Steven Chamblee from afar…

From our nomadic horticulturist who now finds himself (with his sweet wife) outside Portland, Oregon, I recently received this great note. Steven wrote for e-gardens for many years while he was working here in Texas. He’s an outstanding horticulturist and an even better writer. When I saw his note, I asked permission to share it with you. Many of you had wondered if he got too close to the voodoo lilies, but not at all. Here’s his accounting.

Dear Neil,
I am writing you at 1am, Oct 19. Currently, it is raining and chilly here, so I am snuggled up in double bath robes and a towel inside my little garden gazebo, which is snuggled under thirteen little ol’ Douglas fir trees – all 110 to 140 feet tall – which, in turn, are snuggled into a remnant urban forest. (It’s like I went to some kind of fancy forest resort…and they let me move in!) Here, it’s a snugglefest for sure. Four blocks away, the workaday world goes about its business…counting pennies, counting minutes, always in a hurry…

Most nights, I hear the resident owl hooting and what sounds to me like tree frogs, punctuated occasionally by some kind of screaming bird that sets off the neighborhood dogs. But the air is filled with the sounds of rain tonight, accented occasionally by a cone crash-landing nearby. Although I am new to Oregon, it seems like it rains different here…moves in slow, smaller drops, more of them. Texas rain doesn’t have the patience for that; arrives like a stampede, empties the bucket, and rides off into the sunset. On the other hand, I do indeed remember those “five-inch rains” during August, where those big fat raindrops would be five inches apart on the sidewalk.

Most days, Nuthatches constantly visit a fanciful coconut shell filled with sunflower seeds a mere 40 inches to my right. Juncos and the majestic Stellar’s Jay compete with grey squirrels for the feast at the main feeder (elevated + highly-exposed = cat attack resistant).

So, on to my real reason for writing…
I just don’t feel like I did you or the readers right by departing Texas so suddenly. I wrote, then deleted my 62-page report on the horrors of moving and came up with this instead:

I knew changin’ addresses in a Texas July was pure insanity,
So, I tell you this tale true, sans the profanity.
In an attempt to avoid the sun’s angry heat,
I went nocturnal; packing the pods after sun’s retreat.
Still, the swelter was relentless, like a bloodhound on the trail,
And I sweated like Niagara Falls, Maid of the Mist, over the rail.
Finally!
The pods are packed!!
My nerves are wracked!
My back is cracked!
My hackie’s sacked!
And that’s a fact. Ugh.
Got into the shower just before sunrise
Found myself quite a surprise…between my thighs!
Not only am I sore, exhausted, & hemorrhaging cash,
Seems I got myself a full-blown case of diaper rash!

Every word true. Burned like fire all the way to Albuquerque. Thankfully, I got it under control by Bryce Canyon. I mentioned my plight to a single Master Gardener in a text and received 16 diaper rash remedies – from 16 different MGs – within the hour. Makes me wonder how many resisted the urge to text me about Boudreaux’s Butt Paste or Aunt Velda’s Magic Booty Butter Poultice… (Hmmm…for all I know, you’ve already heard this story, too…)
Of note: It took me a full month to find all of this funny.

Images of poison oak. Clickable for larger views.

Notes From the Field…
One of my horticultural pet peeves – this one has been a bur under my saddle for decades – is when folks use the name “Poison Oak” in reference to “Poison Ivy.” Most of the time, I reckon it’s men trying to sound macho…“Poison Oak” sounds tough; “Poison Ivy,” not so much.

The real reason this bothers me is because I’m an impatient teacher. That said, my horticulturally trained eyes see obvious differences in the two species, and I, as an educator of sorts, feel morally obligated to correct those not fully appreciating the differences between the two. And not surprisingly, people seem to like my help, as they have bestowed upon me some of the cutest nicknames I’ve ever heard…Green Goloco…Stu Pidjerk…Mindjerone Bizz …

Anyhoo, I found a nice patch of Western Poison Oak (Toxicodendron diversilobum) in my backyard here in Oregon. I chose to remove it one small piece at a time using minimal equipment – disposable rubber gloves, Felcos, plastic bag.

Poison Oak leaves are thicker, more rounded, and often have lobing that mimics white oak foliage. Overall, the plant is thicker-stemmed and physically sturdier than Poison Ivy. Don’t worry, though, it still tries to whip around and gitcha, just like Poison Ivy.

Quick story from the old Fort Worth Botanic Garden days. I was a rookie, autumn arrived, and brought with it excellent fall color, particularly to one tree bordering the South Vista. I went to investigate and found a large dead Callery pear tree … with a wrist-sized Poison Ivy vine that had completely covered the tree’s canopy and was in its full autumn glory.

Anyway, just thought I’d check in and let you know that, as Mark Twain once said, “Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.”

Peace & Love,
Steven