Toofin

I am usually of the horizontally-laid-back supine staring-at-the garden persuasion until I lose my mind and heart to The Next Art Project.

Right now this N.A.P. is hypertufa, or lightweight cement planters and their plantees. Don’t let the acronym fool you. This is not restful.  The prefix is apt. It ain't called hyper-tufa for nothing.  

Some background:  Tufa is natural limestone that mixes with lake or spring water rich in calcium carbonate forming rocks light enough in weight that farmers were able to carve troughs and move them around to feed and water their animals.  When they ran out of the naturally occurring light rock stuff, they started casting about, as it were, for a suitable alternative. 

Portland cement was invented in an English stone mason's kitchen by mixing finely ground limestone with clay.  I think I made “healthy” holiday cookies out of just such a mixture in the 60s.  Ex called them Christmas rocks.  Edison played around with Portland, developed a special kiln and built a number of houses with it.   His mix was used in the original Yankee Stadium and was deemed so strong, that they left his parts (no, not those parts) when they did an early renovation.

Some modern history:  I had gone through a cement period (no, not THAT kind of period!) some time ago. I was into making stepping stones, cement birds' nests, stone hearts.  Some of them still exist.  Cement is like that.  I went on to other wild creative endeavors.  I say wild, but you should know that I seldom leave my bedroom, house, or garden. But the excitement of creativity feels wild in my heart while it's happening. It's torture. It's enchanting in the best and worst senses.

Lately, cement planters, totally planted with plants I've grown for them, began haunting my dreams.  I wanted to be "toofin" again. I began collecting cactus and succulents .

Anyway, toofin' commenced.  (Never thought I'd say that to anyone.) I’m making double batches of the light-weight cement, growing the sucs. 

The cows came home, and I'm still planting the plants and mixing the cement. 

I forgot that Florida used to get serious rainy seasons. I grew up in the 60s. I live in the moment.  I'm Here Now. Short-term AND long-term memory are shot. I blame the 60s and menopause. 

 As I begin writing this "hurricane" Debby is churning around and making it rain more than it has in months. We're in Day 4 of Windy Torrents.  I'm scared for my little drought-loving succulent plants but cozy indoors. I wonder if I'll go back outside to puddles of mushy cement and drowned plants.

I'm walking Chance-the-dog with our raincoats on.  Hey! Has anyone invented tiny slickers or umbrellas for our green friends of the floral persuasion?  Do I sense The Next Art Project? Ugh! I'm exhausted.