Garden Detective

So I was riding on the LIRR with my daughter's Girl Scout troop and a bunch of other moms yesterday, heading into the city to see Stomp (again), when my friend Robyn starts telling me about a magazine she received in the mail that she never subscribed to.

That sort of thing has happened to me, too. I once got Parents magazine for an entire year, without asking for it -- or paying for it. Weird.

But this is even weirder. Robyn tries to tell me that the name of the magazine is --

OK sit down. No really, sit down. And make sure you have a cold glass of water nearby. You might need it.

The name of the magazine is "Garden and Gun."

I laugh and tell her I know she's pulling my leg, but Robyn sticks to her story. Now I was sure this was one of those instances when your friend tries to convince you of something you know must be a joke, and then just when you start to believe her, she yells, 'Gotcha!'

But the 'Gotcha!' never came. She went on to describe how one page of the magazine talks about composting, and the next profiles different rifles available on the market.

Robyn was appalled that anyone would even think of combining something like gardening, which nurtures nature, with something like guns, which, well, destroys nature. I still didn't believe her, but I joked about how it would be an economical way for a household to subscribe to magazines. One stop shopping: Gardening for her, hunting for him, all between the same two covers.

We arrived home at around 9 PM, and at about 9:30 my doorbell rang. It was Robyn with the magazine. "I knew you didn't believe me," she said. "I had to prove it to you."

And right there on the cover, under the big, bold title "Garden & Gun," it got even weirder: "21st Century Southern America"

Now, granted, I'm a Yankee. Born and raised in New York City. So maybe I don't have my finger on the pulse of 21 Century Southern America. So, help me out here. Could this really be it?

Launch the slideshow

I'm going to Disney World in April to celebrate my daughter's birthday. She's bringing two friends along, and our party of 6 will spend most our time in The Magic Kingdom and the newly renamed Disney Hollywood Studios (nee MGM). She's the birthday girl. It's her choice. It's not every day you turn 16.

What this has to do with you is that although I'll be in the very-close vicinity, I won't be checking out the Disney flower fest this year. However, I got my hands on a video overview, above, and some great photos, right. Enjoy.

Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt (Gabriel Bouys, AFP / Getty Images)

Brangelina have made an offer to purchase a beautiful $20 million stone mansion in France and are planning to move there, according to unconfirmed reports circulating on the internet today.

The UK newspaper the Telegraph reported earlier this month that "a famous Hollywood couple and their nine assistants" had expressed interest in the home, named "Mas de la Chapelle St. Sixte," over the summer. When they first considered buying the 850-year-old, fully-renovated home nearly a year ago, the couple reportedly lost interest after failing to get approval to build a motorcycle track in the rolling five-acre garden. A motorcycle track in the rolling five-acre garden.

A motorcycle track in the rolling five-acre garden.

Let's let that settle in for a moment, shall we...

South America's Creepy Argentinian Gnome. left, bears a striking resemblance to the Travelocity gnome, which was similar to the one at the center of my own garden mystery.

I had forgotten about that incident, which I had assumed was a neighborhood hoax, until reading about the Creepy Gnome that's terrorizing a town in Argentina.

Several residents of General Gueme have reported seeing the creature stalking the streets at night, wearing a pointed hat and walking sideways like a crab, leaving the locals holed up in their homes for fear of coming face to face with it, the UK newspaper The Sun has reported.

A few local teenagers hanging out at night caught images of the monster on a cell phone camera. Check it out:

If you ask me, my gnome story is more interesting -- and more credible.

It's flower show time, not just on Long Island, but in Philadelphia, Atlanta, England.....

Garden shows are as much a sign of spring as crocuses. If you're stuck here, as I am, check out the Hicks Flower and Garden Show (through March 9) and the The New York Botanical Garden Orchid Show (through April 6 in the Bronx, nybg.org. You won't be disappointed with either. However, if you've got some vacation time to burn, check out some of these:

The Philadelphia Flower Show, through March 9, Pennsylvania Convention Center, Philadelphia, theflowershow.com.

The EPCOT Flower and Garden Festival at Walt Disney World, Florida disneyworld.com/flower.

New England Spring Flower Show, March 8-16, Bayside Expo Center. Boston, www.masshort. org/New-England-Spring-FlowerShow.

Chicagoland Flower & Garden Show, March 8-16, Stephens Convention Center in Rosemont, chicagoflower.com.

San Francisco Flower & Garden Show, March 12-16, the Cow Palace, gardenshow.com.

Camellia Walks, Middleton Place, Charleston, S.C., Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays through March 29, middletonplace.org.

Virginia Historic Garden Week (75th anniversary with events around the state), April 19-27, vagardenweek.org.

Atlanta Botanical Garden "Orchid Daze, Gargoyles & Grace," through March 30, atlantabotanicalgarden.org.

Atlanta Dogwood Festival, April 4-6, Lenox Square; dogwood.org.

The famed Chelsea Flower Show in London is May 20-24, rhs.org.uk/chelsea/index.html.

Above, Walt Disney World photo, EPCOT Flower and Garden Festival, 2008

Aerial view of the Svalbard Global Seed Vault | Photo courtesy Cary Fowler/Global Crop Diversity Trust

When I start seeds indoors for my vegetable garden every spring, invariably some don't grow. Last year, I sowed an entire package of carrots and didn't get one viable plant.

What if those were the only seeds I had -- and there were no grocery stores? I'd be up a creek, I'm afraid, without the proverbial paddle.

To avert such a calamity should disaster strike, Norway has created a "Doomsday Vault," and placed within it 4.5 million seed samples from around the world. At a cost of $9.1 million, the concrete vault dug into the side of a mountain was built to withstand climate change, wars, natural disasters such as earthquakes, and nuclear attacks in order to protect those seeds, and will reside deep in the permafrost of an Arctic mountain. Its steel airlock doors ensure a tight seal.

Its aim? To make it possible to re-establish crops should they be obliterated or become extinct.

The Svalbard Global Seed Vault will be officially inaugurated officially tomorrow, less than a year after crews started drilling for it in Norway's Svalbard archipelago.

Photo at left (courtesy Mari Tefre/Global Crop Diversity Trust) shows the inside of the Doomsday Vault.

But this isn't the first time anyone has thought of such a thing. There are some 1,400 other seed banks in the world. Svalbard is a Plan B of sorts, in case those others don't make it. A few have already bitten the dust: Seed banks in Iraq and Afghanistan have been destroyed by war, another in the Philippines was wiped out in a 2006 typhoon.

Though Norway owns the vault, each country that 'deposits' seeds will continue to own their contributions.

Armed guards protect against polar bears, but threats such as war aren't a likelihood in the isolated region, some 600 miles from the North Pole.

The vault is expected to last at least as long as Egypt's ancient pyramids.

It's good to know my carrots will have a backup.

Pooktre.com Photo

I've heard of chopping down trees and then make furniture out of them, but never making furniture of them before chopping them down. But Peter Cook and Becky Northey in Australia have done just that. They're making furniture like chairs and mirrors, and even crafting sculptures by training their trees to grow into people shapes and other forms. I wonder if they serve as scarecrows.

They've called the practice Pooktre. It's among the most creative thing I've ever seen. So cool. You have to check it out.

What did one snowbirding Long Islander do after hurricanes near her Florida home shook up her palm trees? Check out the Cheap Thrills blog to learn about the unique way Bay Shore's Suzanne Rall-Smith recycled them.

I know Gardens Around the World usually runs on Fridays, but I couldn't let today go by without honoring the great Martin Luther King, Jr., and telling you about the first garden solely dedicated to him in the U.S.

Built in 1989, Raleigh, NC's Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial Gardens is open around the clock for self-guided tours. It features a sensory-inspired bronze statue of Dr. King, which is life-sized and situated so that it can be accessible to those who are wheelchair-bound, visually impaired or otherwise challenged. After sundown, the statue is illuminated.

There's a King Memorial Wall that's constructed of 2,500 bricks engraved with the names of benefactors who helped make the park possible.

And, of course, there are the gardens. Visitors can walk among more than 5000 trees, shrubs and plants on the grounds.

Of course, there are many streets in the country named in MLK's honor, and many monuments commemorating him -- most notably the King Center in his birthplace of Atlanta, Ga., but the Raleigh site was the first garden dedicated solely to his memory, and not part of another garden or park.

The city of Columbia, Mo., has a unique Martin Luther King Jr. memorial at Battle Garden. The "environmental sculpture resembling a small amphitheater" comprises eight triangular columns of varying heights, each depicting an excerpt from King's writings.

City of Columbia Office of Cultural Affairs photo

Since writing about the nude gardening movement last week -- and wondering aloud about its potential hazards -- others who share my concern have been alerting me to all sorts of gardening accidents.

Some sound too sensational to be true, but I did some poking around and confirmed many, indeed, are based on fact. Be careful out there; it's dangerous.

In 2004, Incubus singer Brandon Boyd severed 90 % of his Achilles tendon while repotting a plant. He allegedly credited the injury with having helped him cut to the front of airport security lines.

Last July, Brooklyn blogger Clueless Gardener severed an entire fingertip while deadheading.

In 2003, heavy metal vocalist Ronnie James Dio lost his thumb while tinkering in his garden. Some object, reportedly a garden gnome (though I wasn't able to confirm this) was knocked from a ledge above him. He sustained the injury when he tried to protect his head with his hand. The thumb was successfully reattached.

Then there's the fictitious Spinal Tap, whose drummers dropped like flies. While one spontaneously combusted and another choked on someone else's vomit (?!?), there was one who actually died in a vague "bizarre gardening accident." No further explanation was provided.

In a tragic life-imitates-art scenario, Jeff Porcaro, drummer for the band Toto, died in 1992 at the age of 38 from an allergic reaction to a weed killer he was applying in his garden.

Completely unrelated to actual gardening events, but noteworthy nonetheless, Angry Salad, a band I never heard of but whose name amuses me, released an album in 1997 titled, "Bizarre Gardening Accident." I wonder whether it's a nod to the Spinal Tap legacy. The CD contains a cover of Nena's "99 Red Balloons."

Last February, I ripped my fingertip open when it became caught between the slats of my garage door as it was opening. I was going in there to get some potting soil, so I think that counts as a gardening accident. It didn't require stitches, but I did have to wear a splint for 2 weeks.

I just hope no one was ever injured in a blogging accident.

In honor of the season, let's look toward the east and visit the gardens of Ramat Hanadiv. It's not exactly Bethlehem, but it's close enough.

Ramat Hanadiv combines natural landscapes and formal gardens on more than 1,100 acres. It was built by Baron Edmond de Rothschild (1845-1934), whose family was prominent throughout Europe and addressed the Balfour Declaration, which committed the British government to the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people. His remains and those of Baroness Adelheid de Rothschild (1853-1935) are interred at the Memorial Gardens there.

Over the past fifty years, the location has been the site of many archaeological excavations and research and educational projects. It's also a popular destination, where visitors enjoy the Rose Garden, Fragrance Garden, Tree Walk and Therapeutic Gardens in addition to public concerts at the Amphitheatre and a hiking trail that make Ramat Hanadiv one of the most popular nature spots in Israel.

Click the Rose Garden photo above or below to enter.

I'm taking a week off to de-stress and to spend with my family. Those two verbs don't ordinarily belong in the same sentence, but I'm ever the optimist :)

I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a healthy, happy, prosperous and GREEN 2008.

Have you ever seen a ghost orchid? Have you even ever heard of one? Chris Little in south Florida has discovered a secret place where these rare treasures grow. He won't reveal the location of the expedition, but has created a website devoted to his precious find. Fascinating stuff.

Click the photo below to check it out.

I finished all my Christmas shopping, so I'm in an especially good mood today. And since I did all of my shopping online, I dedicate this blog entry to my tireless UPS and DHL men, who have delivered to my house nearly every day since Thanksgiving -- sometimes stopping by twice.

To celebrate, I'm linking to three distant blogs today instead on the usual one. Enjoy.

Check out the slide show at the bottom of the page for some breathtaking photos.

Only two flowering plants have been able to survive on Antarctica -- Earth's iciest continent. Read what Julie of the Human Flower Project has to say about them. Fascinating stuff!

Sometimes, I get frustrated waiting for my plants to reach full size. Maturity takes time and requires patience. I recently encountered someone who has a completely different problem -- her plants grow too fast!

Aside from my mint and my weeds, nothing seems to grow fast enough for me. Visit La Gringa, an American transplant in Honduras and find out how the other half lives.

Andee in Chacala, Mexico, has some beautiful photos for us to enjoy while the winds whip outside our windows.

Check out the blog at Gardener in Chacala Mexico and enjoy!

Snow in July? That's what Anne Brygger from Barrow, Alaska, has to contend with.

I can barely put up with the (relatively) shortish winters on Long Island, and I can be heard complaining bitterly when the temperatures dip below 50 degrees.

Anne's blog, TundraGarden certainly helps me appreciate today's uber windy, 40-degree weather.

The photo above is a shot of what Anne sees from her window today.

With the Great Long Island Tomato Challenge behind me, I now can concentrate on other things I've been wanting to share with you.

When I returned from my once-in-a-lifetime trip to Hawaii in July, I quickly shared instructions I picked up for propagating pineapples. But there's so much more I want to tell you about that part of the world.

You know how when you land at JFK or LaGuardia and step outside to where the taxis are, the first thing you smell is exhaust fumes? To me, it's become synonymous with arriving home. I've inhaled similar air at some other airports across the country, some more odiferous than others. But when we landed at Honolulu International Airport and stepped outside, the first thing I noticed was the strong, sweet smell of Plumeria. The scent was everywhere, and it was intoxicating. Walking the streets was like being in one of those Febreze commercials, where the characters just can't get enough of sniffing their belongings.

While not the official state flower of Hawaii (that would be Hibiscus,) Plumeria can be seen -- or at least smelled -- just about everywhere. At the airport, growing along the side of the road, in home gardens, in front of schools and businesses and, of course, on people: Plumeria is a popular blossom used to make traditional leis and worn in women's hair.

Related to the beautiful but infamously toxic Oleander, Plumeria is one of nature's big charlatans. Its scent strengthens at nightfall in order to lure feeding sphynx moths. While the hungry moths search for nectar, prancing from barren blossom to barren blossom, Plumeria gets pollinated. Meanwhile, the moths leave with empty tummies because Plumeria flowers contain no nectar, they just smell like they do. But take just one whiff and you'll forgive their sneaky underhandedness.

While bringing a live plant onto the mainland is prohibited, I did bring home some packaged cuttings to give as gifts and plenty of scented hand cream, body lotion and candles.

While I was simply enchanted by the flower, it seems many Hawaiians take it for granted. Lois Taylor, formerly of the Honolulu Star-Bulletin once wrote: "Plumerias get very little respect. Hybridize an orchid and you get written up in national journals. Introduce a new ginger and the garden magazines are at your door. Develop a new Plumeria and friends ask what you think of the Bishop Estate. It's because a Plumeria tree is so easy to grow it's the meatloaf of Hawaiian gardening."

Well, I for one am crazy about meatloaf.

Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed of one day visiting our 50th state. Ever since 1972, when I sat on the edge of my seat, three weeks in a row, watching The Brady Bunch's cliffhanging three-part episode -- the one where Greg finds an "ancient" tiki idol, which he believes is responsible for the string of unfortunate events that follow.

I finally made it to Hawaii this summer. I didn't nearly drown, nor did I have any run-ins with tarantulas or Vincent Price. I didn't see any ancient burial grounds like my Brady friends did, but I did get to visit some beautiful gardens. I wore a Plumeria lei, watched my kids surf in the Pacific and said things like "mahalo" and "aloha" whenever the opportunity arose. I attended a luau, took a ukulele lesson, ate Poi, sat on Kailua beach and hiked to the top of Diamond Head, the crater of an inactive volcano. I even learned how to propagate pineapple plants during a visit to the Dole Plantation in Waialua.

It's an unusual process. So simple. And fun for the kids, too.

To get started, cut the leafy crown off the top of an ordinary, store-bought pineapple, keeping the knife blade as close to the crown as possible. Slice off any remaining flesh until you see small dots circling the underside of the crown. Those are the root buds.

Allow it to dry at room temperature -- upside down -- for 7 days. You'll notice the cut end will become hard to the touch.

Strange as it sounds, all you have to do next is place the crown on top of a potful of soil. Twist it in a bit, but don't get any soil in the leaves. The crown and the leaves should stick out of the soil so that it appears you've buried an entire pineapple and left the top inch or so exposed with the leaves attached.

Dole experts recommend using a porous clay pot and lining it with an inch of gravel before filling with a mixture of 70% light soil and 30% compost.

Place in a sunny indoor spot, water every week and fertilize every four months with ordinary houseplant food. In 18-22 months, you'll be eating your own, Long Island house-grown pineapple.

At around 18 months, the plant should sprout a red cone.

Soon afterward, you'll be rewarded with rows of beautiful blue flowers -- the predecessors of fruit. Allow the fruit to remain on the plant for 6 months. When it's rich gold in color, it's time to feast. Your plant will be shot, but you'll have another crown to plant.

TIP: If a red cone doesn't sprout by month 20, Dole recommends coaxing it by placing the entire pot in a sealed plastic bag with a ripe apple and setting it in a dark spot for 3 days. The apple emits ethylene gas, which induces flower production. Remove the plant from the bag and place it back near the window. Look for the cone within 2 months.

Photos from the EPCOT Flower & Garden Show

My entire family has abandoned me for sunnier climes. My sister and her family relocated to Florida in 1990, and my parents followed a few years later. Though John probably would jump at the opportunity to escape the rat race, there are too many things about New York that I couldn’t possibly leave behind. So every year, usually in February, we pile into the mini van and drive the 20 or so grueling hours through eight states – with an obligatory stop at a Cracker Barrel restaurant – to the Sunshine State.

This year, I timed the annual pilgrimage to coincide with the 14th Annual EPCOT International Flower & Garden Festival, a Disney treat that has eluded me in the past because it doesn’t usually coincide with school vacations. Because of the extraordinary number of guests that visit EPCOT solely for the festival, it has been extended to 60 days with the extension tacked on to the beginning of the event and just in time to overlap with our region’s Spring Break.

I hooked up with Eric Darden, the Festival’s horticultural manager, and Heather Wills-Browne, horticultural manager of Walt Disney World Nurseries, Tuesday afternoon for a preview tour of some pretty intense horticulture. I think it’s obvious to any visitor to any WDW theme park, property or event, that the company mantra is probably something like, “Quality or Bust.” Everything from the most luxurious resort down to the humblest snack stand is first rate. The attention to detail is breathtaking, and the EPCOT festival is no exception.

Nearly a full year in the planning, creative renderings for the displays were done last June and then structural engineers set to work creating the topiaries, which weigh between 1,000 and 1,500 pounds apiece. Fabrication happened in September or October, and just last night some 30 workers – electricians, irrigation specialists, gardeners, crane operators and others – set the festival’s focal point in place just inside the EPCOT entry gate.

Beginning on April 5 and until the festival ends on June 3, visitors to EPCOT will be greeted by the realistic pirate ship with multi-hued Peter Pan, Captain Hook and Tinker Bell topiaries on board. And the largest character topiary this year is Pirate Goofy, standing 14 feet tall.

Because the event has begun earlier than usual this year, Disney gardeners have had the opportunity – and the necessity – to experiment with cooler season plants. The vibrant violas, however, won’t be long lived; they will have to be replaced by warmer season plants in two or three weeks.

There are other ‘firsts’ to behold at the festival this year, too. Temporary playgrounds throughout the park are among the first-ever installations anywhere of the revolutionary EVOS play systems. While most jungle gyms are structured, EVOS encourages creative play. You’ll likely be seeing them pop up in school playgrounds over the next few years.
Minnie’s Magnificent Butterfly Garden is enclosed in a revolutionary “Aluminette” fabric. The screening, invented in Israel, allows only the sun’s “good” rays to penetrate, while filtering out harmful ones. The 500 butterflies in the house would be lethargic from the heat and wouldn’t flutter about without it. My guess is that with temperatures being unseasonably warm, even for Florida, visitors wouldn't do much fluttering about without it, either. Immediately upon entering the screen room, I noticed a welcome temperature drop of about ten degrees.

“This is the best time of year to bring kids to EPCOT,” Darden said. “If your kids are four to five years old, they need a place to run around. The play areas are nice and shady.” While kids might need to run around, parents, to be sure, will need to rest. I noticed each play area has mercy benches for mom and dad.

There are other things for mom and dad at the festival, too. The Flower Power concert series will feature thrice-daily shows by stars from the 60s and 70s such as Paul Revere and the Raiders, Herman’s Hermits, Davy Jones, The S.O.S. Band, The Guess Who and Tony Orlando. On Mother’s Day, each mom will receive a flower. And the Art of Outdoor Living Garden offers lots of inspiration for creating an upscale outdoor living area. Every Weekend, visitors will have the opportunity to learn from the pros by attending the Great American Gardeners Series. Paul James of HGTV’s “Gardening by the Yard” will appear April 5-8. Other garden personalities to appear include Patricia Lanza, author of “Lasagna Gardening,” TV and radio personality Gary Alan and renowned wilderness photographer Clyde Butcher. My invitation to appear must have gotten lost in the mail. I’ll be sure to update Disney with my proper mailing address for future events, as I’m sure they’re disappointed.

Throughout the festival (and no doubt in my place) Disney experts will be on hand to share tips and secrets that you can use in your own garden.

I give a lot of credit to the gardeners, who not only worked hard but worked smart, using creative touches throughout the displays like palm fiber for Beauty and her Beast’s hair, dried statice to decorate Pirate Mickey’s black flag, and an air plant called tillandsia to cover Tinker Bell’s wings. Other plant materials used to create and define features of the topiaries include pink and red begonias, dusty miller, palm seeds, ficus and lichen.

After touring the park, which is dressed up with 300,000 bedding plants, 70 topiaries (including the revolving royal couple Cinderella and Prince Charming,) and 30 MILLION blooms in total, I had to wonder where it all would go after all the hoopla has faded. Secretly conspiring to do some dumpster diving, I inquired about the fate of those gorgeous plants at the end of the festival. “They all get composted,” Wills-Browne told me with a straight face. Oh well, most of them wouldn’t grow well on Long Island anyway.

My husband, John, is a huge country music fan. And due to a guilt-by-association anomaly also known by me as "The Yankees Phenomenon," I have become a country music fan, too.

Growing up in Queens, I followed the Mets. My best friend Lisa's family had season tickets to Shea and, being her best friend, I was a frequent guest. To be honest, I never really enjoyed the game, but it was fun to sit out in the sun and throw peanut shells and walk around the stadium and sing during the 7th-inning stretch. We even placed 3rd on Banner Day one year. But I digress.

The point I'm trying to make is that John lives, eats and breathes Yankees. And although I'd always considered myself a Mets fan, twenty years with a diehard Yankees fan has had an impact on me. It was slow and gradual, I suppose, because I didn't realize it was happening. But a few years ago when the Mets were playing the Yankees in a high-profile Subway Series, I underwent a bit of self-discovery: I found myself wearing a Derek Jeter shirt and rooting for the Yankees. When did this happen? And how? Why? Was it peer pressure? Am I that weak? I can't answer any of those questions, but I do know that now I'm more comfortable in the Bronx than in Queens.

Since I've taken to country music, we've traveled to Buffalo just to see a Kenny Chesney concert. We've seen Toby Keith at the Meadowlands and Keith Urban at the Beacon. Then, last year we made a family pilgrimage to Austin, Tx.

This past Valentine's Day, John and I went to Nashville. Expecting only to take in a show at the Grand ol' Opry (which we did,) eat real southern BBQ (ditto) and sit in a honky tonk (where we met Larry the Cable Guy sitting at the bar!), I didn't know I'd be in for a pleasant surprise: I landed in a gardener's paradise.

Our hotel, The Gaylord Opryland, was a veritable indoor city of sorts. Encompassing nine acres, the entire resort is under a series of glass atriums. Three levels of winding paths take visitors past restaurants and shops, around a river that hosts a scenic Delta flatboat ride and through gardens. And no ordinary gardens, these! They are home to more than 50,000 plants, many of them rare and from other parts of the world.

The scenery within Opryland is nothing short of breathtaking. What I found particularly clever is that because the atriums are climate controlled -- maintained at a steady 68 - 72 degrees with 35 % relative humidity year-round -- pretty much anything can bloom at any time. Springtime hyacinths surround early summer roses against a backdrop of asters and mums, which only make an appearance in our parts during autumn. Bromeliads, which Long Islanders think of as house plants, lined quaint pathways, while a coffee tree sporting clusters of beans in various stages of ripeness welcomed passersby. At one end of the river a lone lemon tree stood watch behind a 44-foot cascading waterfall, weighed down by fragrant yellow fruit. And dozens of potted cyclamens hung from lampposts and surrounded the revolving Cascades lounge, where I enjoyed a Mojito or two.


With an annual budget of ONE MILLION DOLLARS for plant materials and labor, Opryland employs 15 full-time indoor horticulturists, each assigned to one of three atriums housing the gardens. Affectionately referred to as "ninjas" by the other employees because they manage to maintain the grounds impeccably but seldom are seen, the gardeners can arrange their charges according to their own visions.


I was lucky enough to catch one such ninja, Kristi Holt, in the act. She meticulously grooms the gardens in the Cascades Atrium under horticulture manager Hollis Malone, keeping them weed-free, swapping out nearly spent blossoms for just-ready-to-bloom ones and constantly adding new color and interest in beds along the bench-lined pathways.

Let's Play a Game

These are four of my favorite plants from Opryland. Can you name them? The legal suits won't let me have a contest, but I can promise to give you credit for naming all four correctly. They're numbered from one to four (top left is #1, top right, #2; bottom left is #3, bottom right, #4.) Shoot me an email with your entry and I'll post the correct ones here.

UPDATE: 3/28/07 -- Click continue for the answers.

I just returned from 8 rainy days in Washington state, where we were visiting my sisters-in-law for Thanksgiving. The landscape where they live in the capital of Olympia is gorgeous -- when viewed from the warmth and dryness of my car seat -- accentuated with masses of majestic Douglas Fir mini-forests. We had a lovely visit, to be sure, but the precipitation I could do without.

Not only was the weather gloomy and miserable (I now understand why Seattle is the reputed suicide capital of the country, and why it's where grunge music took root back in the '90s,) but the odd thing is the locals don't seem to care. Here's a sample conversation that took place on a particularly rainy afternoon:

Sister-in-Law One: "Hey, you wanna go check out the waterfront property we recently bought?"

Me: "But it's raining."

Sister-in-Law Two: "Aw, come on. You're such a city girl."

Me: "Um. O.K."

So we drive in TORRENTIAL RAIN to the muddy lot on Puget Sound. Breathtaking view of the snow-capped Mt. Rainier in the distance. Looks nice.

Sister-in-Law One: "Come on, let's walk around."

Me: "But it's raining."

Sister-in-Law Two: "Aw, come on. You're such a city girl."

In about three and a half minutes, I had walked the property. With no umbrella and cold, wet, muddy feet, I grabbed my youngest daughter (who was wet and whining about her new sneakers getting ruined,) and headed back to the car, fully aware that no one was following me.

Sister-in-Law One: "But don't you want to see the view from the other side?"

Me: "But it's raining."

Sister-in-Law Two: "Aw, come on. You're such a city girl."

And so it went, for the better part of the week, with me being the butt of jokes for not wanting to hike to the river or climb the mountain in the rain. I suppose if I lived where it rained for four months out of the year, I'd probably have to suck it up and go out, too. But I don't. To me, a rainy day means pajamas, a good book and a cup of tea.

I guess I am a city girl, even if I do live on Long Island.

Washingtonians may have one-upped me in the rain tolerance-department. But they can't hold a candle to New Yorkers when it comes to snow management. On our way to the airport Monday night for what should have been a 45 minute ride, we sat on the gridlocked Interstate 5 for SIX HOURS. Traffic literally was not moving. At all. It looked like a scene from one of those end-of-the-world disaster movies, where everyone in town is trying to flee and no one is getting anywhere. Cars were abandoned, a double-length bus was jackknifed, a tractor-trailer abandoned. We even saw a van full of senior citizens that had been evacuated by the fire department. People were walking on the interstate, gas cans in tow. I even got out and snapped a few pictures.

What was the problem, you ask? A quarter inch of snow. Go back and read that again. No, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you. In all fairness, there was black ice under the snow. But even so, having spent my entire life either as a passenger or a driver on the Long Island Expressway, you'd think I would have seen it all. I have never encountered such traffic.

We never did make it to the airport that night. When we finally reached an exit (at about 1 a.m.,) and made it to a gas station, we had to wait on a long line, and two of the pumps were out of gas. The porta-potty my daughter so desperately needed to use was padlocked. When we found a convenience store, the restroom lines were long, filled with folks who, like us, hadn't been able to reach the airport and with NFL jersey-attired fans who were trying to make it home from the Monday night football game.

We even saw a bearded lady. With Italian blood running through my veins, I've had the unfortunate experience of tweezing a stray chin hair here and there. That's not what I'm talking about. This lady had a full goatee. In fact, I wasn't completely sure she was a lady until she actually went into the ladies room ahead of us.

It was like being in a Twin Peaks episode.

On the plus side, when I returned my geraniums were still blooming. And beautifully. It's good to be home.