Christmas Green, Sprinkled with Red

I am a wrapping paper reuser - my gifts are unwrapped carefully and deliberately - I slide my finger under the seams, carefully through the tape, the packages removed, paper straightened and smoothed, and then re-rolled for later use.  Sometimes, when the paper is super wrinkly and crinkled, then the stops come out and the paper gets torn into, and then recycled afterward.  I am a Bert, less an Ernie (see Ernie and Bert's "Gift of the Magi" from "Christmas Eve on Sesame Street" - about 4:25 in), but I do love Ernie.  It's cheapness, but also greenness.  And it's a family trait, at least with the holiday gift wrapping.

Reused gift wrap, ribbons, and labels.

We also reuse our labels.  And I turn cards that my parents and I receive into holiday postcards.  I reuse the same boxes year after year. 

Reused boxes, and more ribbon and labels.

And this year, I raided the post-Christmas sales to buy Christmas fabric, and I am going to transition away from paper altogether - it's something I've thought about doing for years; now it's done - Mumsicle will have one pattern, Popsicle one, Sissy one, and LilBro one.  Perfect - can't wait for next year :)

And, since there was time on Christmas day (the luxury of free time), I attempted a bouche noelle - well, that was the original goal (inspired by "The Kitchen").  But I waited too long to roll, and the cake wasn't quite thin enough (maybe next time more liquid?) so instead it became a three layer chocolate cake loaf - boxed devil's food cake mix, with puréed black beans instead of the usual oil and eggs, with avocado frosting - a la Joy Bauer, although my avocado frosting was an Alton Brown similar recipe, without the lemon extract and only half as much confectioner's sugar (because I was raised on the desserts of a French/Vietnamese palate, not quite so tooth achingly sweet as American desserts), because it was the easiest one to find, even though I first saw avocado frosting on the Today Show with Joy.  Vanilla extract might have helped, though.  Anyway, I've been wanting to try it. 

Cake experiment - on my day off.

Not the prettiest dessert ever, but the cake part worked quite well - barely beany, and oh so much protein!  Plenty sweet as it was.  The frosting was fine - might have been more chocolatey had I had cocoa powder, and might have helped with some instant espresso, and avocados that were actually ripe, and maybe some vanilla extract.  Not the prettiest ever, but it was ok.  The cherries were just Christmas décor - not in season or very tasty.  Next time, maybe the acid that preserves the avocados will be orange juice, so orange zest can go in (and maybe in the cake too - to make the batter more liquidy and pliable?) - orange and chocolate have always played well together.  And if there are clementine segments as decoration, that would work beautifully.  Less bouche noelle, but it might be nice.  Overall, a good first try at a greener (avocado! vegan!) yule log cake.

The three day weekend was much needed.  Sometimes the mind and soul need a rest.

In the days before, there were other holiday rituals, including my absolute favorite - caroling and the tree lighting in Carl Schurz Park.

Carolers, and neighbors.

Our tree.

A little ladybug, still clinging on in early December.

Tree pit holiday greenery.

Holiday-lit trees.

Blanking the Slate

New York City today reached the unseasonably high temperature of 57 degrees or so.  Positively balmy.  That called for seizing the day with a morning run - a way to clear the mind of the stresses of work, a way to counterbalance the caloric intake of the holidays.

The relatively warm temperatures also beckoned a jaunt out onto the terrace - to check out the loud noises that begin at 7 am on some days.  The unmistakable sound of construction and development.  And here is what I spied...

Wider angle.

Closer in.

The cluster of three buildings caddy-corner from my terrace is almost completely demolished and gone - a virtual blank slate for them to start from.  That happened quickly, I suppose, after a very long spell of nothing happening at all.  Seems the Brearley girls will soon get their new "campus" building.  I only hope it will be modest and unassuming, and block as little of the light and air as is possible.

Invasion of the Spider Mites

Nasty teeny tiny little things.  They have settled in on the leaves of the Thai lime, and now, clearly, the mandavilla as well.  Need to figure out how to banish them.  I am starting here.

On one of the mandavillas.

On the Thai lime.

They are a bit difficult to capture photographically, but their fine webs can just be made out... very hard to capture them photographically; it is slightly easier, actually, when it is dark and the flash is used.  Perhaps if I had a better camera with some setting better than the little "close-up" flower icon function, they would be more visible.  But visible or not, they are wreaking havoc.

Of course it makes sense - the poor plants went from being outdoors and in the full elements to indoors and the relatively drier home environs.  So the stupid little mites proliferate.  Maybe if I can manage to water the plants more frequently, the environment will be less hospitable to them.  But it's a catch 22 - we're talking mandavillas and Thai lime - tropical plants.  I could not have left them out there to fend for themselves; they would not have survived.  I will just have to care for them better, and wipe them down more.

Hopefully it will stem the loss of leaves.  One of the mandavillas looks like it's lost the vast majority of its leaves.  I can only hope there is enough vigor for them to come back.  Poor little plants.

Trapped on a Terrace (Nearly)

It is said that no good deed goes unpunished.  There may be some truth to that....

My next door neighbor is a lovely woman - Ms. V, a few years retired from the UN.  She spends her winters in her home country, Malaysia.  I collect her mail - in return, I get the catalogs that will be outdated by the time she returns in spring, and her print versions of The New Yorker and of The Economist, which she accesses online while she is abroad.  And I water her one houseplant (she is a minimalist, at least as compared to me) - it is a coddled evergreen of some variety (it gets a constant stream of Miracle Gro: she is also apparently not yet a convert to organic gardening); in return, I get a little escape from my messy abode, overtaken by Sissy's styling props, and Sissy herself, and from the ten or so permanent botanic residents and the, now, four or so seasonally resident ones, and to satiate my New York City-typical nosiness about real estate and how other folks live, to indulge in my fantasy of alternate spaces.

So, having not tended to the mail or the poor plant in over a week, today was the day, before work - a quick little errand, or so I thought.  And particularly as she was to have a guest, the first of two back to back guests, arrive this evening.  Best to get the mail over to her place (and out of mine), and to ensure the plant was hydrated, lest it go the next week or so whilst the guests are here feeling neglected.

In leggings and a light sweatshirt, downstairs I went for the mail, and picked up mine at the same time.  Ran into an 11th floor neighbor bundled up and on her way out to walk her small/medium dog, Bailey (notably sans coat, on this very, very frigid day - she had forgotten, and was reminded when I commented on the low outside temperature, and then apologized aloud to Bailey for the omission).  Back upstairs, and I let myself into Ms. V's apartment with the spare set of keys, closed the door, as I had done many times before.  Went to water the coddled evergreen to allow the water to make its way through while I sorted the mail.  Returned to sort mail, realized that Ms. V's prior guest had left a note for me and Sissy on the dining table that I had never read; had just assumed it was for Ms. V.  Added the new mail to the mail collecting in the bag I had left there, noting that a new bag will be needed soon to contain the mail yet to come.  Went back to check coddled evergreen, gave it a bit more water, saw the excess trickle out the catch dish at the bottom.  Meandered over to the window to check how the outdoor plants looked - dead - including the cardinal vine I had surreptitiously planted two years prior, and the cheap trellis of bamboo canes I had made for it to climb; the vine now comes back yearly.  And then I got ready to grab my mail and head out, to shower, to head into the office for my 10:15 conference call.

But the knob of the front door turned only a smidge, and I could not get out.  I tugged, tugged some more.  A prior guest had at one point complained of difficulty with the knob.  Last year it was the opposite problem - the knob spun and spun, having been practically stripped, it felt like.  Now it barely turned at all.  Ok, well, I got in - just needed someone on the other side to help with this; perhaps the super.  But, alas, I had not thought to bring my phone.  Despite Sissy's many admonishments to always carry my phone (she once got stuck in the elevator of her friend's building, and only saved herself by calling her friend, who got her super and the elevator mechanic).  But I tend not to carry mine, because my reception is so poor in the central common area, so what would be the point in the elevator.  Well, there I was in Ms. V's apartment, trapped, with no phone.  And had I brought it, it was close to zero battery when I left.  Not so good.  No way to call for help, to tell the boss I would run late for the conference call....  But I spied Ms. V's landline - and thought I'd dial Sissy (who had left for a job) to call the temporary super.  I got the phone and dialed - Ms. V had temporarily shut off the line, but the recorded operator told me I could hang up and make emergency calls.  Great.

Next move, I went out to the terrace to call next door in hopes my caddy-corner neighbor, Mr. B, would be around.  He had mentioned recently working from home more often.  My calls went to no avail.  Back in, and to the door - would a porter come by to take the recycling?  No.  Back out, called again to Mr. B, to no avail.  Called down to the eleventh floor neighbors, to no avail.  Looked over the railing in hopes Bailey and his human mom might come back - nope.  Considered starting to call to random strangers on the sidewalk, but had some concern they might think me crazy.  Hoped to spy someone entering the building, or a building staff member working downstairs - but it wasn't trash day, and far too frigid to have to water the plant beds out front.  Somehow, in my leggings and light hoodie, I managed to not freeze during all this time on Ms. V's front terrace, and thanked my lucky stars I had put on a semi-presentable outfit and had the foresight at least to throw on a hoodie, even if light.

Well, I started to contemplate whether I should make an apologetic 911 call and explain that, after all, it wasn't a true emergency, only that I was TRAPPED in my neighbor's apartment and could not get out.  At the very least, I could retreat indoors and would not freeze to death - thank goodness for that.  But I was not quite ready to engage the emergency response dispatchers.  Went back to the door.

And then I heard some hallway noises!  And the distinct sound of keys or a lock.  Who was it?  Were they coming or going?  Was it Mr. B, who might still hear me, being in the apartment next to Ms. V, or Ms. S, who was caddy corner to Ms. V and might NOT hear me, even if she was inside.  Oh, who was it?  I banged on the door from the inside.  No response.  I ran back out to the front terrace and began calling Mr. B's name again, and again, peering around the fence separating Ms. V's terrace from Mr. B's... and then Mr. B's terrace door opened and out he came!

Well, he tried the door, to no avail.  I slid keys underneath, and, finally, he was able to spring the lock and open the door.  He suggested we re-set the springs to the non-auto-lock option, and the knob turned just enough to open the door when it wasn't set to auto-lock.  So then we were able to go about our days, and this evening I warned the first get not to re-set the pins, and to keep my and Sissy's cell numbers close at hand - just in case.

Takeaways - must learn to carry phone everywhere.  Sissy is always complaining that I am unreachable out on the terrace.  I just get carried away doing what I love, and assume I will hear the landline ring.  But no more - phone always, or some device.

So there you have it - how watering a coddled evergreen led to my almost-entrapment and fortunate rescue.  Complete with happy ending :). No photos, though.  Sorry.  Some other time, I will share the story of a different entrapment, on a different terrace, years ago.

Yo-Yo Winter

Today's high was 58 degrees.  And then the brief little flirtation with the warm front gave way to abandonment, ushering in plunging temperatures.  Crazy rollercoaster weather.

The short spell of warmth had me out in leggings and clogs (sans socks) and a light hoodie wrapping up the gardening odds and ends.

First task was to get rid of the weeds from the Thai lime tree.  In the haste to bring it in from the cold a few weeks back, in with it came any weeds that had sprouted during the few autumn rainy spells.  So it was carried out to the table, and the weeds yanked.

Thai lime pot, after the weed removal.

The weeds from the Thai lime, now in the new makeshift compost bin. They had largely withered in the dryer indoor climate, and were easy to pull.



But, while examining the Thai lime in the afternoon light, it became clear that the few leaves that I thought had withered from lack of water were actually falling off due to a spider mite infestation.  Grr.  I will have to research how to get rid of those, lest I lose the whole plant.

Fine spider mite webbing.

On the edges, more webbing.



A few fallen, but fragrant, leaves.

While outside, it seemed a good time to try to contain some of the seeds from the herbs - the shiso and the kinh gioi - that will proliferate like crazy come springtime.  The seed heads were corralled into their respective pots.  The big unknown is how many seeds have sown themselves astray, but at least we can prevent continued unplanned germination.

Kinh gioi - after deadheading the seed heads.

After photo - deadheaded shiso, including a green shiso.

Before - Shiso (curly, I think) seed heads.

After - curly shiso.

Before - straight purple shiso.

Post-dead headed straight purple shiso.



The changing temperatures mean the possibility of the plant-killing freeze/thaw cycle - the soil in a planter freezing solid, with no place for melting snow and ice to drain, leading to root and bulb rot.  There was evidence of that in the pot where the pepper plants grew, and where the remnants of those plants still remain.

Puddling, in the pepper pot.

More evidence of puddling.



And, finally, the uprooted geraniums in for safekeeping - they need to be hung and dried.  To do....

Uprooted geraniums - winterizing to be completed.



More of Winter

And today it snowed.  And then it rained.  It was the first real accumulation of the season, although barely that.  Three inches at most.  And still we are four days from official winter.

It was enough to cause Sissy and me to cancel yesterday evening's original plan to head to the parental units' to put up the tree - it was really the only time we were going to be able to do it if the tree were to have a longer display life than the single night preceding Christmas.  As it happens, a family friend will have a Christmas Eve party here in the city - the plan had been to stay in the city and ride home Christmas Eve, and then no one would put up the tree before late Christmas Eve. Now, because of that, we'll try heading out Friday the 23rd, all come back in for the party, and then all head back out.  Not quite efficient, but so goes the scheduling.  Celebrate when time allows (and try not to think about the article one foolishly agreed to write, with a January 1st deadline...).

Thawed

And after the big freeze, there was the big thaw - or, rather, a brief thaw, so the forecasters predict.  So I tried to take advantage this morning before work....  We garden when we can, especially in the dead of winter (except winter hasn't officially arrived yet).

First, the belated geranium rescue.

Happily, the geranium planter thawed out, and the geranium plants yielded to some gentle tugging - en route to their indoor winter sojourn.

There was a little geranium growing near one of the bigger plants, stunted in its shadow (right).  After pulling the larger plants, another miniature showed itself (left).  The plan is to experiment with the terrarium method - can the glass jars trap enough heat to keep them alive through the winter?  We shall see....

Then there were the little tomatoes that hid in the dark the night of the deep freeze.  And a pepper too.  So those were salvaged.

This ripe little one fell into an empty pot behind the tomato planter.

 

The lonely little pepper.

Amazingly, the parsley is still going strong.  It did last year too.



With the planters thawed, the last of the tulip bulbs went in.  A few into the planter where the dead peach tree still stands.  And then a few into the large hydrangea planter.

The last of the tulip bulbs.

And the last little mandavilla vine segment got unwound, and we'll see whether it is strong enough to propagate or live through winter.  It would be shocking, but sometimes plants adapt and evolve.

In the meantime, while it has been cold and wet, caddy corner from here, the buildings that Bradley bought started to come down in earnest.  By spring, surely they will be leveled.

Each of the three buildings has lost at least two full stories, it seems.

The little backhoe, carting out the debris.



Change is a' coming.

Frozen

Elsa and Anna would be right at home in New York City right now.  The deep freeze set in, as the forecasters predicted would be the case; it got very cold very fast.

The plan had been to rescue the mandavilla - definitely not winter hardy plants.  And the geraniums - to bring them in as last year, but to hydrate them this year.  To bundle up and get this all done during the brightest light of day, in hopes some of the suns rays would impart heat as well as light.

But Saturday slowness and laziness and ease got in the way.  And the sun sets far sooner these days than one would like.  It was dark before I knew it.

Holiday lights on terraces across the way.

But the snow started to fall, and hastening out to tackle the chores at the last minute did little good....

Snow on the camera lens, frozen precipitation beginning to accumulate on the soil.

The rescuee geraniums had already frozen solid in their planters.  They would not budge, much as they were yanked.  Ah well.  Can't fight Mother Nature.

 

The geranium planter...

... and a close-up of the poor geranium plant, with the first frosty flakes settling into the grooves of the leaves.

All throughout the terrace, the water from the earlier heavy rains had frozen in their containers.  And, neglectful garden steward that I've been, I hadn't had a chance to empty them.  In a last ditch attempt to try to save the plastic containers from cracking or warping with the expanding frozen water, the disks of ice were plucked out, the containers overturned.

Frozen bird bath.

Block of ice from one of the rectangular tubs.

Evidence of the hastily emptied water containers... turned, with hopes the drains would not freeze as all of that water spilled onto the pavers and to the membrane underneath.  Haven't heard from the downstairs neighbors, so, presumably it all cleared.

More disks of ice.

Overturned water bucket, in its upturned winter position.

And then there were the compost buckets, with the compost tea simmering in the catchers underneath.  That had freeze potential too.  So the compost tea was poured into planters - full strength, and those buckets turned on their sides.

Compost tea bucket - in resting position.

Hose - in the bathtub to drain.

And, finally, the plants and produce that would otherwise freeze - the final harvest.

Frozen green tomatoes.

More on the vine.  Last year they turned into a condiment - perhaps again this year.  There may be no other use - seeds of green tomatoes can't be as good as from ripened ones, right?

Harvest - laid on the frosty table.  Sweet grapes to the left; assorted strays to the right.

Shivering roses...

... harvested.

 



And then there were the bicycles - that never got waxed - under their wind-torn bike parkas.  Ah well, they will have to fend for themselves.

The mountain bikes...

... only partially hidden, visible through their torn parkas.

And the final chore was to bring the more empty of the compost buckets closer to the door, for easy winter access.  And the sled as well - also for easy winter access :)

To catch the winter compost.  And to catch the short winter sledding season.  Dish of tomatoes waiting to be taken in on the sill.