The Capricious Gardener

Bees

2006-06-10T19:01:00.000-07:00

I wish The Spouse hadn't taken the camera with him to a party. I wish Blogger was letting us upload pictures. If both of these wishes came true I could show you pictures of very busy bees. I have a lot of creeping thyme in the front rose beds as groundcover. I love it because it spreads all over (I pretty much have a carpet of it in one bed now, off of maybe 6 tiny original plants). Weeds grow up through it but they are easy to pull and the thyme is very forgiving.

Right about now the thyme is in full bloom, thousands and millions of teeny purple flowers all over the place. And the bees are wild for them. I was weeding today (seemed appropriate as it's been, what, 3 weeks?) and it was a little precarious. The bees were everywhere and they were humming like mad. It was quite noisy, down there on my knees. And precarious. Before I'd pull a tuft of crabgrass or a sprig of dandelion I'd sort of wave my hand over it first, a little "Hey, I'm coming" kind of warning to the bees. They'd fly up and move over, I'd pull the weed and then they'd fly up and settle back where they'd been. It was all very cooperative and civilized but I kept thinking about the time at a cocktail party when a bee stung me right above my wedding band. That wasn't pleasant.

Anyway, inbetween pulling weeds I was watching the bees, their legs fat with dark orange pollen. It was something to see. And me without a camera.

Tomatoes

2006-06-03T22:58:00.000-07:00

It has been raining steadily since June began. Which is typical. This morning dawned bright and fair, however so The Neighbor and I went off to Fremont Gardens to buy tomato plants.

Of course, Fremont Gardens being the sort of seductive nursery that it is I also bought 2 Anaheim peppers, 3 basil plants and some little petunia-like flowers for a pot that lives on the front porch.

Anyone who gardens knows that a tomato grown yourself tastes nothing like a tomato purchased in a store. It doesn't matter if the tomato is an organic heirloom variety...if it has been in a truck and on a shelf for any length of time it is not going to have that essence that a tomato lover lives for.

I used to grow my tomato from seed. The only problem with that was that I had way more plants than I could put into the ground. I'd have dozens and dozens of plants to give away. Plus, there would only be a couple of varieties.

I have a small kitchen garden. I don't need 20 roma plants. So I started buying tomato starts (from Fremont Gardens...always) and have been very happy with the results (when I remember to water and generally tend to the plants).

This year's varieties:

Purple Cherokee (I do love the darker varieties of tomato)
Green Zebra
Bloody Butcher (what the fark kinda name is that for a tomato? It just screamed "Plant me!")
Sweet Million (a cherry tom...'cause you gotta have at least one)

I also planted some basil because tomatoes love basil and I do, too.

This was a Cat Weekend for us...but plugging a few toms into the gorgeous black earth of the potagers didn't seem like work. Plus, the gardens immediately began to look fruitful, even though everything else buried therein is a few weeks away from popping.

Dig the completely groovy curved bamboo that I found for staking the tomatoes. I usually just plug in a straight stick and tie them up as they grow. These curvy beauties will act as tomato cages but look far more cool in the process. I dig them.

Garden Babies

2006-06-01T07:07:00.000-07:00

Growing up on the farm we had a lot of fruit trees: apple, pear and fig. We had a small grape arbor and tons of blackberries which were not exactly cultivated but hedges of them were tolerated. (We also had a stand of filbert trees...what everyone calls hazelnuts nowadays...but they were wormy and I don't remember ever eating them. They were fun to play with, though).

Living in the city it is a little more challenging to grow fruit in any quantity but I have my columnar apple tree (I forget what variety of apple it is...it's good for pies because it's not too sweet and has firm flesh) and my table grapes. I planted the grape stock our second year in the house and one in particular, "Vanessa" has done extremely well. 2 years ago I had so many grapes that I was able to make 6 pints of jelly (the most gorgeous pinky-lavendar color you ever saw with a delicate grapey-flavor) in addition to all the grapes we just ate out of hand. Last year, because I had that watering lapse, we got exactly 2 bunches of grapes. (Likewise, we only had 2 apples). I think that was when I realized how neglectful I'd been. I was very sad.

But, as is the way of nature, both the apple tree and grapevines have forgiven me. They are bursting with potential fruit and are greenly confident that I will not turn my back on them this year. They promise, if I care for them, to provide apples for the Autumnal Feast and plenty of grapes for jelly and winemaker's cake. I will not let them down.

At Last

2006-06-01T06:55:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, just before we tipped from May to June, I got the kitchen potagers planted.

In the first bed there is Japanese eggplant (which I should have started indoors and didn't so it's going to be a total crap shoot whether anything happens there), garlic and French beans. Mesclun is planted in the garden pot. I've found that to be a very easy way to do the "cut and come" again business. Mostly because it keeps me from growing too much. If I remember to add fresh seed every couple of weeks we should have fresh lettuce well into October.

I'll put tomatoes in behind the garlic; I'm thinking I'll get to Fremont Gardens for my plants on Friday.

The second potager has radishes in the pot (an experiment), mult-colored beets in the front center, 3 hills of a round variety of zucchini that is really yummy and cute, with fava beans planted on either side of the bed. I love fresh favas, assuming I can control the black aphids, who also love them.

It was just starting to sprinkle as I was putting in the seeds and then it rained nicely in the evening. So everything is watered in by Mother Nature. Now I just have to move the hose out of the garage and remember to water all my new plant babies. And this is key because last year, for some completely indefinable reason, I didn't water my garden much. The grapes shriveled on the vine, most seeds failed to sprout. We didn't even have mesclun. Mesclun! A toddler can grow mesclun. Proper watering will be key to success this year. I must not slack!
Also, I must keep The Dog from thinking that what I've really done is give him a new playground.

Progress

2006-05-12T19:02:00.000-07:00

This, you recall, is what one of the potagers looked like on Monday:

This is what it looks like now:

I also cleaned up the herb bed:

One more potager to go. I think I'll get it done tomorrow.

(I suspect, upon looking closely at the middle photo that The Neighbor wouldn't mind if I mentioned that when she puts the 2nd story on her house this summer she's also getting new siding. In case you were wondering).

The Bloomin' Month of May

2006-05-12T18:39:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, in the middle of all the cleanup, you have to ignore the weeds and celebrate the fact that so much is beginning to flower.

The climbing rose has been smiling blooms for a few days now. But sweet as they are, the roses I wait for are the ones that were given as house warming gifts when we first moved in. Each year I look forward to seeing who will bloom first, "Heritage", "Just Joey" or "Gertrude Jekyll".

This year, by a bud, it was Gertrude:

Snails

2006-05-08T16:35:00.000-07:00

Slugs thrive in the wet of the Pacific Northwest. There are treatments, of course, but most gardeners I know are resigned to the fact of these little pests and pay their annual tithe of bitten lettuce and hollowed out strawberries.

When I was in Nantes, France I was captivated by the fact that our hosts had snails in their garden. Snails are just as much a pest as slugs but they seem so much more civilized, perhaps because they have the decency to wear a shell. I collected two empty shells from that French garden, which I brought home as souvenirs. They looked exactly like the shells from which I had once or twice extricated escargot in very fine restaurants and so seemed to me a decidedly French symbol.

I kept my French snail shells on my kitchen window sill for about a year, then I put them in a small jar. I like the look of them. Now, I don't know if it was just the existence of those shells or the fact that I began (because I'm extremely affected and like all things French) to refer to my kitchen garden as "potagers" but I no longer have slugs in my garden. I can't remember the last time I saw one. I do, however, have snails. I don't know if this is some sort of region-wide ecological advancement or just some sort of magie francaise but it certainly is an improvement.

I am confirmed in my view that snails are far more attractive and civilized than slugs. You can nip one off a pot or rock, toss it in a bowl of salt and never once say, "Eeewww". I have brown garden snails, like the lad above, who I met this morning. (I suppose I should say "him/her", as they are hermaphrodites). Turns out these are the culinary variety so if I were so inclined I could cook them up with some garlic, parsley and butter and snack away. I picked 4 this morning. Not quite enough for an appetizer. Actually, I don't know if I could bring myself to cook them. Escargot is the sort of thing I think I'd rather order out. But the ones I found are frothing in salt and when they've gone to their reward I will clean out the shells and add them to my collection.

Capricious? That's a Polite Word for What I Am.

2006-05-06T08:59:00.000-07:00

It occurs that perhaps I should retitle this blog. I'm tossing around a few ideas. "The Lazy Beyond Belief Gardener"? "The Clearly Doesn't Give a Rat's Behind Gardener"? How about "What? I Have a Garden"?

It is the 6th of May and I haven't planted anything in the kitchen garden. I haven't even turned the kitchen garden. And we have had glorious weather this week. It is clouding over today and may even rain tomorrow. Can you imagine? What if I had busted a move and planted my lettuce and zucchini and whatever else is hiding in seed packets? (I bought them in freaking February...it's not like I wasn't thinking about this at one point). What if I had remembered to water them each of these last warm days, then getting a reprieve from Mother Nature herself? And what if the sun and warmth returns next week? Bet there'd be little sprout babies everywhere. Real sprouts. Not vetch and crabgrass and whatever other weedy things currently holding court out there but all sorts of little veggie babies with the promise of summertime feasts hiding in their little green cells.

Thanks to global warming we have a fairly long growing season anymore. I can plant next week and no one will be any the wiser. But seriously, I have got to get a gardening schedule figured out.

Monday Before

2006-03-27T11:53:00.000-08:00

The weather is cooperating today and that makes me happy. Having munged out the bigger of my two front beds I am very inspired to take a whack at the little one. And there is nothing like photographic evidence and the instant gratification of before and after pictures for getting me inspired to continue my spring weeding efforts!

After

2006-03-26T16:42:00.000-08:00

It took about 2 hours. My fingers did get very cold. I'm not sure that the difference is all that striking to you but it looks a whole lot better in real life. The yard waste bin is about half full. Tomorrow, if it's not pouring rain, I'll tackle the other side of the walk.

Before

2006-03-26T12:46:00.000-08:00

The schizophrenic nature of March weather has made it impossible to get going on any garden projects. Yesterday I was lured outside by all the sunshine, only to come in 15 minutes later with fingers frozen solid. But the desire is there. And the front gardens are a reproach to me. Everyone else in the neighborhood is already mowing and mulching. I am nurturing a crop of dandelions. So even though today is not as sunny as yesterday was and even though I know I'm going to get cold and muddy, I am going to go try and make some sense of the mess out there.

Sweet Peas

2006-03-16T13:56:00.000-08:00

It is traditional to plant your sweet peas on St. Patrick's Day and for the first time ever I have remembered to a) purchase sweet peas and 2) start soaking them in anticipation of the day.

Who doesn't love sweet peas? They are so blousy and beautiful and the fragrance is gorgeously clean and well, sweet, without being obnoxiously cloying. I love having a bouquet of them in the house. Walking past and catching a whiff of them always makes me stop and offer up thanks for their sheer beauty.

The Spouse put the weeping Japanese cherry into the ground last weekend. I'm going to install a brick border around it to create a half circle perimeter then backfill the space, to the fence, for plantings. They'll need to be shade lovers for the long haul but at least for this season I'm going to put the sweet peas along the fence behind it. I can't wait.

The seeds I have are from Renee's Garden. They are both antique varieties - those seem to be the ones with the richest colors and loveliest scents. I'm planting "Queen of Hearts", which run the gamut from deepest burgandy to a white that, at least on the package, looks like tea-soaked linen. The other variety is "Royal Family" (I'm a sucker for royalty) and range in color from pink to purple. The vines grow to between 5 and 6 feet. I can only hope.

Spring has Sprung

2006-03-04T14:07:00.000-08:00

The last few days have been more or less spring-like. There was ice on the car windows yesterday morning and yet by 10 it was so warm that I turned off the heat. The crocus and daffs are starting to make brave appearances. The weeds are thriving.

This afternoon The Spouse went to Costco and came home with a weeping flowering cherry tree. It is de rigeur around here that folks plant their ornamental cherries on their parking strips. This does, admittedly, make for some lovely streetscapes. But I'm a selfish wench. I spend most of the day at my desk in the kitchen, with a view to the back garden. Which is a fairly bleak space. The cherry is going to be the start of changing all that.

There is a dream, which may well evolve into a plan, to do something spectacular to our back garden. This would first involve removing our deck, which is a carbuncle, and creating a terrace. I envision French doors instead of sliding glass and wide, sweeping steps to the terrace where people could perch on comfy outdoor pillows when the chairs are all taken. (There are other ideas, for an outdoor kitchen of sorts and a bread oven but I'll settle for the deck being gone).

The deck, besides being ugly, chops up the long, narrow space in a very unwieldy way. To the north is The Child's playhouse (which some year will be converted to a garden shed). To the south is a bit of lawn just the right dimensions for a boules court. Which we play in the summer and which we still want to be able to do. But it would also be nice to get to the north end of the garden without having to go all the way around the deck.

Plantings are relatively uninspired. There is some sort of tree growing at the extreme north end, which no one has been able to identify, but which isn't too tall, maybe 12 feet. At the south end of the deck I've planted a bed of my go-to plant, lavendar. There is a bay laurel in a pot and I try to remember to scatter nicotiana among the lavendar for maximum summer evening fragrance. And that's it.

Last fall I did a very clever thing. I got 3 bits of ducting which I positioned at intervals along the very ugly cyclone fence. I filled them with potting soil and planted 3 honeysuckle vines. They grew, to my surprise, throughout the winter and are already wending themselves through the fence. Every few days I go out and poke new growth through the links so that it will climb and spread all over.

The cherry tree will grow to about 12 feet so we've positioned it at the south end of the garden, in line with the Mystery Tree. It will interfere somewhat with our boules game but I'm sure we'll be able to work around it. More to the point, we'll gain a little more structure, some shade and the beauty of something where once there was nothing. Once the tree is in I'll think about some appropriate shade-lovers to plant around it to help soften up all the edges. I'm finally beginning to see my way to creating an outdoor "room" in back that looks less like a trailer park and more like a garden.

Northwest Flower and Garden Show

2006-02-12T18:27:00.000-08:00

My sister-in-law and I attended this annual celebration of all things gardenlicious on Friday. It seemed to both of us that there weren't near enough gardens. Lots of shops, though. Lots and lots. Which seems a waste to me since the only one I was interested in was Fremont Gardens, where I bought many packets of sweet peas.

The theme of this year's show was "outdoor rooms" and there were some stunning displays with pergolas, beautifully dressed tables and gorgeous outdoor lighting. It confirmed my view that we need to remove our back deck and replace it with a terrace. The deck cuts off the back garden and a terrace would allow for easier flow from one end to the other, as well as be infinately more attractive. I picture replacing our sliding glass doors with French doors that would open onto wide, poured concrete steps. These would be decorated with some containers and lots of pillows so that guests could actually use them as seating. Yes, a definate project.

I took the little garden notebook Rachael had given me and made a few plant notes. I fell in love with a particular type of Japanese maple, Acer Palmatum "Sago Kaku", which has rich burgandy colored bark. It would look spectacular in the winter, when everything around it is died back and brown. Similarly, there was a red ring dogwood which also had red bark and Nandina D. "Moon Bay", an orangy-red shrub in the bamboo family.

There was also a garden which used wide tubes of bamboo as faux fencing. There were clusters of the tubes, in varying heights, which were scattered along a path and at corners, hinting at definition without obscuring vistas. Each column of bamboo was planted with some sort of mossy thing in the top to soften the look. Very groovy idea and one I fully expect to employ in my front garden, assuming I can get my hands on some bamboo without sacrificing the college fund.

The other inspiring bit was being reminded that gardens need not be planted in a linear manner. Groupings of plants flowed into others. Moss, creeping thyme and camomile spilled out from between pavers and over edges. There was a garden that had a long swirl of primroses curving through a bit of grass. I expect that this year's sod turning will be dedicated to bowing out some of my very rigid rectangular beds, especially in the front garden.

The weather this weekend has been spectacularly spring-like. Not that I did anything about it. But I fancy that maybe, just maybe, if the weather holds, I will do some serious weed-clearing tomorrow.

Why I'm Doing This

2006-02-08T12:54:00.000-08:00

The Spouse expressed concern last night that I was spreading myself too thin starting a second blog. Here's the way I look at it:

My first blog, which you can link to any time you like, is very important to me. It gets my creative juices flowing. It's given me a little community of imaginary friends who I read and who read me. It provides fodder for other writing projects. It gives me a chance to search Google Images. It's fun. I love my little blog and am committed to it.

But I need a proper garden journal, too. Every season I get a new notebook to write important garden things, like seed lists. I draw garden plans which are out of scale, off kilter and bear no relationship to actual reality but provide a guide anyway. Every once in a very short while I will sketch something I see in my garden. Once I drew a cornichon that almost actually looked like a cornichon. But then, eventually, I leave the journal outside, the rains come and the book becomes soggy and useless. Which is sorta was to begin with. So one reason I started this blog is because it will take up less space than a waterlogged notebook.

The other reason, the more compelling one, is that I actually do a lot of thinking when I'm in the garden. It is a good place for metaphor and introspection. But my bloggy blog is just that, bloggy. While the ocassional rumination from the garden would not be out of place there, I doubt most of my readership would give a flying figlet about my hours in the jardin. This blog is a place to put all that without forcing it on anyone. If they want to come over here and read it they can but I really doubt they'd be interested.

In The Beginning

2006-02-08T11:17:00.000-08:00

When we first moved into our house there were no gardens. The place had been a rental for 18 years so it had low maintenance landscaping. Lots of yard, rhodies and evergreen shrubs. The only elements that were remarkable were a hydrangea that produces vivid blue flowers and a spectacular Japanese maple. The northwest corner of the lot was planted rather well with junipers and azaelas and those have remained. It creates a little "room" in front of the maple that is a very pleasant place to sit of a summer evening with a glass of wine and The Spouse. But essentially it was a blank canvas.

This suited me fine. I was ready to be landed gentry. I would watch "Martha Stewart" and find myself teary at the end of each episode. It wasn't that I wanted an estate in Connecticut. I just wanted my own little plot to work. Window boxes weren't cutting it anymore.

Some of the bones of the existing landscape worked for me but a great many shrubs and rhodies were pulled out that first spring. The Spouse was excited to have lots of lawn to mow, but I had secret designs on turning most of it into garden. (As the years have come on this is easier and easier to finesse. The charm of mowing has subsided).

The first plants to go in were roses. We received 3 as housewarming gifts: "Gertrude Jeykll" from my folks, "Just Joey" from Tim and Mike and "Heritage" from our old apartment neighbors (we called them "The Mertz's"). These were all installed in the north end of the front garden and the first bit of lawn disappeared.

John and Sandra gave us a mountain ash tree. The mountain ash, or rowan, is my favorite of all trees. They gave us a 3 year old, as that was the age of The Child at the time. They wanted the two of them to "grow up" together. This was ceremoniously planted on May Day, at the south end of the front garden. Over time a bed has been installed at it's base, mostly full of salvia and daisies.

The first year I urgently dug up a small bit of lawn outside of the kitchen and stuck in a few tomato plants and basil. In the second spring, however, we dug proper potagers, three raised beds outside the kitchen door. One has been taken over by the world's most prolific rosemary bush, some thyme and a columnar apple tree. The other two are for a revolving cast of vegetables. That same year we also put three raised beds on the north side of the house where I intended to have my cutting garden. I still adore the idea of a cutting garden. The problem is that I rarely made it over to that side of the house. The beds became mostly receptacles for weeds, maple seedlings and the stray cosmos or poppy. We eventually torn these beds down. When it comes to flowers I guess I'm more a border than beds kinda gal.

It didn't take me many years to figure out that I preferred to spend my energies on the kitchen garden and my roses. Thus, I've planted borders of lavendar, the praises of which I'll sing in another post, bulbs and other plants that do not require my undivided attention. I still envision more plant material, more form to my gardens. The front garden, which presents it's face to the world, is still entirely too linear. The back garden, where we spend all our summer hours, is still, after nearly 9 years, a shapeless void. There are three things which get in the way of my vision:

1) Our land. It is hard pack clay and rock. Breaking the sod is backbreaking pioneer work and then the soil must be amended and amended and amended again. I carve out a little more every year but I always stop short of the goal because it is just too damn hard!

2) Finances. I don't care how much money I have to spend, it is never enough to get all the material I want.

3) Will. I'm honest about this. I love the idea of a garden sometimes more than I enjoy the reality of making a garden.

In a world of woulda, coulda, shoulda, I don't want my garden to be yet another agent of guilt. I don't want to focus on the remaining empty spaces but on all the form and color that has been introduced. Because when I look at before and after pictures of our place, we've done a lot. It isn't award-winning, but it's a lot more interesting. And that should be reward enough. Most days, it is.

The Season Begins

2006-02-07T11:37:00.000-08:00

We have had one of the rainiest winters on record but this week has dawned nearly spring-like. There are three crocuses in the front garden and yesterday was warm enough that I could actually stomach the idea of pulling some weeds. The mud factor was huge and I wasn't really dressed for it so I stopped but there is a 4x1 foot strip in one potager that looks pretty terrific right now.

I like writing about my garden more than I like actually gardening. This time of year is all about the inspiration. The seed catalogs start showing up. The NW Flower and Garden Show happens. I'll fold down corners, make notes, snap photos and maybe even sketch, very badly, some ideas. The inspiration begats passion, a passion that might even last through March. Because dreaming is fun! So is planning and talking and planting. Mainenance, not so much.

One of my intentions for the new year was to be a better gardener this year than last. This will not be difficult. The bar is very low. And I thought that maybe, just maybe, blogging about it will make me more accountable. Let's see, shall we?