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Bloodroot is one of the first wildflowers to pop up and bloom in spring. With it’s starched white blossoms and golden stamen, it’s easy to spot in the still brown woods.

Bloodroot has an interesting protection system. Until the blossom has been pollinated, the leaf stays curled around the flowering stem, offering extra protection from cold or insects. I’ve never thought to be envious of bloodroot before, but I have to say that the thought of being cocooned by something protecting me from the outside world sounds very appealing these days!

Once the blossom has been pollinated, the leaf unfurls and begins to grow and will continue to do so until mid – summer, when it can be 5 – 6 inches across. The seeds are surrounded by a substance called elaiosome, a rather slimy substance which ants love much more than the seeds themselves, which they just discard. As the ants often will travel a bit of a distance before spitting out the seed, they serve as a very effective mechanism for dispersing the seeds.

Bloodroot received its name from the bright red sap found in the stem and root. Even though the sap was used (sparingly) as medicine by both American Indians and pioneers, it is quite toxic and should not be taken internally.

For a while there was great hope that active alkaloids within bloodroot could be used in modern medicines to fight cancer and other diseases. At one time it was included in toothpaste and mouthwash to help fight plaque but this was discontinued when it became clear that it was doing much more harm than good.

American Indians used the sap from the plant, mixed with bear or other animal fat, as a dye for coloring baskets and blankets, or as war paint. It is still used as a natural dye but by far the best use of the plant is to raise your spirits with the knowledge that spring is here again after a long, wet winter.

I hope that you are all taking care of yourselves and staying safe in the midst of all this craziness. If nothing else, go out and enjoy the sunshine and look for the little bloodroot in the still-brown leaves. It is guaranteed to make you feel better.

Though her real name was Zilpah, we always called my father’s sister Aunt Zip. She was about as different from my father as you could imagine. Dad was calm and steady with mathematician’s mind. She was…not. She was short and plump with (usually) red hair, always wore dresses that were (usually) pink. She loved to write, especially poetry and I am absolutely convinced that if she were living now, she’d LOVE Facebook and she’d be writing a weekly, if not daily, blog.

She had no children and was single for most of her life, marrying late and often. Once she had a taste of marriage, she must have liked it because she tried it several times, losing husbands to both death and divorce.

During our growing up years, she was single and lived in an old brick, two story apartment building on Briarcliff Road in Decatur, Georgia. Her apartment was upstairs, heated with old clanky radiators with all the accoutrements of a spinster; lace doilies on the dresser, her “Mama’s” silver coffee set, carefully polished every week, photos of the family everywhere and her collection of African violets under grow – lights near the windows.

I love all plants. I really do. I just think that some are worth more trouble than others. And African violets, for me, are just not worth the effort. But, I learned one of my first gardening lessons with Aunt Zip and her African violets. I learned that you had to be “very careful” not to get water on the leaves, that they needed to be precisely the right distance from the light, to be at the right temperature, to be fed just the right amount of fertilizer. I almost gave up gardening before I got started but once I learned you could toss some plants in the ground outside and let Nature take over, I was sold.

I actually have an African violet plant that someone gave to me years ago. It’s crammed into my window greenhouse with the other porch plants, waiting until it’s warm enough to go outside again. I don’t give it any special attention. And sure enough, it doesn’t actually look that good and it hasn’t bloomed for years. So, why do I still have it?

Because it reminds me of Aunt Zip and I think about her almost every time I look at my poor little African violet. As I dump water over it, including the leaves, and put it back into its corner, I can hear her careful instructions in my mind. They were like children for her and even though at the time, I thought that was silly, now, so many years later I understand it a little better. It doesn’t matter what you look after and care for, be it a dog, a child or an African violet, the most important thing is that you love something. And Aunt Zip loved her African violets. God bless her.

The magic of a geode is that you’re never quite sure what you’re going to get when you open it up. What looks like just a plain old rock on the outside may be nothing more than a plain old rock on the inside OR it could be stunningly beautiful, colored crystals that seem to have appeared by magic.

You just never can tell about things that look ordinary on the outside. For example…..Ellie (almost 10) had a day off from school (teacher workday) and since I’m on the First Responder list of babysitters, my daughter called and asked if Ellie could spend the day with me. Of course I said of course. It doesn’t matter what I had planned or what I needed to do, I’m well aware that these days with grandchildren are fleeting so I was happy to set aside everything to spend a “plain old” day with Ellie.

Only Ellie had plans and an agenda. She wanted to bake a geode cake that she had seen on some show or some site or something. It’ll be simple, she assured me, you just bake cakes, pile them on top of each other, ice them , cut out a slice and make it look like a geode. Right. Her idea of simple and mine are not even close.

But, I’m game so we began by making an all-organic, from scratch yellow cake. We cut parchment for the pans, dusted them with flour, blended everything perfectly and divided the batter into thirds so we’d have 3 layers. And they came out really, really well. And really thin. No question about it, we needed more cake. By this time our “from scratch” enthusiasm was wearing a little thin so we went to the store, forked out $1.75 for a cake mix and came back and threw it together.

While the cakes were cooling, I took a look at the site or show or whatever and realized that we were missing a few ingredients. So off we went again, to Michaels to get roll out fondant($$), to Party City to get rock candy ($$$), back to the grocery to get icing ($).

Back home, the cakes were nice and cool so she began stacking, putting a thin layer of icing between the layers. But when you have four layers, it uses up a lot of icing. Back to the grocery for more. ($)

Once the cake was iced, we looked at the box of fondant and tried to figure out how in the world it was supposed to cover our cake. I’ve baked a lot but I’ve never used fondant before. But, in for a penny, in for…..well, the cost of this venture was increasing hourly. I rolled it out super thin, then rolled it up on the rolling pin to transfer it to the cake. Which was fine but no one told us that fondant sticks to itself so part of it kind of tore and it wasn’t big enough to cover the back and….well, we were just “creative” in making it all work.

Ellie set out to make it look like a geode. She cut out a big slice, dabbed in more icing and stuck in two different colors of rock candy, edged with gold. Oh, did I mention buying the edible gold powder ($$$). I just let her do the decorating part all by herself.

But, and by this point you may not believe me, but it worked!!!!! It was amazing and beautiful and we did it and it took all day and a stupid amount of money but it doesn’t matter because we had a blast and Ellie had a dream and we made it happen.

So, when I broke open this plain old day babysitting with Ellie, I found magic. I’m so lucky. But, I do know why Mother Nature takes so long to form a geode, those suckers are a lot of work!

One of the funniest movie scenes I’ve ever watched is in UP! when a pack of dogs sees a squirrel and Dug the talking dog yells “Squirrel!!!” and bedlam ensues. My own dog, Sadie, doesn’t have a pack to back her up but she pretty much reacts the same way. Which means there’s a lot of bedlam at my house because there are A LOT of squirrels.

One of our favorite spectator sports is to watch squirrels try to get food out of a (very effective) squirrel proof bird feeder. The motorized perch is triggered by weight so if anything heavier than a song bird (read Squirrel!!) tries to get on it, it spins pretty quickly. We have yet to watch a squirrel hang on and spin around like a top and get flung half-way across the yard like they do in the very funny videos but we keep hoping.

You may like these fuzzy little varmints but they have lost their appeal to me. They eat everything! I had all kinds of lovelies on my front porch this past summer and they all but destroyed many of them. Such as Christmas cactus!? They even ate the thick, tough leaves of my orchids. (Did you know that a squirrel’s teeth never stop growing?)

I kept up a running battle with them as they dug up the planter boxes on the porch. Every morning I would sweep up scattered potting soil and the dug up plants and patiently replant everything until I got impatient with being patient. The solution came in the form of chicken wire, which I put over all the planter boxes, cutting holes for the flowers to grow through. So far so good with that one.

I used to grow kale. I used to grow so much kale that instead of asking what we were going to have for dinner, my husband began asking what we were going to have with the kale for dinner. But then the squirrels found my kale plants and ate them to a nub. The next year I planted Swiss chard, which they didn’t seem to like. For a while. And then one morning I walked out to find chard nubs. So now Jack is back to asking what we’re going to have for dinner.

I know everything has a role in the Bigger Picture and that everything deserves their own space and their own life. But does that include everything?? Even Squirrels!!!! Every time I think about it, bedlam ensues.

With love in the air and Valentine’s Day coming up, it seemed a good time to talk about Love in the Garden and to tell about what happened to Bachelor Button and Black-eyed Susan. Enjoy!

Happy Valentine’s Day to you all!!

Rosemary is queen of the herb garden – and has been for millennia. The first mention of this pungent herb was on Egyptian stone tablets dating back to 5000 BC. Today, Rosemary has a seemingly endless number of “babies” or different cultivars developed from this ancient plant.

Actually all rosemaries can be grouped into two types, either upright and shrub-like or prostrate and crawling. Their blossom colors vary from blue to white, pink and lavender. Some varieties are best for cooking while others are better off to stay in the garden.

The name rosemary actually has nothing to do with roses – or girls named Mary. Instead, it’s from the Latin words ros and marinus meaning “dew of the sea.” A few years ago it was renamed Salvia rosmarinus. Formerly, it was known as Rosmarinus officinalis.

Superstitions about rosemary abound. For example, if you braid sprigs of rosemary into your hair, it will help your memory. It was also thought to have great powers of protection and would guard you against evil spirits. If you put rosemary under your pillow, it will help you have good dreams.

Most people use rosemary more for flavoring that for guarding against evil spirits. Because it’s mostly evergreen, it’s useful year round. Try adding a sprig of rosemary to the coals 15 minutes before grilling, or adding minced rosemary to softened butter or use it when cooking chicken or pork. Or, add a bit of rosemary to savory bread dough and bake it in.

Rosemary is easy to grow and is drought tolerant, making it extra welcomed in these days of sporadic rainfall. Once a plant is growing well, lateral branches that are touching the ground tend to send out roots. If you cut these newly rooted sprouts from the mother plant and allow them to grow on their own, you’ll soon have Rosemary’s babies all over the place.

One more superstition about rosemary: if rosemary grows abundantly in a garden, it means that the woman rules the household. Now I understand why rosemary is the only shrub that Jack prunes regularly!

I usually don’t like a show off but when it comes to the brilliant red cardinal who offers a streak of color in the drab winter garden, I’m all for it!

Cherokee Indians believe that the cardinal is the daughter (or son) of the sun. They have a charming legend about how this bird came to be so brilliantly colored. A long time ago cardinals were a dull brown color but one day the male cardinal found a magic pool of bright red. He jumped in, being careful not to get any around his mouth, and swam around until he was brilliantly colored. By the time he thought to call his mate, almost all the red was gone. There was only enough left for her to splash some on her chest, bill, wings and crest.

Cardinals tend to mate for life and will hang around the same general area, raising several broods during each breeding season. The males tend to be territorial and during mating / baby rearing season will aggressively fight off other birds.

Cardinals are avid feeders and will frequent a bird feeder as long as you supply seeds (especially sunflower seeds.)

These birds are so popular that they’ve been chosen as the mascot for numerous ball teams (think baseball in St. Louis) and were chosen by seven different states as the state bird (KY, IL, IN, NC, OH, VA and WV).

The bird was named for the cardinals in the church who wear robes of the same brilliant red. The word cardinal actually comes from the Latin word, cardo, meaning “hinge” because so many decisions in the church hinged on the decisions of the cardinals (the people, not the birds).

Superstition contends that if you see a cardinal flying toward the sky, you’ll have good luck but if he’s flying toward the ground, your luck will fail. This is one superstition that I don’t believe in at all, for to me, anytime you see a cardinal flying through the air – up or down!- you’ve had a piece of good luck.

Last week when I was waxing poetic about dandelions I spent a good deal of time poking around the garden. I can’t say that it’s exactly exuberant right now but I was surprised at how prolific winter weeds can be!

In addition to mouse – eared chickweed, which seems to be happily growing in huge masses, wild onions are popping up everywhere. Where did they all come from? It seems that no matter how diligent I am in carefully digging up the smelly little bulbs each year, there are always more and more to contend with.

I always think, though, how grateful I would be for these bulbs if I was lost and starving in the wilderness and had nothing else to eat. (Actually, the bulbs are said to be better during the second growing season but I don’t plan to be lost in the wilderness that long.) Though not many animals eat the leaves, because they are so acrid, bears, squirrels, and marmots love to dig for the bulbs.

In the Midwest, there is a wild onion called a “skunk egg,” presumably because it smells so bad. It is harvested and baked into a stew called “SOB stew.”

Maybe the most famous wild onion is Allium tricoccum , wild leek or “ramp” as they’re called in the south, especially in Appalachian regions. Ramps are so popular that they are heavily over – harvested now. Nevertheless, many Appalachian communities still host Ramp Festivals in spring where you can buy delicacies such as ramp jelly or pickled ramps.

Native Americans not only used the leaves of wild onion for flavoring but also crushed them to make a salve used to soothe insect and bee stings (another thing to remember if you’re lost in the wilderness!)

In the Great Lakes region, native peoples considered wild onions to be an important food staple. Their name for it was “checagou,” which many people believe was the origin for the city name, Chicago.

Hopefully none of us will need to survive on wild onions, though isn’t it a comfort to know you could! It’s enough to make you cry. Or maybe it’s just smelling all those onions.

Though the weather outside might be frightful, there are still flowers pushing the season and popping up all over the place. One of the earliest weeds (or wildflowers, depending on your point of view!) to appear is the bright yellow dandelion.

Years ago, my mother and I were traveling through New England in early spring and came upon a field of these cheerful little flowers. We stopped to admire them but when my mother realized that they were dandelions, she sniffed and said, “they would be pretty if they weren’t so common!”

Apparently this is a universal attitude. My good friend, Dr. David Bosshardt wrote to tell me that when he was traveling in Switzerland, looking for his great grandmother’s ancestral home a few years ago, he had a similar experience. He wrote: “All of the pasture land in and around Durrenroth was unbelievably bright yellow the week we were there.  It was so beautiful, it almost had a fairyland appearance.  These yellow waves were set in a sea of a deep green grass.

“I asked one of the farmers what all the yellow flowers were and why they were so dense.  He told me they were Lowenahn.  The translation of this is Tooth of the Lion in English. He seemed to have some contempt for something that grew so prolifically. Though he acknowledged their beauty, he clearly thought that they were more of a pest. “

Of course “tooth of the lion” is dent de lion in French – and dandelion in English. This name or its equivalent is used in every country where the plant grows and is descriptive of the toothed margins of the leaves. The more sunlight the plant receives, the more “teeth” the leaves have.

Dandelion leaves, particularly early in the season are delicious and good for you. High in vitamins A and C, the leaves have been eaten and enjoyed for many centuries. A Dutch legend contends that if you eat dandelion leaves on Mondays and Thursdays, you’ll always stay healthy!

Dandelions are native to Europe, where they are often cultivated as a salad green. The leaves, sweetest in early spring, can be eaten raw or cooked like spinach.

Dandelions form a seed head that has proven to be irresistible to children everywhere. Pick a fully developed seed head with seeds attached to silky parachutes, make a wish and blow on it. If all the seeds blow off, your wish will come true. (If not, just pick another and try again.)

Yes, they’re pests and yes, they’re common as dirt, but how can you resist the cheerful appearance of these bright yellow faces, particularly in mid winter when so much else looks drab and brown? Just enjoy them for what they are – a welcomed ray of sunshine.

There’s no such thing as a black thumb. Everyone can grow something! Of course when neglect is coupled with indifference, the results can be a little disheartening but the will to live in the plant world is nothing short of miraculous.

You see this in nature all the time. Trees grow in the cracks of a wall. Prickly Pear Cactus withstands temperatures that range from minus 50 in Canada to over 100 degrees F. in Mexico. Fireweed bursts forth in bloom after wildfires devastate a forest. No doubt about it, plants have a will to live that is awe inspiring.

I’m the first to admit that this Life Overdrive can sometimes be a little overwhelming. Look at an acre of kudzu and it’ll remind you of an Alfred Hictchcock movie. Try to keep weeds and moss from growing between the cracks of a stone pathway and you’ll have a never ending job on your hands.

Even inside, my houseplants show true grit in the face of an uncomfortably dry and warm environment. My mother’s aloe plant that I took when she died 13 years ago has grown so much that I’ve divided, replanted and given it away a dozen times. The cute little Norfolk Island Pine that I bought as a miniature table top Christmas tree four years ago is now taller than I am and presents a logistical terror as Jack and I haul that thing out in the summer then back indoors in the winter.

Plants, like people, show endless variation and have an infinite variety of growing needs. But most plants, like most people, really only have a few basic needs; a little bit of soil with enough nutrients to grow, light and water. That pretty much covers it in nature. Interrupt the natural cycle, though, by cultivating a plant in the garden or bringing it indoors and it’s now YOUR responsibility and you’ll need to add one more thing to the list: a little love and attention.

Shower your plants with love and attention, give them what they need to develop a good foundation, give them water when they’re thirsty and food when they’re hungry and sit back to watch them thrive. They will undoubtedly pay you back many times over with beauty and abundance.

P.S. This works with people too. Love to you all………