More from the Landmark

Click on a picture to get the full view. One of them seems to have gotten covered up. Apparently I need a Pic-Posting 101 as well.

Horticulture 101: A Novice Perspective

One of my most favorite things to do in the whole world is go plant-shopping with Sarah. I don't typically let on how much I enjoy it, but I freaking LOVE it! Sarah is quite the vegetation expert, although, she'll most modestly say otherwise. I know nothing about flowers or plants. I had a plant named Herb once, right after I moved into my first apartment. He's dead. I also had a beautiful aloe vera plant that my mother sent with me to college. I felt it was getting to big for its pot so I thought I'd just re-pot it. Also dead.


I know enough about plants and nature to appreciate it as God's gorgeous creation and enjoy being in it, but should probably leave well enough alone. Beyond that I know roses, tulips, daffodils, hyacinth, and dandelions by sight, perhaps a few others. Sarah, however, knows everything and then some--seriously, you should be with yourself sometime, Sarah, it's staggering. We can be driving by a restaurant and she'll point out the landscape arrangements by name and then expound on why they should or should not have used those specific plants. And when we're in places like Lowe's or Home Depot, she'll rattle off the names of plants and whether or not they need more or less sunlight, water, pruning . . . It's truly amazing. I always learn so much when we're on such outings, but I never remember the names of the plants and flowers she points out. (Although, I do remember that bindweed or morning glory is growing in the northwest corner of the Cheddar's parking lot.) Tragic really, because they have such great names. Being the word-nerd that I am, I try to associate their names with what pops into my head when I hear them as a way to remember them. It helps if it's something meaningful. So far, I've got down lantana, initially because it reminded me of Dan Tanna, Robert Urich's character on "Vegas". Not that I really remember that show, but who forgets a name like Dan Tanna? The main reason I remember it is because I was constantly encountering it as I sat in the drive-thru line at Rosa's Cafe--associating words with something meaningful is key. Unfortunately, I end up morphing the plant name with the word I associated it to, so bougainvillea comes out blow-gun-via . . . which instantly conjures the image of a plant grown specifically for the use of making those little poisoned darts for blow-guns. Honestly, I couldn't distinguish it from hot lips saliva. I was with Sarah at the nursery a few weeks ago while she was looking for some basil and calibrated cobras, but she was moving so fast from one plant to another that I wasn't able to remember what any of the plants looked like. I do remember that apart from the basil we milled through agape, Portuguese maracas, epiglottis, and hyperbole-berries. We were fascinated by this plant that looked like fuzzy red caterpillars on skewers and then we walked over to Mrs. Camp's. (Cake . . . YES!)


Last week Sarah and I ventured out to Lubbock Lake Landmark to check out some activities they had going on. We were fortunate enough to have the best guides imaginable. Two older men who knew their plants. One of them only knew the common names and the other knew only the Latin names, a perfect combination. We stopped every few feet to look at various kinds of grass, wildflowers, and herb plants. It was like being on a PBS show! I only really remember the Louisiana sage-wort and the spiny streptococcus.


All silliness aside, I actually wrote down the names of a lot of the plants and wildflowers that we saw: yarrow, flea-bane daisy, blue grandma grass, copper and globe mallow, bladder pods, and blanket flower. It's going to take me further study to be able to recognize them on sight. I mostly took pictures, which should be dispersed in and follow this post. I purposely did not identify them to spare the plant savvy among you more chagrin. I want you to know how much I admire your enthusiasm and ability to nurture nature.