Indianapolis Museum of Art Blog

I just realized the date for this blog is 08-08-08. Three 8’s. Eight is one of my favorite numbers. If I could skate it would be great if I could make a figure eight. When I doodle I often make eights. You really needed to know all that didn’t you?

I recently attended the annual Perennial Plant Association Symposium held this year in Philadelphia. The first PPA Symposium I attended 14 years ago was in Philadelphia. And 17 years ago I did a one year internship in Philadelphia at the Morris Arboretum. My advisor at Purdue, Dr. Harrison Flint, said everyone in horticulture should spend some time in the Delaware Valley and since there were no job prospects it was a no-brainer as the young kids say. This is an area rich in horticultural history and filled with public gardens anyone even mildly interested in gardening should visit. Just as importantly, the profession of horticulture is respected in a way still not found in the Midwest. Of course, they have one or two hundred years on us. So it may take a few more months for us to catch up.

Read the rest of this entry »

Well now. Who hasn’t screamed those words? Maybe at a parent that wouldn’t let you go out Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night?

“There’s nothing I could do Sunday night that I couldn’t have done Friday night and twice Saturday night. You’re ruining my life. I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” Door slams.

Or maybe at a brother or sister that never brought the car back by 2 like they promised so you could go to the big away game. The bus left at 2:15 and they brought the car back at 2:45.

“You knew I needed the car by 2. You stayed late at Kathy’s just so I would miss the bus. I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” Door slams.

Or maybe at someone you spent 18 months dating thinking all was going well until one day instead of “I love” you it’s “I do love you, in my own way.”

“In your own way? What the hell is that supposed to mean? In your own way?! I gave up a spot on ‘So You Think I You Can Dance’ because you couldn’t stand to be apart. Why don’t you go love the grill of a big red truck in your own way? I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” Door slams. Hopefully on his snotty-assed nose.

Enough about people. What about plants? Read the rest of this entry »