good folk

Got home a bit ago from the conference. Whew. Long day. Whole building is made of concrete (I swear it is) and it didn’t warm up until 5 and my feet are still freezing. Came home and put on heavy marled wool socks and that helped. Tomorrow: a complete set of long underwear (at least a pair of lightweight silk ones) and more heavy socks. If I happen to power surge, well, I can take off a layer and hide it under the registration desk.

The best part of the whole gathering is that this is the GREEN INDUSTRY and these are plant people. Everyone in a dither about the hardiness of what’s in the ground or in their nursery and how it will hold up. Lots of smirking about our zone denial. So what is it really called when you get to 10 degrees? The UPDATED USDA map now has us in zone 7. Ten degrees, cold, dry and sunny………..flipping cold.

One nursery employee had us rolling our eyes about the woman who called up and wanted hardy palms around her new swimming pool here in the desert. She missed the look of them. I say tell her the truth and then sell them to her. Preferably an allee of them, like in Los Angeles. About a $1000 a pop. Right up there with the guy who developed Saguaro Canyon in West Boise. Put a cluster of huge saguaros in front of the big fancy entrance to the subdivision. Then wrapped them in black plastic. It was a bittersweet moment when they turned to mush. I felt terrible about the perfectly wonderful saguaro cactus being pimped off in Idaho for a real estate deal. At $100 per vertical foot, and god knows how long it took to grow them, and the cost of transporting them, I do believe it was an expensive mistake. Al Gore, are you listening?

Reminds me of one of my favorite definitions: “bittersweet is when you see your long lost hunting dog come running to you across your freshly poured concrete driveway.”

I am going to say this again. And probably again. Genus loci. Sense of Place. Get with the flipping program. If Idaho’s scenery isn’t enough for you, please go someplace that makes you happy. Put up a huge photo of your beloved former address. Don’t try to rearrange the face of my state. This is not Los Angeles, not Tuscany, and not Oregon. So get over it. Love the one you’re with.

If you are good folk, we might even let you stay and play with us.