6:59 p.m. - 2003-05-15
Slimy Salamander
I know you all hate me for these giant photos that take 20 minutes to load. But does it stop me? Hah! Of course not. Here's what's happening in the garden:
Let's see: the whiteish, lavenderish, purpleish, alien space blossom is my passionflower - Passiflora cerulea. I love passionflowers. Sigh. The yellow rose next to it is a David Austin rose called Golden Celebration, which Bruce bought for me the first Valentine's Day that we were here in the South. It is, hands down, my most favorite rose in the world. It has a perfect old fashioned cabbage rose form, a nice antique yellow colour, and a smell to die for. Just a fabulous rose.
Ok, Tater, stop it! Stop it! I am NOT just like one of those insane orchid people!! I'm NOT!!! I'm...ummm...not....reeeeeaaally....
Anyway, there's also a bud of Dr. Van Fleet, who is still blooming insanely. And some of our perennials, including an evening primrose and a rose campion which I brought here from Boston, and which have been passed down through generations of my family. We've had them since at least my great-great-great grandmother's gardens. My family passes down plants like most people pass down silver. One of the stipulations of my inheriting my parent's house and land is that I have to take care of all these heirloom plants, and I have to go up there at the end of this summer and make maps of where they are all planted.
Of course, since Bruce and I have no children, I have no idea what happens after we die. Maybe I can con my niece and nephew into becoming gardeners at some point.
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Wanna' meet my newest friend? It's Mr. Slimy Salamander. We met Slimy after we hauled a big cedar tree out of the jungle with the intention of making it into a retaining border for the new vegetable garden we're working on. The cedar tree had fallen over months ago and was nice and straight and fairly small - perfect for a front garden edge.
As we were putting it into place I saw something black and...well...slimy moving around the inside of the base. I thought it was some hideous bug, but it was just too long. And then it popped it's pointy little head out of a hole.
"It's a Slimy Salamander!" announced Bruce.
Once again, it is just so dang convenient to be married to a biologist. He may not be able to fix our plumbing, but I'll never have to worry about critter identification. Whether it's slimy salamanders or mammalian embryos, Bruce is just the man.
Mr. Salamander seemed confused and distressed to find himself in the sunlight, so I gently picked him up and walked him back to the jungle. It turned out he was probably concerned about missing a meal as well, because the old tree had a gigantic ants nest in it. We had to shake out gobs of ants and ant larva. So charming.
Later on, when I was pulling some of the jungle vines out from near the back patio, I found another, much smaller, slimy salamander. It was very cute.
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