Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
Rather wish this particular Gray's Lily on Roan Bald here in the Southern Highlands had police protection. It was dug up in '97. You can still find a few of these endangered plants that seem to only grow on rare grassy balds. It is charmingly told how the Catawba battled the Cherokee atop Roan Mountain. Fierce fighting destroyed the trees. So much blood was spilt that today only red azaleas grow atop the mountain, and the occasional blood colored Grey's Lily, of course.
Don't tell my mother. She's the kind of person this flower needs to be protected from. When we'd go to state parks in KY when I was a kid, my mother would, at some point on the trail, say, "I wonder if I can get this to grow at home?" Then she would rip up some fern, or little sapling, wrap it in a Kleenex, and stuff it into her purse.
Now, because of that imprinting, I can't walk by a nice stand of flox or hostas without thinking about how I could sneak a piece home. There are some really nice hostas on public property just up the street from my house. I could take my dog for a walk, have a little spade in my pocket and a plastic bag for doggie doo, and scoop up one of those babies. I'd probably get away with it. Oh, I know I would.
One time my mother and a couple of my aunts were at the church cemetery, decorating graves for Memorial Day. I don't think people do this a whole lot in the North, but in the South, some old people still call this Decoration Day. One of my aunts makes elaborate silk flower arrangements for the headstones of all of the departed family members. They finished at the "new" cemetery, then went to the "old" cemetery, which dates back to the early 1800s. There was a long-neglected, overgrown bunch of peonies growing there. The two of them decided to take some home. My aunt said, "I've got a grubbin' hoe in the trunk." I don't know how many women in their 60s drive around with a grubbin' hoe in their cars, but she was prepared for any opportunity, and they grubbed themselves some peonies. In that case, I think they were more like an inheritance than church property, since so many in that graveyard were kin to them.
Toy, I learned this "brain itch/ear worm" removal trick from my crusty conservative-coated girlfriend. The one with the creamy hippie love chick center. Who knows? - it might work for you.
You should have made this a contest: look at the headline alone, without clicking the link, and guess what country it is they're traveling from all ends of.
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22 comments:
Yo, Britons, I'm really happy for you, and Imma let you finish, but I just got to say Wisconsin has one of the best Cypripediums of ALL TIME!!
I suppose there are worse things than an influx of British orchid fanciers in Wisconsin Meade.
Thank God Bush's waterboarding was outlawed..
Look, I tried OK.. gimme a break.
Yeah, Triangle man, British morel hunters would be worse.
Pretty flower.
Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
Thank you, Pogo, I am duly chastened.
Next time, we shall share our morels instead of greedily consuming them ourselves and keeping secret the place where we found them in the woods.
Not.
Morels? Today at the Sow's Ear in Verona (Wisconsin, not Italy), we ate delicious Morel Quiche.
For chastening, not.
Morel secrets are meant to remain unspoken.
Less lovely than Solomon, theirs is an inner beauty, meant for the few.
I'll bet you wore one of your exquisitely crafted sweaters, Irene. Today was chilly.
Pogo, :-)
The orchid requires security?
And they want to call us violet?
I did, thank you, Meade. I bought no yarn there, however. I must show some restraint after last weekend's Milwaukee-area "yarn crawl."
Rather wish this particular Gray's Lily on Roan Bald here in the Southern Highlands had police protection. It was dug up in '97. You can still find a few of these endangered plants that seem to only grow on rare grassy balds. It is charmingly told how the Catawba battled the Cherokee atop Roan Mountain. Fierce fighting destroyed the trees. So much blood was spilt that today only red azaleas grow atop the mountain, and the occasional blood colored Grey's Lily, of course.
My first reaction to the post headline was another story has been written about the Belle of Madison.
Don't tell my mother. She's the kind of person this flower needs to be protected from. When we'd go to state parks in KY when I was a kid, my mother would, at some point on the trail, say, "I wonder if I can get this to grow at home?" Then she would rip up some fern, or little sapling, wrap it in a Kleenex, and stuff it into her purse.
Now, because of that imprinting, I can't walk by a nice stand of flox or hostas without thinking about how I could sneak a piece home. There are some really nice hostas on public property just up the street from my house. I could take my dog for a walk, have a little spade in my pocket and a plastic bag for doggie doo, and scoop up one of those babies. I'd probably get away with it. Oh, I know I would.
One time my mother and a couple of my aunts were at the church cemetery, decorating graves for Memorial Day. I don't think people do this a whole lot in the North, but in the South, some old people still call this Decoration Day. One of my aunts makes elaborate silk flower arrangements for the headstones of all of the departed family members. They finished at the "new" cemetery, then went to the "old" cemetery, which dates back to the early 1800s. There was a long-neglected, overgrown bunch of peonies growing there. The two of them decided to take some home. My aunt said, "I've got a grubbin' hoe in the trunk." I don't know how many women in their 60s drive around with a grubbin' hoe in their cars, but she was prepared for any opportunity, and they grubbed themselves some peonies. In that case, I think they were more like an inheritance than church property, since so many in that graveyard were kin to them.
Toy
Since we're quoting the New Testament in this post, my contribution, considering the above post, is "Lead us (me!) not into temptation."
Toy
You should order yarn online. That's what my wife does. Sow's Ear never has quite the right color/texture for her.
It's great to be up north in the woods when the Lady's Slippers are blooming.
"Lead us (me!) not into temptation."
And deliver Toy from poaching...
Right, Meade! But how do I get rid of that little brain itch?
Toy, I learned this "brain itch/ear worm" removal trick from my crusty conservative-coated girlfriend. The one with the creamy hippie love chick center. Who knows? - it might work for you.
Take one 11. 5D (Fifth Dimemsion) and call me in the morning.
You should have made this a contest: look at the headline alone, without clicking the link, and guess what country it is they're traveling from all ends of.
I thought Japan.
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