Love for independent local florists: Astrantia meets alstroemeria

Astrantia is a darling of English cottage gardens.

I fell in love with the plants from afar when I saw a photo of the flowers used as a companion plant for roses by English rosarian and  landscape designer Michael Marriott. 

At the time, I could not find one website outside the UK or Holland that had the plants for sale.

So I was delighted earlier this month to see them as cut flowers at a friend's flower shop. Lisa Mohn of Apple Blossom Flower Shop in Scotch Plains wrapped up a generous bunch of the flowers, and I paired the maroon astrantia with pink alstroemeria for this naturalistic arrangement. I happened to have ribbon in the same color as the delicate blossoms, some hanging in lovely clusters on curved limbs.

I have been enjoying these flowers for more than a week, changing the water every few days. They still look fantastic and new buds are opening to show off their gorgeous, swirling centers that also have numerous tiny stamens that look like pins in a cushion. Finding flowers I don't see in every supermarket bucket keeps me going back to neighborhood flower shops, which have managed to stock exciting floral options despite the pandemic. Thank you, Lisa!

If I'm ever able to find astrantia to plant (White Flower Farms sold out of a white variety offered online this year), there appear to be a variety of choices in both color and flower shape. The unusual, long-blooming perennial is said to attract beneficial insects to its blossoms in silver, white, maroon, rose or rosy-red. It grows up to 3 feet tall and blooms outdoors from May through July in full sun to partial shade.

They are also known as masterwort, and according to the University of Wisconsin, they are related to carrots! They're native to mountain meadows, grasslands or woodland clearings, and found along streams in Europe and western Asia.

The family life of birds: upcoming talk at Wild Birds Unlimited, Scotch Plains

Young robins, nested in an evergreen tree, open their beaks to be fed. Photo by Kimberly L. Jackson Any observer of wildlife and nature has likely wondered about differences in the nests of various birds. Those who've had an active nest within viewing range will often want to know more about the family life of birds.

A free event at Wild Birds Unlimited in Scotch Plains will shed light on what goes into caring for young birds. At 10 a.m. on March 14, store owner Richard Elliott will present "Bringing Up Birdie," a discussion of bird parenting, the life of nestlings, and "the joys of following the fascinating, swift growth of baby birds from eggs in the nest to fledglings making their way in the world outside."

Nesting season has become a favorite time of year for Elliott, who will share the excitement that can come with watching birds raise their young to independent teens in a matter of weeks. He will also share tips and tricks to make the observation experience more rewarding, and he'll also suggest ways to encourage birds to nest in one's own backyard.

Those interested in attending any of the Wild Birds Unlimited in-store presentations are asked to RSVP by email at wbuscotchplains@gmail.com. Check the events listing at scotchplains.wbu.com to learn more about the nature shop's frequently scheduled events. 

Wild Birds Unlimited is at 2520 Highway 22 East in Scotch Plains.

'This is not the Star-Ledger': Reflections on 20 years with NJ's largest newspaper

The old Star-Ledger building, bordered by Washington and University on Court Street in Newark. I confess that I previously wondered how I might climb on a planter to pry off and keep a small metal sign that read "One Star-Ledger Plaza." I didn't do it, and now it's gone. On the night of Nov. 24, 2010, I left One Star-Ledger Plaza with a box full of keepsakes representing my 11 years and 8 months of working as a journalist from the gray, rectilinear building at Court and University streets in Newark. 

I got into my car that night -- on the eve of Thanksgiving -- with a feeling of hopefulness about the future. I had taken a buyout, and I had big plans. I had no idea then that my plans would mesh with enough years of freelance work that I would have a Star-Ledger byline -- in print --  to mark the 20th anniversary of my March 22, 1999 start date.

That byline appeared with the bittersweet knowledge that my work with New Jersey's largest newpaper would come to an end in a few week's time. I was informed in January that the home renovation column that I had written on a mostly weekly basis for about 8 years would be eliminated with the latest round of budget cuts. 

I left the paper in 2010 with the title of "lifestyle editor," which meant I was responsible for selecting the  paper's home, garden and food content. At a time when many of the paper's editors didn't write articles, I chose to be a "contributing editor" in the active sense of being an on-staff section editor who also kept sources, did interviews and attended trade shows on my own time to write stories and keep on top of news and trends. It is work I still enjoy and seem somehow suited for.

The walk to door of the old Star-Ledger building in March 2019. That work continues with At Home New Jersey, and I am so pleased to have cultivated a loyal readership over the years since the first issue appeared in March 2012.  At Home has been produced consistently every other month since then as my personal effort to keep local lifestyle journalism alive in print. Granted, this isn't news that on its face can change the world, and I don't aim to do so.

I do hope, however, that in some small way the selection of printed articles has helped improve life for individuals and families with its focus on nutrition, relaxing activities and attention to physical and mental health. 

I remain thankful for the many good things that have come my way as a result of my time at Court and University streets in Newark. The paper sold the building, and the staff moved to new buildings in September 2014.

I have checked in periodically to see what the old building was to become. I remember a few years back seeing a yellow construction permit adhered near the door I had entered for so many years to climb the stairs to the second-floor newsroom. The permit didn't give much of a clue about what was to come.

When I returned during my anniversary week in March, it was to a building with a completely transformed interior. Outside the entry door was an emphatic sign: "This is not the Star-Ledger newspaper."

Apparently, I still have a face that is honest enough to open doors, and so the young woman at the desk of what is now the chic, white-washed lobby of the arts organization Crozier, buzzed me into the access-controlled area. She sat where Fran the receptionist used to sit, but gone was the glass window and the booth where Fran and the rotating crew of retired Newark police officers who were our security guards used to sit.

In place of the glass case that had held the paper's awards and trophies of accomplishment there was a black and white graphic painting above a small table and two chairs. It was a vignette that could easily have been put together by the paper's former art director, Pablo Colon, who in the building's last days as the newspaper's headquarters dabbled in commercial interior design to polish up several areas. 

A seating area in the place where a case filled with the paper's awards once stood."I used to work here when it was the Star-Ledger," I told the young woman who granted me access to the building. I asked her about the building's present function, and she told me that Crozier is an arts organization affiliated with museums and other groups, and that the building is used mostly for storage, but people do work there. "This is not the Star-Ledger," she said, obviously not hearing my introductory statement and figuring I had not read the prominent sign to the left of the entrance.

"I know," I said. "I used to work here when it was the Star-Ledger." With that I thanked her for letting me in and turned to leave. "Are you a journalist?" she called out after me. "Yes," I said.

What it means to be a journalist has changed so much since 1999, but I still have the requisite curiosity, and so I had to find out what was going on across the street with the extensive expansion of what used to be the Star-Ledger parking garage. When I started working there, I was so happy to be able to park freely in that garage. We could even park there to take a cab -- or the bus (thanks for the money-saving tip, Fred Kaimann) -- to Newark Airport, which is just a few minutes away. (At my previous, smaller paper in Pennsylvania, we actually had to pay to park in the paper's garage, which we needed to do to work in a downtown area.)

The former Star-Ledger parking garage, updated in a major way. The old Star-Ledger garage was still there, but the top level was curiously enclosed within a heavy wire cage. Next to the garage, what had been an outdoor parking area was now home to a towering yellow and white structure, which I estimated to be four stories tall. On a rainy day, I photographed the building, still unsure of its purpose.

On the Court Street side, there was a sign in one window: "High School Students Entrance." As I photographed the building, I saw nearby doors open. Youngsters who looked to be high-school age poured out. I went across the street and began to question one young man who answered me quietly and apprehensively. "Is this a high school?" It was. What high school? "North Star," he answered.

As the corner filled with a crowd of students ending their school day, I made my way through them to the building's main entrance on Washington Steet. I went to the door and rang the bell. I was looked over and granted entry. I asked the two staffers behind a glass window about the school.

Over the years in previous visits, I had watched the steel beams that support it rise. I figured it was being turned into a larger parking garage. I always meant to check into that, but with busy days, I always forgot to do so.

I learned that the school, which serves kindergarteners through 12th graders, opened in August of 2018. I asked about the parking garage. "Is it used only for parking?"  I was told that in addition to parking, there is now an athletic field on the top level of the garage.

A school, North Star Academy, grew up from the open parking lot outside the garage. I visualized the stairs up, and the door leading to this deck where Star-Ledger staffers in years past had joyfully celebrated spring with the help of the Malcom X Shabazz High School band.

For years, the band would march around the block following a wheeled cart that pushed the oversized hot dog and bun that would top the Munchmobile. The procession streamed into that same garage, and on the top level met staff and the smell of smoke from grills that charred hundreds of hot dogs in honor of the Munchmobile launch.

I always seemed to be on deadline on Munchmobile Day, but I never minded putting calls on hold for the ear-splitting spectacle of a high school band marching through a working newsroom. It was one of the things that made me really love working at the paper. But things change.

"So that's why the top is closed in?" I asked the school staffers, "to keep the balls in?" That is the reason. They told me that the field is used for gym classes and for track practice, basketball, soccer and other sports.

Perforated metal panels cover concrete areas of the old garage.  NorthStar Academy is a part of Uncommon Schools, a network of charter schools with campuses in Newark as well as in Camden, Boston, Brooklyn, and other areas of New York. According to the Uncommon Schools website, there are 53 related schools educating 19,000 students from kindergarten through high school.

I'm happy that an open lot that once made parking spaces for journalists with a mission to keep the public informed gave way to a building that seeks to educate and prepare young people for adult life and responsibilities.

From a design standpoint, I love the way they tied the old garage to the new building. Perforated metal panels, painted yellow and white to match the building's facade were installed on the University Street side to soften the walls of the gray concrete garage. The previously black railings for the stairs leading to different levels of the garage are painted yellow, the only apparent alteration to the glass staircase enclosure that looked so otherwise unchanged that I was tempted to test my old access card. Instead, I got out of the rain and into my car to head home. But not before taking one last shot.

The path to the gas station, Ward's, The Ark (now Brick City Deli), Queen Pizza, banks, Newark Penn Station, Military Park and points beyond.

Happy Valentine's Day: What's happening to the flowers?

Where have all the flowers gone?

All of my loved ones know that the best way to make me happy is to take me with them to pick out my flowers for Valentine's Day or birthdays or whenever.

Since arranging flowers is a hobby of mine, I always want something different to play with. And not everyone knows what flowers would please someone picky like me who is always looking at all sorts of them. I routinely visit florist friends, even when I don't plan to buy, just to talk with them about what's in their cases.

For years, Wegmans stores in many parts of New Jersey were my favorite place to shop for flowers. Wegmans would routinely have unexpected varieties. About 10 years ago, I would buy flowers every week, and I discovered safflowers at Wegmans in Woodbridge. Who knew that a name  associated with salad oil is also related to a gorgeous flower? The flowers and plump buds with soft, thistle-like tops, dried to a paper-bag brown on tall stems. I still have them, and I have not seen any anywhere since.

More recently in 2017, I got the most beautiful Valentine's Day flowers: bright pink scabiosas from another Wegmans store. It was a delight to watch these flowers, actually clusters of miniature blossoms, open in layers. I've since learned that scabiosas are easy to grow in the garden, but I saw them for the first time in a water-filled plastic flower bucket at Wegmans. I'm always excited to find cut flowers that I have never seen before, and Wegmans was a reliable supplier in that regard.

Not so this year. This year, the Wegmans store we went to had hundreds of bouquets, moved to the front of the store near the entrance as an apparent reminder to Valentine's Day buyers.

In all the rows of this display, there were so many bunches of common flowers. Roses that looked battered and too far open to last until Valentine's Day, along with spider mums, alstroemeria and the other sorts of flowers that always seem to appear in mixed supermarket bouquets.  The prices for these tired flowers was high, starting at $25. I refused to let money be spent on my behalf for inferior flowers whose quality did not warrant the higher price. Wegmans typically does not sell mixed bouquets in plastic sleeves. Instead, their mixed arrangements are most often sold in vases at various sizes. Clusters of one  type of flower, in bundles of a single color, are what's usually available. 

I tend not to like mixed bouquets, but at Trader Joe's on Monday this week, the "mini bouquets" at $3.99 each caught my eye. Three of these were purchased for me, and I put together the arrangement shown. Each had calla lilies, which I adore, tufts of refreshing green dianthus, sprays of small red and hot pink roses, and the exciting contrast of purple statice. In these arrangements, I did not mind the alstroemeria, which complements the other flowers. Don't get me wrong, alstroemeria is a lovely flower, but it's everywhere. I can usually get lots of them in good shape for about $4 at any ShopRite.

Anyway, I cut the stems relatively short and tucked them into a little red vase previously rescued from a thrift shop. (It still had the .99 cents price tag). I have been filled with happiness each time I pass these flowers in their red vase. 

On the day before Valentine's Day, and even tonight at 7 p.m. when I made a quick supermarket run, it was sad for me to see men grabbing up uninspired bouquets at the very last minute. I wondered about their wives or girlfriends, and I wondered about their lives. Getting flowers that were obviously purchased hastily out of a sense of obligation doesn't seem very romantic.

Is it the afterthought that counts here? Perhaps.  I suppose any flowers at any time are better than no flowers at all. 

New Jersey wild turkeys: a Thanksgiving delight

Four wild turkeys were among a gang of eight visiting a wooded area of Monmouth County on Monday.I was pulling into the driveway of our art director's Monmouth County studio yesterday when I saw a cluster of huge birds crossing the road.

“Turkeys!” I shouted with excitement as I parked haphazardly, grabbed my camera and ran  into the woods after them. They did not look exactly like the fancier wild turkeys I used to see behind my house when I lived in a wooded area of Pennsylvania, and I was not sure if they were turkeys or turkey vultures (an image search would later solve that). Either way, I knew I had to get shots of them.

I found the birds, eight of them, feasting amid the fallen leaves. I followed them quietly and cautiously, using a zoom lens to get my shots. As this gang of birds roamed from place to place looking for the choicest fall eats, I inched closer and closer. At one point I was standing as still as I possibly could while taking photos, and they were near enough that I could have reached out and grabbed one.

I thought, maybe the presence of turkeys at this time of year was why the pilgrims were said to have feasted on turkey. Then I began to ponder how I would have no idea how to go through the processes that would be required to get a living turkey from the woods to oven-ready. The thought made me thankful for present-day Thanksgiving where others relieve us of such thoughts when they prepare turkeys to be seasoned, stuffed and roasted.

Who could harm a bird with such beautiful plumage, so lush and intricately patterned? I could not imagine hunting them, and I pushed back guilty visions of one plucked and cooked as the centerpiece of the Thanksgiving meal. These probably weren't Thanksgiving-type turkeys, anyway, I rationalized. And they'd probably taste gamey.

A wild turkey moves in close to eye me suspiciously but without fear.Their faces and long, graceful necks were disturbed by numerous pink globular growths. In my image searches online, their long necks would differentiate them from the apparently no-neck turkey vulture.

As I admired the unusual elegance of these birds, they came closer, and that actually made my heart sing. “Oh, hello!” I said to them quietly as I continued to take close-range pictures. Then they started to make turkey sounds, and the experience was heightened.

Years ago, I was in the chamber where lions were kept at the Philadlphia Zoo. While I was walking through, one lion began to roar. It was a powerful, awe-inspiring noise that no recording could ever capture. Within that room, the sound reverberated. I felt so fortunate to have been there at that moment. I had been to many zoos and seen lions in most of them. But to hear one speak made a rare and unforgetable moment.

I have mixed feelings about animals in capacity (especially when I recall from the same Philly Zoo visit the madrill who was pacing around his room and glaring at those who observed him through a window. There was what could only be characterized as rage in its colorful, expressive face that seemed so close to human.)

But in the woods, with a camera, there were no ethical issues to contemplate. I was so happy to have spent time seeing and hearing these turkeys in this week of Thanksgiving. Their presence was another small joy to be thankful for.