as a gardener, are servants of the seasons and the morning’s early light and early rising is not an issue. If not, perhaps a career change .…

Advantages of Late Afternoon/Evening Cutting

Cutting at dusk or early evening takes advantage of high sugar levels in the plant, a byproduct of a day’s worth of photosynthesis. These sugars keep the flower’s metabolism going and contribute to vase life. The main disadvantage of afternoon or evening cutting is a high core temperatures and low turgidity. These can be overcome by refrigerating the flowers (34º–50ºF) and/or “pulsing” them. Pulsing involves placing the stems in deep, warm, tepid (90–100ºF) water for one hour and then plunging them into cold water (40ºF). In phase one (warm water) the stems rapidly absorb water and achieve maximum turgidity. This is based on the age-old precept: biological and chemical reactions happen more quickly at higher temperatures (up to a certain threshold). During phase two (cold water plunge) core temperature is reduced and thus transpiration (water loss) slows. There are those who say having a cut flower operation without a refrigeration unit is like having a restaurant without a kitchen. And yet we here at the Farm & Garden persist and push onward. Direct marketing has its perks, garden to kitchen table in less than 8 hours.

How to Cut

Cutting is best done with high quality, bypass (not anvil) hand shears. Or as Mr. Chadwick used to intone, secateurs (hey it’s just French for scissors, but it does have a certain cachet and thus some “old timers” still persist with it). The best of the lot are the Felco brand. They come in assorted shapes, sizes and configurations. I’m partial to the old #2 or the slimmer, longer nosed #11.

It’s important to use a sharp blade to minimize the crushing of stem cells. The lasting power of flowers in the vase is predicated on continued uptake of water from the vase up through the stem, to the bloom, and out into the atmosphere via transpiration from leaves and petal— a pressure gradient that keeps the flowers turgid. It is the xylem cells in the stem that create the sieve-tubes to facilitate this flow. Don’t crush them!

What to Cut

Vase life is aided by cutting flowers before pollination occurs. Usually at, as the floral technicians say, “full petal color differentiation” and at some degree of opening, shy of full. If cut too early, flowers tend to wilt quickly or fade before they can open fully in water. A pet peeve in this regard is dutch iris as sold in flower shops. They are cut in tight bud revealing only a hint of color and they wilt in the vase 5–7 days later before full opening, never given the opportunity to let their full fleur-de-lis flag fly. But generally, the less fully open a flower is at cutting, the longer the vase life. Note: using the same species of flower at varying degrees of openness in the same bouquet will give you a substantially varied silhouette/look: today, tomorrow and 4–5 days down the line. That is, some of the flowers are perfect today, some will open fully in 1–2 and then in 3–5 days.

It is also critical to distinguish between flowers that are at pre- and post-pollination stages. Plants are all about resource allocation, that is, putting resources where it is profitable until it isn’t and then putting them somewhere else that is now profitable. Profitable equals toward perpetuation of the species. Because flowering is a calorically exhaustive event, within hours of pollination, resource allocation shifts from alluring, shiny petals to plumping up the seed embryo. It’s all about the next generation. Thus pollinated flowers quickly lose their sheen and petals drop within a few days. This is an important search pattern for cut flower gardeners to master.

While it is incredibly species specific, here is a general guide regarding stages of development or degree of opening at which to cut flowers. When in doubt, earlier is better than later (piles of petals on that good table cloth) and when in serious doubt, about half open wins the day.

Excerpted from “Choosing, Growing & Harvesting Cut Flowers” by Orin Martin. Orin Martin ~ a living legend for his skills as a master orchardist, horticulturalist, and teacher ~manages the Alan Chadwick Garden at University of California, Santa Cruz. His article first appeared in the Fall 2010 issue of News & Notes. Friends of the UCSC Farm & Garden supports the newsletter’s production and community outreach. Happy Valentine’s Day, Orin!

If you enjoyed this, you might also like to read Harvest Festival.

Blue Willow

Once upon a time … actually, this would be an ideal way to begin the story behind the Blue Willow design of dinnerware because it is an ancient tale. Its origins date back to feudal China. One version involves secret societies and invading marauders while another tells the tale of the early Buddhists who called heaven The City of Willows. The design, originally called Mandarin, features a great willow tree in the foreground, a bridge with three figures on it, and a walled temple in the background. Above a body of water are two doves eternally bound together.

The romantic version of the plate design tells a love story of a rich Mandarin whose beautiful daughter falls in love with his clerk. Forbidden to wed, they run away, are eventually captured and put to death. At this point, the gods take pity and turn them into a pair of immortal doves. A great audio version can be heard here.

From left to right: Blue Willow and Blue Onion dinnerware

This story is said to have originated in England. The earlier Chinese designs of this pattern did not feature the doves or the wall around the temple and these may have been added later. The original design, which is elusive, depicted the tale of Buddhists receiving souls into heaven across a bridge which led to The City of Willows.

The tree featured is a Weeping or Peking Willow (Salix x pendulina and Salix x sepulcralis) native to northern China, and is a deciduous tree that grows to 20 feet but has a short life span. In fifth century ancient texts, Hippocrates, the Greek physician, wrote of its ability to remedy aches and fevers. In 1897 a new drug was developed from this tree and patented by A.G. Bayer. It is called aspirin.

Blue Onion

Porcelain was first produced in China under strict secrecy and exported to Europe where it became known simply as “china.” In the early eighteenth century the secret was discovered by scientists at the Meissen Factory. Between 1720 and 1739, Meissen worked on replicating porcelain produced in China through a process that involved color fired into the ware called “inglazing.” They called it “onion china” because of its delicate transparency. The blue cobalt decoration on the plate could have been any design as the focus was to perfect the process. However, the floral pattern originally used changed very little throughout its production.

Used for hundreds of years, this collectible pattern features a floral motif consisting of a grouping of Japanese peaches, pomegranates, stylized peonies, and asters. The stems wind in curves around the edge of the plate. Later reproductions from other factories have fewer of the original group of flora and what appears to be an onion is actually the pomegranate fruit. There is no onion in the design.

Having very little to do with the design, “onion china” is important in its role as an early European discovery of the process of producing a strong, white, transparent porcelain with a unique cobalt blue inglazing. Thus, the combination of the blue cobalt dye on the “onion china” porcelain led to the common name of “Blue Onion.”

From Cronin China Company's Blue Tulip line of dinnerware

Blue Tulip

In my efforts to recreate a 1950’s kitchen, I looked for a line of dinnerware that once sat high on a shelf in my mother’s kitchen. A pretty blue color with a simple flower pattern.  I thought it must have been very special for it was never used and only came down periodically for cleaning. Searching thrift stores and fleas, I found a small piece which had the maker’s mark. Armed with this information I was able to go online to try to purchase more of the set. What I found amazed me.

What I was searching for was the Blue Tulip line of dinnerware made by the Cronin China Company of Minerva, Ohio. My efforts to contact them would be fruitless for they went out of business in 1956. Had I been around prior to 1956, I would still not have been able to purchase this set because it was never sold.

In the early 1950′s, a popular advertising campaign was giveaways. Supermarkets and chain stores would give away wares as a promotional tool. Coca Cola gave away bottle openers, gas stations gave away mugs and ashtrays, banks gave away toasters. Free items would run the gamut from calendars to TVs. Dinnerware and kitchen items were very popular to attract shopping housewives. Today these items have become highly collectible and sought after.

My Blue Tulip ware was such an item used as an advertising promotion for A&P grocery stores. It featured a stylized blue tulip on a turquoise background. There was an A&P supermarket near our house where my mother shopped and I’m certain that must be where she got her free set.

Looking back, I conclude that she got this free set, parked it above the kitchen cabinets, and it became a decoration. I was able to find the pieces I wanted online and now I have my own giveaway set, although mine was far from free.

In conclusion: Is there a real Blue Tulip plant? The closest I could find was Blue-Tulip (Moraea polystachya), which is actually an African Iris that is highly poisonous and has more of a resemblance to violet than blue. I will add it to my list after the Blue Coleus.

Joyce B. Gladden, a transplanted New Yorker now living in Virginia, is an author, novice gardener, quilter, and book collector. She is a frequent contributor to Dave’s Garden. Her plant of choice, about which she has written, is the coleus. In text photographs for this post are courtesy of Joyce.

Image ~ above right ~ Creative Commons, Anthony Harvey.
Thumbnail image ~ Creative Commons, Sparker/Flickr.