Much like my friend from Oklahoma, I see no brawl either just some folks sharing their differing opinions and that is a good thing. I have to admit that I was hoping that some of the "Green Party" folks would eventually show up. Fulfilling my wishes, they did. A couple earnest people have questioned the facts that I selectively chose from "right-leaning sources". Of course, true to form, they selected only "facts" from "left-leaning sources". To really add muster to the point I am attempting to make, we even got to witness an element from the whacko-fringe, who only registered on this forum that very day to spew his "facts" and brand me a coward. I have always felt this element continues (sadly) to inflict harmful impact to the credibility of the ecology movement as a whole. Facts what exactly are facts? I am not really sure that I can say with any amount of certitude. Both sides of almost any issue can banter back and forth all day long, citing sources that deduce quantities of data into diametrically opposed conclusions. As the old joke goes, told in my first session of a statistical analysis class in 1969 at Iowa State University: Question: What do the statistics say? Answer: What do you want them to say? Any more, I am very dubious about forming an opinion based upon "facts" until I know the agenda of the one promoting that selective set of "facts". One of our participants has now encouraged us to view a movie with a collection of "facts" provided by a politician who at one time claimed to personally invent the Internet. This guy has lived a life filled with agendas. Facts? Hmmm Not having even done so, I could probably go to a right-leaning source (say, perhaps Rush Limbaughs website) that would present another collection of facts to refute everything the movie contends. Unfortunately, ecology awareness (choose your own preferred term) has become hopelessly ensnarled in politics. It seems like every word used is defined differently, depending upon who is doing the using. Bill Clinton illustrated this technique well when he famously said: "It depends upon what the definition of "is", is." If you take the example of my "fact" about there being more trees today than when the country first began. Firstly, the numbers are extrapolated estimates from both dates. If you pay careful attention to the typical phrasing of the data (Can any estimate truly be considered data?), the left likes to use the term, "cover". More in: "Statistics clearly show that there was X percentage more forest cover in the 1700s than at present." On the other hand, the right seems to prefer the term, "number of trees". How exactly do the terms, "forest cover" and "number of trees" directly equate? Do they really mean the same thing or, are both sides trying to promote their chosen agenda? I suspect BOTH sides are fudging a bit. However, I dont think either side is using words that are not technically truthful. More to the point: Lets say you and I have a 1 acre pot of land side by side. On your ground, you have a huge, 100 year-old bur oak tree growing on a savanna. On my identical plot, I have just planted 200 oak saplings. Without question, it would be a true statement that your single tree provides many, many times more cover than my saplings. However, it is equally true that I have 200 times as many trees on my ground than you do on yours. Does it make sense that we now begin arguing over who is more environmentally conscious than the other? I have grown weary of the exaggerations of both sides. I have grown weary of the name calling. I have grown weary of the smarmy politics. I have grown weary of activists (on both sides) telling me what I should either do and/or believe. I have grown weary of being told "the sky is falling" when I can look around and see the many improvements that have happened in my lifetime. (Yes, there is still a lot left to do.) I have grown weary seeing the good, hard work by dedicated, environmentally concerned folks suffering serious, repetitive setbacks to their cause at the hands (or mouth) of a few whackos. What I would now most like this thread to do is move beyond the politics and return to discussing what precipitated this thread at the onset: People like our friend, NYwoodsman, who feels landscape design has nothing to offer him and further believes landscaping issues fail to adequately embrace nature. His arguments are not totally without merit for a certain segment of society. Personally, I think it is possible to do both. I even suggested one example for him with an enhanced incorporation of spring ephemerals into his woodland. In an essentially treeless paradigm of the prairie, I see far too much opportunity squandered by both "the green crowd" and landscape professionals. It seems to me that by an unconsciously self-imposed sequestration, both "sides" remain blind to the opportunity afforded by mutual cooperation. Is anyone else interested in exploring this? IronBelly

I doubt he killed this woman. He was in Chicago working on a big project for several days before this murder; she was in western Wisconsin at Taliesin in Spring Green. Plus 7 people were killed, only 1 was the wife. They were axed to death. FLW was an egomaniac but not a killer. If he was tired of a woman he would just leave her like he did before. Story: The Weekly Home News, August 20, 1914 "Murderer of Seven: Sets Fire to Country Home of Frank Lloyd Wright Near Spring Green" While the members of the household were at dinner, last Saturday, Julian Carlton, a negro servant, fired Frank Lloyd Wrights bungalow, murdered seven and seriously wounded one with a hatchet and another received injuries in jumping from a window. The dead are: Mrs. Mamah Borthwick, their son and daughter, John and Martha Cheney, aged 11 and 9 respectively; Emil Brodelle, aged 30, an architectural draftsman; Thomas Brunker, of Ridgeway, hostler; Ernest Weston, 13-year-old son of Mr. And Mrs. Wm. Weston of Spring Green; and David Lindblom, gardener. The wounded are: William H. Weston of Spring Green, foreman of the bungalow activities, and Herbert Fritz of Chicago. The latter escaped the negros wrath but received a broken arm and glass cuts in making his escape through a window. He was also slightly burned. Mr. Wright was in Chicago, where business had called him several days before and he escaped the murders hatchet. The negro waiter had served dinner to the men in the small room temporarily used for that purpose and to Mrs. Borthwick and her children on the dining porch, which was located just off the guest room where the childs room had been. While they were eating he came to the door and asked Mr. Weston for gasoline, with which to clean a rug, and was given permission to get some. Soon after, those in the dining room heard a splash against the door and in an instant the room was full of flaming gasoline, which the fiend had poured against and under the door. As they attempted to escape, some through the door and some through a window, the negro struck them down with a hatchet. Mr. Fritz was the first out. He says that he and Mr. Brodelle were eating at a separate table, and as the room burst into flames he sprang for the window and made his escape, getting out before the murderer was prepared. Mr. Fritz was followed through the window which was about five feet from the ground, by Mr. Brodelle and Wm. Weston in the order named. As the two latter came through they were hatchted. Fritz says he saw Brodelle staggering about and saw the negro strike Weston. The other occupants of the dining room, he says, got out through the door, which was just beside the window. Mr. Weston said that as he came through the window Carlton struck him with the hatchet and he fell. He got up and ran across the court to the studio. Carlton followed him and struck him a second time, knocking him down. Probably thinking him dead the negro went back to the slaughter. Mr. Weston then ran out another way and found David Lindblom wounded and burning. He helped him extinguish his burning clothing and together they ran to the Rieder home half a mile away and telephoned for help. Above are the stories of the only survivors of the tragedy... The Famous Bungalow The country home, the scene of the terrible tragedy, was a typical Wright creation built some three years ago as a retreat for a man and woman of unconventional ideas and is located on a hill just across the river directly south of Spring Green. It is a long, low structure, carved into the brow of the hill. On three sides the building bounds an oblong court. The fourth side is a terrace joining the bungalow tot he hill upon the side of which it slings. At one end of another adjoining court are the granary, stables and mens sleeping rooms; then, at right angles and connecting the two ends, is that part which contained offices, studio and an open loggia. Then comes the portion, near the entrance to the court, built for Mr. Wrights mother, which was being temporarily used as a dining room by the workmen and draftsmen. Adjoining this dwelling, Mr. Wright himself lived. All this portion is completely burned. Mr. Wright will start at once to rebuild. Frank Lloyd Wright To His Neighbors To My Neighbors: To you who have rallied so bravely and well to our assistanceto you who have been invariably kind to us allI would say something to defend a brave and lovely woman from the pestilential touch of stories made by the press for the man in the street, even now, with the loyal fellows lying dead beside her, any one of whom would have given his life to defend her. I cannot bear to leave unsaid things that might brighten memory of her in the mind of anyone. But they must be left unsaid. I am thankful to all who showed her kindness or courtesy and that means many. No community anywhere could have received the trying circumstances of her life among you in a more high-minded way. I believe at no time has anything been shown her as she moved in your midst but courtesy and sympathy. This she won for herself by her innate dignity and gentleness of character but anotherperhaps any other communitywould have seen her through the eyes of the press that even now insists upon decorating her death with the fact, first and foremost, that she was once another mans wife, "a wife who left her children." That must not be forgotten in this man-made world. A wife still is "property." And yet the well-known fact that another bears the name and title she once bore had no significance. The birds of prey were loosed upon her in death as well as in life, to fee that Moloch of the heart that maintains itself at the cost of "the man in the street," by preaching to him in vulgar language the Gospel of Mediocrity. But this noble woman had a soul that belonged to her alonethat valued womanhood above wifehood or motherhood. A woman with a capacity for love and life made really by a higher ideal of truth, a finer courage, a higher more difficult ideal of the white flame of chastity than was "moral" or expedient and for which she was compelled to crucify all that society holds sacred and essentialin name! And finally, out of the mass of lies which forms the article covering this catastrophe in Sundays Chicago Tribune, is a lie the work of an assassin that in malice belongs with the mad black except that he struck tin the heat of madness and this assassin strikes the living and the dead in cool malice. In our life together there has been no thought of secrecy except to protect others from the contaminating stories of newspaper scandal; no pretense of a condition that did not exist. We have lived frankly and sincerely as we believed and we have tried to help others to live their lives according to their ideals. Neither of us expected to relinquish a potent influence in our childrens lives for goodnor have we. Our children have lacked the atmosphere of an ideal love between father and mothernothing else that could further their development. How many children have more in the conventional home? Mamahs children were with her when she died. They have been with her every summer. She felt that she did more for her children in holding high above them the womanhood of their mother than by sacrificing it to them. And in her life, the tragedy was that it became necessary to choose the one or the other. The circumstances before and after we came here to live among you have all been falsified and vulgarizedit is no use now to try to set them straightbut there was none of the cheap deception the evading of consequences that mark writhings from the obligations of the matrimonial trap. Nor did Mamah ever intend to devote her life to theories or doctrines. She loved Ellen Key as everyone does who know her. Only true love is free loveno other kind is or ever can be fee. The "freedom" in which we joined was infinitely more difficult than any conformity with customs could have been. Few will ever venture it. It is not lives lived on this plane that menace the well-being of society. No, they can only serve to ennoble it. It has sometimes been a source of annoyance to Mamah that one or two friends to whom she occasionally wrote persisted in reading a meaning between her lines that convicted her of an endeavor to seem happy, when they thought she ought not to be. I suppose when we live safe in the "heart of the block" we yearn to feel that in another situation than ourin circumstances we fail to understandthere must be unhappiness, or in circumstances of which we disapprovean "EXPIATION." This is peculiarly "Christian." Mamah and I have had our struggles, our differences, our moments of jealous fear for our ideals of each otherthey are not lacking in any close human relationshipsbut they served only to bind us more closely together. We were more than merely happy even when momentarily miserable. And she was true as only a woman who loves know the meaning of the word. Her soul has entered me and it shall not be lost. You wives with your certificates for lovingpray that you may love as much and be loved as well as was Mamah Borthwick! You mothers and fathers with daughtersbe satisfied if what life you have invested in them works itself out upon as high a plane as it has done in the life of this lovely woman. She was struck down by a tragedy that hangs by the slender thread of reason over the lives of all, a thread which may snap at any time in any home with consequences as disastrous. And I would urge you upon young and old alike that "Nature knows neither Past nor Futurethe Present is her Eternity." Unless we realize that brave truth there will come a bitter time when the thought of how much more potent with love and action that precious "Present" might have been, will desolate our hearts. She is dead. I have buried her in the little Chapel burying ground of my peoplebeside the little son of my sister, a beautiful boy of ten, who loved her and whom she loved muchand while the place where she live with me is a charred and blackened ruin, the little things of our daily life gone, I shall replace it all little by little as nearly as it may be done. I shall set it all up again for the spirit of the mortals that lived in it and loved itwill live in it still. My home will still be there. Frank Lloyd Wright Many architects, including myself, are designers, good at math and logic, but we are also writers. One reason is that architecture school encourages that introspection, the examination of your concepts, your inspiration, and to answer questions like to what do you aspire. The servant may have felt he was back in the slavery days. Who could blame him for feeling upset? But to translate that into murder is just evil. Attempting to burn people to death and them axing them to death instead is pure evil. FLW never married this murdered woman because the wife (and 6 children) he left would not give him a divorce. He had no motive to kill her and the others at Taliesin.

Plants can be amazingly resilient; do give these a chance. If leaves are badly damaged, as in your fifth photo, go ahead and remove and destroy (don't compost) them, as they probably don't have enough chlorophyll-containing tissue to contribute to the upkeep of the plant. However, there is no need to remove the leaves if they still have a lot of undamaged tissue - just squish the borers inside the tunnels in the leaves; you might even be able to see them if you look closely. I know, yuk, but it's them or your zukes! Besides, that's what garden gloves are for, and they're inside the leaves anyway. I trust you made drainage holes in the bottom of that bucket; if not, you need to do that now. Be careful with the Epsom salt; don't over-do. The only yellowing I see in your photos is on heavily infested leaves, and may be a by-product of that infestation. On another social media site, someone shared a site with multiple charts illustrating how plants exhibit nutrient deficiencies. I'm posting it below in case Prof. Google hasn't already shared this one with you. (By the way, I've not had a chance tor review this yet myself.) http://bigpictureagriculture.blogspot.com/2015/12/plant-nutrient-deficiency-leaf.html Looking forward to more photos and wishing you the best of luck ... I've not even planted my zuke seeds yet! Heeled in some tomato plants in that spot and they appear to have taken over.

Kim, That sort of pre-investigation can be close to stalking and makes me uneasy. I think people should have a right to privacy, but in today's social media and media world, that privacy is almost impossible to maintain. It drives me stark raving mad when people post photos of their new lawn furniture or new, fancy TV or new vehicle all over social media and than are stunned when their new items are stolen just days later. Duh. Maybe they shouldn't post photos of their lovely new things to show them off. Criminals love using social media to find stuff worth stealing and everyone who uses social media needs to understand that! A person may know who their FB friends are, but that doesn't mean they know who all the friends of their friends are. Melissa, You've seen my grow lists. Clearly I fail at figuring out what not to grow, so I just grow it all. It is funny. When I pick green beans, for example, there might be green beans in the bucket or basket I use while gathering the harvest, but there's also purple, yellow, pink and bicolored bean pods most years. It used to drive one of my old farmer neighbors insane. He'd rant and rave about it and ask me "why don't you grow the right things", meaning only red tomatoes, only yellow corn, only green beans, etc. He was very much a traditionalist and really wasn't my favorite person, but I always tried to be kind and respectful anyhow. Now, get everything cleaned up and start those seeds. I'm already at the point where the light shelves are getting full enough that soon I'll be moving plants to the greenhouse. It is kinda early, but I started early, so now I just have to keep moving plants out so I can start more. My parents never locked their doors either. After a female classmate of my sister's from high school was murdered (I think it was the year after they graduated from high school) in her rental home a couple of blocks away from my parents house in the mid-1980s, my parents finally began sort of half-heartedly locking their front door because we kids insisted they lock their doors. Half the time, though, they didn't lock the back door! I tried to explain over and over how this made no sense at all. They didn't get really good about locking their doors until at least the mid-90s. When we were shopping for land here around 1997, we stopped at the courthouse to look at an aerial photo they had on file of a land parcel we were looking at. I noticed that people would park at the courthouse in Marietta, leave their keys in their vehicles with the engine running and the doors unlocked. I was astonished! Of course, their vehicles were sitting right there when they came out of the courthouse. About the only thing they had to worry about was that if it was summertime, someone might leave a bag of squash or zucchini in the back seat of their vehicle. Nowadays, folks don't leave their vehicles running in town like that any more. Also back to gardening, my list involves growing plants. Lots and lots of plants. And, on a non-gardening note, RIP to Mary Tyler Moore. In my mind, she'll always be young and tossing her cap into the air just like she did at the beginning of her show. Dawn