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I made a Hat.  It stays on and everything.

8/9/2020

 
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Knitting sucks big dog's bollocks.  It's boring as shit, doesn't go well unless you've been doing it for fifty fucking years, the patterns are soul destroyingly basic and to cut a long story short, I refuse to do it.  But I have a lifelong love of wool, dammit.  And textiles, spinning, weaving, sheep... anything lanolin-related.  This plight is exacerbated by the fact that no knitter ever wants to make anything for me, no matter how many hints slash massive lists of demands I drop.
So fuck them.  Who better to cater to my exacting yet amorphous expectations than me?
​

Watching basket making stuff on Youtube from various cultures must have started up a subconscious thought-stew because I bought a bunch of handspun and started finger-crocheting without any real idea of what might come of it.  Four lines of different natural, relatively hard wool became a fat braid-like structure which I then just coiled from the top, sewing/warping it together as I formed it with a single thread and needle.  

Whatever this process is rightly called, I highly bloody recommend it.  It has all the relative technical ease of simple basketry, the low cost of hand sewing, the stress-free malleability of coil potting and the satisfying look of something someone else did, lol.  
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​If, like me, you suffer the highly refined and tremendously dignified problem of giant head/big hair syndrome, you know hats that fit and stay are a precious resource.  This bitch is heavy enough to remain seated in coastal wind and keeps the drips from one's eyes.  It is more than stiff enough to hold its shape but you could set/felt it up a bit with hot water, probably.  I've gone on to make a scarfy cravat thing for R using the same technique and you could do a really nice dog vest or coat out of it.  You may not be impressed, but I am.

The Bicácaro- Canarina canariensis

7/9/2020

 
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Personally, I fucking loathe most campanulas, those dirty ship rats of the perennial world, but don't let that prompt you to dismiss C canariensis.  It displays none of its obnoxious family's shitty proclivities and abundantly rewards a bit of consideration, which is more than we can probably say for most our own relatives.  There seems to be some confusion around this genera with some peeps' canariensis looking suspiciously like C eminii, a similar African species, but who knows?  One is as nice as the other.

Mine is around three years out from ye olde tiny seedling stage and this is its first flowering, hence my excitement.  

In its native islands, canariensis lolls about as an understory plant in remnant forest up to 1000m elevation, draping itself over other vegetation in an attitude of endearing vegetal sluttiness that should earn it a place in any garden.  A scandent creature rather than a true twining climber, you can send it up or down, over wire or hanging from a basket and I intend to do the latter with this plant now that it has attained a decent size.
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I bought my Canarina from a local weird plant lady on a whim because Canary Island plants tend to do well here in our introverted little microclimate, they are often endangered in their native range and because the flowers are insanely beautiful.  You can see something of its Campanulaceae heritage in the shape of that pendant bell and delicate foliage, if not the plant's habit or marmalade palette. 
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C canariensis is a bit of a seasonal contrarian in that it dries out and retreats back into corky, dahlia-like tubers just below the soil surface in early summer, sitting out the stinging UV of our hotter months and reemerging in autumn.   ​Here the flower appears in early spring and can continue for a while until edible fruits occur, a prospect I hardly dare hope for.

In lieu of any specific advice about soil needs, I stuck mine in a 50/50 blend of rose mix and coarse pumice, guessing from its forest-slope origin that a relatively open, well-drained but humusy medium was called for.  It gets a good watering about once a week while in growth, and bugger-all over summer when dormant, so it's not particularly high maintenance.

While I have found most plants hardier than conventional wisdom allows I really would not roll the frosty dice and leave this fleshy guy out over night in any sort of high winds or winter.  The stems are hollow and easily munted.   Mine sits outside with my Aloes and has probably experienced close to freezing under a polycarbonate verandah, but any direct icing would turn it to sludge in fairly short order.  Too hot is no good either; C canariensis will apparently decline if your summers inflict extended temps over 25 C.  

Well shit, that makes two of us.
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Other Vegetative Glories because Plants don't Talk Shit or Cough On You in the Supermarket


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