I'm such a dork.

During my last two visits to my hometown I've been tested. I'm really getting to know the midwestern plants well, but when I'm in southern california it's like a different language. I have trouble identifying half of what I see, despite having grown up there. I didn't commit to loving my garden until I was in my mid-twenties, and already living in Wisconsin. I did my homework this trip, and felt better. My identification had improved, and my tastes had changed. I now found an appreciation for the arid climate staples, the cacti, succulents, palms, ferns, and many plants I must treat as annuals that are growing as larger perennials there.

While working in my grandmother's garden I snagged a few divisions of clivia. I also took what I think is going to be an amarylis. She has boston ferns growing wild in her backyard, so I dug one up also. From my mom's yard I brought home my long beloved orange bougainvillea, which is now blooming in my bedroom window--where it will spend the winter.

Of all the gardeners in the family, the least obsessed is my aunt Hannele. When I arrived at her house for a party she asked me to prune her roses. I gladly took the pruning sheers and set to work. I also admired her bird of paradise, agave, echeveria, money plants, and aloe... and she promptly sent me home with pieces of each. She snapped a few pictures of me taking a division of this bird of paradise. I imagine mine will take a long time to blooms. But, I'm patient.

I put all the plants I was bringing home in the one pot with the bougainvillea, smooshed as can be, but well watered, and covered with a fleece blanket for our two day card ride, so my son sitting just a foot away would not fuss with the plants. So far, everything is alive. Not bad...