Well, she's more than 80 years old and she's been poking around online at some pretty objectionable sites [like this one]! Mother Badger e-mailed to tell me about bromeliads after reading my earlier post. "It will only bloom once, but now you will get a pup," she wrote. "Hmmmm . . . ," thought I. For I am not overly fond of dogs. Oh, reader, come on! I know a pup means a new, young plant. It's the same in cactus talk. MB went on to say that when she visited Youngest Badger in Panama, they went up into the mountains where the bromeliads were spectacular. The indigenous peoples offered them for sale, but she could not bring them back into the U.S. She also told me how to root the top of a pineapple to get it to throw a pup and then grow a new pineapple. And she had a sharp school teacherish remark for me to aim at the felonious Dylan and Virginia Woolf. Was I surprised Mother Badger knew a lot about a pretty esoteric subject? Not a bit! MB knows a lot about a lot of things, and especially about plants of all manner.Now my interest was piqued about these bromeliads! Remember, I bought myself the original plant so I could nurture and enjoy it. I like to surround myself with things that are beautiful (to me) and observe what they do, how they proceed through life ~ my cats, my birds, my fish, my plants, the people I love. And if this pink wonder was now going to put on some kind of a show, like produce a pup, I wanted to learn more. I can Google! As two men who know me and care about me say, "You know how to learn stuff, Les/Lezzlie."
I noodled around and soon knew the name of my bromeliad species and learned that they are easily cultivated. That was my impression, for I'd cajoled mine into producing flowers already! I learned that they're easily propagated indoors and that made my eyes dance ~ more plants for free. I can reproduce them and give them away to those I care for! I learned there were nearly countless species, flowering in every color in the rainbow. That charms me! David has offered many times to have Troy put up a row of shelves in the office for me ~ I can house a veritable herd of bromeliads, here in the pasture safe from felonious felines. Fresh & Easy has countless new offerings each week, and this seems a fun new interest to explore.
I learned other things about bromeliads, some of which made me a little pensive. They bloom according to all kinds of triggers - plant age, day length, light intensity, water and temperature. I learned that once they bloom, the death process begins, taking a year or two. And that made me ponder. To begin to die off at the peak of one's beauty . . . . I learned that she (for now bromeliads are she's to me) will now produce pups until she dies. My duty is to remove those pups from her as they develop and put them in growing medium so they may become beautiful, mature girls in their own right. To remove them, I must use a serrated knife or pruning shears or a small hacksaw blade, and the reader should be very afraid of that. Learning about this life cycle made me very mindful of the beginnings and endings of things here on planet earth and the legacy some of us leave behind.
It promised to be a hideous, rainy cycling race weekend and it was. I planned to increase my walking miles to work off nervous energy. I love to feed people I care about, good nourishing food. This time was no different. I bought, I planned. I packed good Egyptian, long staple cotton towels to dry a cold and rain-soaked racer and thought about how I could offer support. I fed, I held umbrellas, I snapped the camera, I drove for miles at his back wheel. That doesn't make me a heroine. It means I'm loyal like a cocker spaniel. It means I can participate meaningfully in a detailed routine. I observed a woman racer take a bad crash and not get up from it. I watched the medics come and then a full-on ambulance. Before the helicopter came, a young man asked if I had a blanket or anything because she had been on the ground a long time and she was cold and wet. I glanced at my good pea coat and I couldn't do it. There was a car cover, but it was huge and soiled and not mine to give away. I gave my good Egyptian, long staple cotton towels. Seeing this woman take such a surprise in her sprint finish (for the finish line wasn't 100 feet away) made me very mindful of the beginnings and endings of things here on planet earth. Life is what happens when you're busy making plans.
I bought a new variety of bromeliad and she puts me in mind of shooting flame. Oh, what a treat to the eyes! It needed water before I put it into the closet to await transport to the office. I put the water down in the center "cup" and figured I'd give her just a minute or so to drink it. Those cats were nowhere in sight, I swear. I hung up my coat and purse and went to retrieve the plant. It had been on the drainboard maybe 90 seconds, literally. Clicking on the photo will reveal the shredded leaves. Chomped! I never saw them in the vicinity, but they got it good! And, yes, I do use the pink, LED light flashing, chinka-chinka noise-making hula hoop (in the background) for exercise in the office. But never when homes are around. One doesn't want to ruin them for life.
In my ears right now: It's an old friend, musically. Precious Stones. I haven't listened in a long time.
Something that charmed me: When I returned to work to start a new week and a new month, my original bromeliad had become a Mouseketeer and was flying her colors. It looks like I'm going to get a bloom from in between each of her tight grooves before she starts that dying off thing I don't care for!
