Edges Like Sea Glass

By Leah LaRocco

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Hens And Chicks: What’s The Fuss?

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As much as I would love to buy chickens and all sorts of cute barnyard animals for the yard, my coworkers have forbidden it.  They yell at me and say I’m crazy when I send adorable pictures of barn-y creatures over the work instant messenger.  You’d be surprised by what you can find on Craigslist.  Adorable little goats, miniature donkeys, mules, guinea fowl, Rhode Island reds, horses, ponies, and pot belly pigs have tempted me, especially with the shed/barn in my backyard.   But alas, the hens and chicks I refer to are of the plant variety.

Last year I went on a plant buying frenzy in June, which is way late to be going on a plant buying frenzy in Tennessee.  By that time of year, most of the plants at Home Depot and Lowes have been fried to bits or they are completely out of what you want.  The True Value garden center actually exceeded my expectations with a few things, and John Deere and Hewitt’s were just way too expensive for what they were selling.  No, I won’t spend $14.99 on a hosta that has been trimmed to a bloody stub because someone forgot to water it, thank you.

One of the things I couldn’t find anywhere last year was Hens and Chicks.  They are like the holy grail of succulents.  All the garden centers were out of them, so when I saw a big display of them at Home Depot last week, I snatched them up.  As I was driving home I realized it’s still cold winter, and planting succulents at this time of year is stupid.  No matter, I had my chickies.

Hens and Chicks thrive in crappy soil.  Imagine the driest, sandiest, rockiest, ickiest soil that normal plants wouldn’t be able to live in.  Got it?  That’s what the chickies like.  I’ve also read that they don’t like to be fussed over.  This is a little upsetting because I really love fussing over plants.  I over-fuss.  Apparently one is not supposed to water chickies too often, except when you plant them.  That’s when they get a good long drink that will see them through seasons of unfussiness. 

After looking around at very expensive pottery planters, I stumbled upon a little gold mine at Big Lots.  I wouldn’t recommend buying many gardening related things there, but they actually had a great selection of planters that were less than half the price of the other places I looked.  The pots were $8 apiece and the green one is an old Pottery Barn Outlet find that was hanging around.  I got some cactus soil and added a bunch of white rocks that were dumped next to the patio by the previous owners.  This is what happened.

I hoped that by adding the rocks, the plants would feel
like they were roughing it and, you know, be inspired to persevere in
their difficult circumstances.  I watered them well and set them on the front porch so they wouldn’t get rained on.  Then I started worrying.  Did I water them too much?  Do they feel too fussed over?  I’ve been ignoring them for a few days, haven’t even gone to check on them once.

A few years ago I discovered that I have a knack with orchids.  This is weird because lots of people buy orchids from the grocery store and kill them in no time.  I think this is due to over-watering.  Two of the ones I have are now in their fourth year of re-blooming thanks to a cranky orchid grower I met in Florida a few years ago.  She said the secret to getting a phalaenopsis orchid to bloom again is to put it through a cold spell.  When the weather reaches around 45-50 degrees at night, around October or November, put the orchids outside for two weeks, then bring them in and treat them like normal.  Before you know it, they’ll be sprouting a new stem with buds.  It’s amazing.  Every year it works without fail.  But I enjoy fussing over my orchids, misting them every now and then, turning them, fertilizing once a year, chatting with them…so I’m trying the opposite strategy with the chickies.  Hopefully they’ll make it.  Hens and chicks overwinter in Tennessee so I’m not too worried about the cold, but I am a little worried.  Just a little.

The Roof Over My Head…Literally

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When the last tornado came through town, it beat the crap out of my roof, which ended up being a major blessing in disguise.  I ended up calling Superior Roofing in Franklin, TN and they came out, met with my insurance adjuster, and did a really great job replacing the roof on my house and on the shed out back.

I’ve never seen a roof replaced, so I got excited to be home and have the chance to watch the process.  I asked lots of questions and learned lots of mundane things.  At 7 am sharp, the crew arrived and a herd of buffalo proceeded to rip the place apart.  The cats freaked out in holy terror for most of the morning, running to and fro, meowing irritatedly, until the warm afternoon sun signaled nap time.

Since many of you have also probably not had the chance to see a roof from start to finish, I present you with a blow by blow of my “Pictorial Ode To A Roof.”

When the shingles blew off, the guys put a tarp up that held the place together for a couple of weeks until the insurance check came.

Tarps were spread over all the flower beds and around the sides of the house where all the shingles were dumped.  The guys used pitchforks to remove the shingles, American Gothic style.  There were two layers, one was an ugly brown that must have been the bane of the neighborhood for a decade.  Ew.

This truck was brimming to the top by the end of the day.

Instead of using felt, they now use this high tech synthetic stuff that is lighter, stronger, and prevents leaks if your shingles are blown off in a storm.  But that won’t happen because these are certified for like 100 mph winds or something.

The shingles used were Timblerline HD architectural shingles in Pewter Grey.  They look much more interesting than ordinary flat shingles.

VOILA!!!!!  New roof!!!  Everything was cleaned up and I just stood in the yard, thanking God for sending a small tornado that only blew part of my house off.  There are still a couple of things to be done, but what a relief to have this huge thing taken care of the first year in the house.

For anyone getting a new roof, I would suggest shopping around to find a company you trust that has all kinds of good certifications and references and good people with great customer service.  Also, if you have nervous pets, you may want to put them somewhere else for the day.  If anything looks amiss while the job is going on, ask questions because you may learn something.  After the job is done, make sure you walk around the yard and look for stray nails and pieces of shingle that could take out an eye the next time you mow the lawn.  Also, insurance can be a pain to deal with, but make sure you stand up for yourself, are educated about the process, and understand the whole depreciation factor.  Insurance checks now come made out to you AND the name of your mortgage company.  I got to meet the cute, just out of college, boys at my bank and chat with them for an hour while waiting for someone at the head office to approve a signature.  Also, the estimate the insurance company sends has to match up with the estimate your roofer gives you in terms of work being done.  Apparently, companies have gotten much more strict about their policies concerning replacement costs and reimbursements, so it’s best to just do it by the book.

That is all the wisdom I have to share today.  I can’t wait till it rains to see if the roof holds up.

What Lies Beneath…

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I am nearly going insane with spring fever.  The weather this winter has been a confusing mix of unusually warm and utterly freezing cold.  All of my bulbs are starting to emerge, which is making me crazy to get in the garden, and I’ve been pruning and fussing around all my little tender plants that are starting to come back up.

It’s maddening because it is too early to be gardening.  So I’m reading You Grow Girl, which is actually a great book for savvy chicks who like to get dirty and the website is pretty awesome too.

At Home Depot and Lowes, the garden center sections are pretty much closed off, and when you walk into them, there is a tepid supply of seeds and some leftover plants from the fall.  I think my biological garden clock is off because it is seed starting time, people, there should be ridiculous amounts of veggie and flower seeds strewn all over the place by avid planters like me, but all that awaits me are two cardboard displays with ugly Burpee seed packets that boast totally boring varietals.  Having worked in a garden center for 5 years and growing up with a horticulturist for a dad, I usually know exactly what I want when I walk into a garden center.  I am infuriated by lame employees who know nothing of the plants they are selling.  I get irrationally pissed when I ask a question about seeds and get a blank stare. 

I purchased all my seeds for seed starting as of today.  Some are in the mail on their way, and some were found in the local garden shop Yarrow Acres in downtown Franklin.  I will expound on that at a later date, but today I basked in the loveliness that was President’s Day.  Bulbs are emerging, the garden is laid out and a plan is down on paper…and also in the yard, laid out with bamboo. 

I am so excited for spring.  In March, Cheekwood will have a daffodil show on March 23-24.  I am so excited.  I’ve been to this a couple of times and each time, I am stunned by the beauty and variety of the flowers.  I’ve noticed in my yard that several patches of daffodils were planted by the previous owners…in the shade…so none of the leaves have blooms amongst them.  I might try relocating the bulbs to a sunnier spot to see if that helps.

For now I have to be content to wait knowing that the payoff will be big.  If I start too early, I’ll screw my little plants and cause them to struggle unnecessarily.  Only a couple more weeks and the planting can begin!!!

An Ode To Heat Loss In The Winter

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I like to think I’m one of those girls who can stay calm under pressure.  You know, like Meredith Grey on Grey’s Anatomy, who calmly takes charge in a situation where blood is gushing from a patient and all the interns are freaking out.  I like to think I’m that type of girl.  Silly really, because I’m totally not that type of girl.

So on Friday night when Rob and I came home from food shopping and stepped out of the car into the driveway, I went a little nuts when I noticed a very strong gas smell in the yard.  I immediately had visions of the house exploding and causing chain fires throughout the neighborhood, resulting in millions of dollars in damages and the President’s helicopter hovering over the town of Franklin, declaring it a Federal disaster area.  This is my first experience with gas heat, so I have no idea what to do in these types of situations.  So we just left it running, I called my home warranty company and made a claim, and then went to bed hoping I wouldn’t die.

Well, that’s apparently not what you’re supposed to do when your HVAC unit is leaking gas.  YOU TURN IT OFF.  So I turned it off and waited for a technician to come to the house on a Saturday when we were planning to have friends over for dinner.  I ran to Target and picked up some floor heaters and we had our dinner.  Apparently my HVAC unit is 13 years old and has a cracked heat exchanger which is leaking gas and carbon monoxide on the outside of the house.

By Tuesday, before receiving the part from the manufacturer, my house had turned into a fridge and no matter how warm it happened to be outside (a high of 71 degrees that day), it still felt like 42 degrees inside.  I was so damn cranky and wanted to bite everyone’s head off and yell at them for no reason.  It is now easy for me to understand why people lose their minds during natural disasters. Something about your habitat being screwed with really messes with your equilibrium.  This is probably why the cats hated me for weeks after we moved into the new house.  I must buy them more treats.

The completely stupid thing about this was that I had electricity, running water, an embarrassingly large stash of Biscoff cookies in the pantry to have with tea, my straightening iron still worked…everything a girl could need!  I am beyond grateful that the weather was not 28 degrees during the day, although it will get down to that at night by the end of the week.  There is nothing happening that should have plunged me into the depths of stressdom since the heaters kept the bedroom and the bathroom warm, but the feeling of being a prisoner kept from the rest of the icy house made me feel caged.  How on earth did they not freeze to death in Downton Abbey?!  Those episodes where they’re standing out in the snow, necks exposed, wearing a chemise and slippers, those women were nuts!  And the fireplaces in that house couldn’t have kept the hallways warm, right? 

Anyway, the missing part came in.  As the roofers were arriving after the storm to assess the roof damage and the next door neighbor was arriving to assess the tree damage, the HVAC guys came to fix the heat.  They were there all day long, and the thing was still leaking gas.  Thankfully, after replacing nearly every part inside the unit, the heat came back on at about 7 pm last night.  People, if I hadn’t had a home warranty, this repair would have cost over $1500.  The home warranty covered all but $250 of the cost, so I am officially an advocate for getting a warranty for at least the first year you live in a home.  There are just too many unpredictable factors that can cause things to break.  I hope this thing lasts another 13 years now that the insides are all new!

Home ownership is great, but man…