Garden Grit

March Bloom Day (Early)

2011-03-13T18:15:00.000-07:00

No 'long views' of the garden yet - a very cold winter and an overly enthusiastic annual pruning have left the garden looking like a plucked chicken.

Cuphea: Lovely in a terra cotta pot, it's tropical sunset colors are sparked by just a touch of purple.

Daffodils - true harbingers of springtime.

Aquilegia: Soft, butter yellow and creamy white petals set play nicely against the lacy, blue-green foliage.

Another pairing of pale yellow with lacy foliage - but very different in feel. These poppies are cherished in my garden - from the handfuls of seed I sow every year only a few bloom.

Pink freesia: Sweetly scented, pink with just a hint of lavender, it almost appears to be lit from within by a tiny yellow flame.

And finally, Geranium 'Bill Wallis'. From Annie's Annuals in the bay area.

Heat Wave

2010-10-02T19:03:00.001-07:00

After a cool and foggy summer, I assumed my beloved hydrangeas had made it through the season unscathed.

But a rogue heatwave clamped down on the South Coast last week; Monday morning the temperature was 80* in the shade, by mid-afternoon it had climbed to a scorching 107*.

Despite a thorough soaking just the day before, these blooms literally cooked on the stem.

Nothing to do now but cut them back, give them a heavy feeding of cottonseed meal mid- January, and pray for another long, cool spring next year.

However, "A Shropshire Lad" certainly enjoyed the last few days, along with "Flower Girl" and an unamed, heat loving aster.

Bloom Day - August 2010

2010-08-15T11:33:00.000-07:00

Who's ready for their close up?

Fremontia - or Fremontodendrum californica. I got this last month in a 1 gallon container and it was so overjoyed to be planted that it promptly burst into bloom - although it's normal bloom time is April! It replaces an old Austin rose 'Teasing Georgia'.

An unknown Abutilon. She's a little camera shy.

Dahlia from our local farmer's market. The 4 inch pot was $0.85 - that's less than a cup of coffee!

Purple 'Iceberg'. I loathe the white and pink ones - but this dusky color won my heart.

Lepechinia - a totally fabulous garden plant! Tolerates heat, dry soil, general neglect - and re-seeds with abandon. Just cut it back to the ground in January or you'll be looking at a leggy, tatty mess next summer.

An unknown salvia that's a much loved addition to the garden. It forms an enormous shrub with very light, silvery leaves. I've never seen another one quite like this - and believe me, I've looked.

Another favorite - Gaura lindheimeri. She looks best with some summer water - but plays so well with the other plants that she's totally worth it.

Hydrangeas

2010-08-14T11:07:00.000-07:00

One of the coolest, foggiest summers on record has left the roses mildewed and flowerless. The dahlias are sulking - also flowerless. Only the hydrangeas are happy, holding their ethereal colors several months later than usual.

Our local farmer's market offers a myriad of varieties in a 4 inch pot for only $5.00 - and although I'm rapidly running out of room in the garden their beauty continues to seduce me weekly.

We seem to have a real heat wave every year around the summer solstice - one missed watering at that time and the blossoms turn brown and crispy - never to recover. This year we were spared - the temperature on June 21st was 64*. Yes, that's summer in Southern California!

Then and Now

2009-05-17T18:57:00.000-07:00

Emboldened by chuck b over at my back 40 (feet) (http://back40feet.blogspot.com) and his wonderful post on his garden's transformation over the past several years, I've decided to share some before and after pictures of my backyard.

March 25, 2007. Two ancient, aphid infested orange trees were just removed from the center of yard, and finding myself baffled by the amoeba-like shape of the faux stone patio, I somehow had the idea that more meaningless curves would be a GREAT IDEA. The bare, concrete block walls are vaguely reminiscent of a prison yard. Note too, the spindly, struggling Eugenia hedge at the top of the photo.

June 15th, 2007: The flower bed is filling in a bit - but the walls are still incredibly barren. Note the pitiful, dark red dahlia tied firmly to the stake against the wall. It's almost like a firing squad!

June 23, 2008: The curve of the flower bed has been corrected, but if I had an extra 10k in my bank account that patio would be removed permanently. Note the cat, (far right) who after an exhausting day of doing absolutely nothing inside the house, has staggered outside to flop down in the sun.

April 2009: the walls are slowly being covered with Boston Ivy and a varigated Lonicera. The roses are beginning to bloom, and digitalis catch the late afternoon sunlight.

May Bloom Day (Early)

2009-05-12T20:18:00.001-07:00

I work with numbers. All day. Financial statements, cash flow analysis, complex, multi-page spreadsheets. There is something intensely soothing, satisfying, about numbers and how they all tie so beautifully together.

But at the end of the day, there is joy too, in the tumbled, messy glory of the garden at this time of year.

Breadseed poppy. Grown in partial shade, the color is softer, the flower more delicate than usual.

An unknown Austin rose. Planted several years ago, it is just now hitting it's stride, it's long arching canes covered with buds.

Digitalis 'foxy'.

Pat Austin - one of my favorites!

A Visit to Tim's Nursery

2009-04-27T20:22:00.000-07:00

No visit to Abigail would be complete without a trip to Tim's Nursery.

Nestled in the rolling hills outside Martinez, it's a very long drive down a winding country lane, past several very muddy horse pastures, a house with an amazing array of faded plastic flowers in front, and finally - this sign:

The nursery is flanked on one side by a truly amazing border, packed full of flowering trees, overgrown shrubs and tangled perennials.

The nursery itself is a complete jumble - and everything looks like it's been there forever: all the plants are rooted firmly into the mud.

With cries of delight we search through the tumble down shade house at the back of the nursery - hostas and astilbe and ferns are strewn around, pots splitting open, self seeding annuals everywhere. I unearth a perfectly gorgeous weigela in a 5 gallon can - for $12.00.

On this visit, I finally meet the mysterious Tim. When he hears that I've driven up from Santa Barbara he is silent, smoke from his cigarette curling up around his face. He finally says: (with absolutely no inflection) "That's a long way to come."

The very sweet Mario helps us load everything carefully into the car: trunk, backseat, floors - he tucks them in as tenderly as one would a sleeping baby.

A Vist to Annie's Annuals

2009-04-21T20:49:00.000-07:00

A horrifying 'sign of the times'? Well, this is definitely not hanging on Annie's front gate.

THIS is the sign that greets you when you arrive at Annie's - and you know right away, it's going to be a great experience.

And this: Right about now my heart starts beating a little faster.

Colorful demonstration beds, absolutely packed with annuals, perennials and California natives - all beautifully arranged and extremely healthy.

Instantly recognizable, Annie herself was there, working along side her staff. But just in case there was any confusion, this staff member makes a disclaimer:

The sales office: This year I brought along a carefully chosen list and a budget - but as always, the sight of all those lovely rarities overcame my resolutions and.....well.......it was SO totally worth it!

You can find them here: www.anniesannuals.com

A Visit with Abigail

2009-04-20T20:31:00.000-07:00

Abigail is on hiatus from the blog - we're hoping it won't be long before she's back posting again.

Meanwhile, a tour of her garden:

The gardens surround the house - cool and very green even in the mid-morning heat. Immense tree ferns shade the front porch, fuchsias and a pale blue polemonium (that I instantly covet) share space with the last of the season's primroses.

In the backyard, the garden looks far older than it's 22 years. Mature, flowering shrubs mingle with an absolutely enormous 'Cecile Brunner' rose. The rose has clambered far up into the oak tree and forms a solid backdrop of pale pink, scented roses.

Early morning sunlight illuminates the emerging perennials in the circular bed, and a small, pink flowering dogwood punctuates the curve of the border.

Groupings of weathered, terra cotta pots enhance the feel of age. Since her soil is a heavy clay, plants requiring sharper drainage (like these succulents) are happiest in containers.

Tools of the Trade: sprinkler and weeder lie neatly side by side.

As always, her garden is a source of both inspiration and envy. (I truly almost plant-napped that polemonium)

Tomorrow - a post about our visit to Annie's Annuals in Richmond!

Wildflowers at Chimineas Ranch

2009-04-13T20:26:00.000-07:00

Chimineas Ranch is a remote and beautiful area - just west of the Carrizo Plains National Monument.

The fawn colored hills are sere and seemingly barren - even in early April. But there are an amazing number of wildflowers spangling the bleached grasses, hugging the lean dry soil, clinging precariously to the steep, sandy banks.

I am fortunate to be in a group that is led by an extremely knowledgeable botanist. Quiet, unassuming, he leads us straight to the areas of greatest interest. At each stop people tumble out of the vehicles, notebooks and reference guides in hand. Plants are scrutinized, animated discussions ensue. More than once loupes are employed to examine pistils, stamens, the tiniest of pollen bearing anthers. At first self conscious (I have no loupe! No field guide!) I soon enter into the spirit of the day and in short order am flinging myself into the grass, camera clicking madly.

Fiddlenecks - Amsinckia menziesii

San Joaquin blazing star - Mentzelia pectinata.

Long beaked filaree - Erodium botrys

Blue Dicks - Dichelostema capitatum

Indian paintbrush - A Castilleja of some sort. (But I have no idea which, since I have no loupe! Or field guide!)

And finally, lupin in a dark and smokey color that absolutely sings against the taupe and grey of the native grasses.

Springtime

2009-03-22T17:26:00.001-07:00

For a variety of reasons this winter was particularly difficult - the state of the economy, family tribulations - and when I woke yesterday and realized it was the first day of Spring I felt like a marathon runner staggering across the finish line.

Several days of gentle, start and stop rain have washed the garden clean. The light is soft, clear, delicate.

To celebrate, let's see what's blooming!

A miniature tulip, unknown variety. I actually forgot that I'd planted these last fall - what a fantastic surprise when they finally bloomed.

Alonsoa - we've got a little 'color coordination' going on with the tulips.

Cistus. Translucent, shell pink blossoms belie it's tough, drought tolerant nature.

Iphion - a gift from Abigail. One day a rather small cardboard box arrived via UPS. I opened it with great anticipation. Carefully folded up inside were several Aristea (yes, the entire plants were just wadded up inside the box!) and a bunch of tiny Iphion bulb-lets. They are now my favorite early spring bloomers.

Magnolia 'viridiflora' - at least, that's what the hand lettered tag said when I bought the plant. The blossoms are creamy, velvety - highly scented with a boss of waxy, reddish gold stamens.

And finally, poppies. I usually toss handfuls of seed around right before our first Autumn rains. Some years I have a shimmering river of these along my gravel bank - this year, only a few precious blooms.

Flowers, Flowers, Flowers

2009-03-16T14:36:00.000-07:00

I'm just a flower girl at heart. The reason I slog away in the garden year after year is for the flowers. They never cease to amaze and delight me. This tree is at my sons former middle school. I've watched it bloom every year for about the last 10 years and every year it puts on this mixed color explosion of flowers. The darker pink is always randomly sprinkled amongst the light pink blossoms. I've never seen another tree like it.

These tulips start yellow and slowly turn orange. I love color variation. Iphion, oxcalis and the small purple flowered veronica are reliable late winter early spring color. At least here in California.

As are primrose.

I bought this poinsettia well before Christmas and it's still going. It even put on a couple of new leaves. Usually they look pretty ratty soon after the new year and I put them in the compost bin.
I missed bloom day yesterday but thought I'd post these flower pics. anyway.

Happy gardening

Boronia - A Gift for Abigail

2009-03-09T21:16:00.001-07:00

Abigail has a very sophisticated sense of color - coral, rust, gold, olive and sage green. In addition, her plant palette is is beautiful and unusual - and pushes the zonal envelope more than a bit!

So when I spotted this plant last week, I actually gave a little scream. I knew it was meant for Abigail. (I'll be visiting her next month)

But when I got home, I noticed something.

It looked absolutely fantastic with this:

And this:

And for a few moments, I actually considered planting it in my own garden. And when I showed up on her doorstep, sans Boronia, I would simply tell her it had died.

Fortunately, my better self prevailed: the plant will soon grace Abigail's garden - and she will no doubt come up with some splendid companions for it.

Late Winter Flowers

2009-03-07T21:00:00.001-08:00

This Tasmanian tree fern is jumping the gun a little I think. I hope it knows what it's doing.

It rained for most of February and the first week of March. I haven't yet read if we got enough rain and snow in the Sierra Mountains to alleviate our water problems here in the Bay Area, but the rain and now sun have brought out a lot of late winter blooms. This wasp looks like he's taking a nap in the Camellia blossom.

And, of course, the primulas are in full bloom.

This cymbidium but out three stalks of buds last fall and they're finally opening..

Nothing says spring time like daffodils.

Did I mention I love primrose? The hybridizers are doing a fine job with the colors these days. Soon the trees will be leafing out and the roses will be blooming and we will have made it through another winter.

Chartreuse

2009-03-01T14:04:00.001-08:00

Nine months of the year, the predominate colors in Southern California are muted, softened: olive green, silvery grey, buff, tan, gold.

The brilliant greens of springtime are fleeting - in dry years almost evanescent.

If the rains are early, by late November the meadows are emerald green, spangled with wild yellow mustard. But by late April the grasses are turning tawny-gold, the wildflowers withering under warm dry winds.

Chartreuse is a color I'm slowly adding to the garden; Physocarpus, Frageria, Heliochrysum - the colors are almost shocking under foggy March skies, but cherished never the less. The challenge is to keep the delicate leaves from burning under our relentless August sun.

Magnolia in bud.

The Mulch Wars

2009-02-15T19:47:00.000-08:00

Last spring I gave a little garden tour for some fellow rose lovers. The biggest reaction was over the huge pile of mulch that had just been dumped on my parking pad by a local tree service - "Don't the neighbors COMPLAIN about that?"

Well, no they don't - except for one gent down the street who is obsessed with the notion that the mulch is somehow running down the street, (a full city block) across the street, up a slight incline and then spreading itself all over his lawn. This is the man who parks his pickup truck on his lawn. Changes his motor oil in the driveway. But somehow, this mulch really drives him to distraction!

Mulch makes a lovely garden. It enriches the soil, moderates soil temperature, conserves precious water. In the last 6 years I've added literally tons of mulch to the garden - and a dozen or so truckloads of horse manure.

But on Friday the mulch phobic man struck again - and I was cited by the city for this. (Bear in mind, the mulch had been delivered just the day before - and would have disappeared in a week or so.)

It's certainly a lesson learned - not everybody views the world with the eyes of a gardener!

Renewal

2009-02-09T20:33:00.000-08:00

After a very warm, dry January we have finally gotten some rain although we are far short of our 'average' rainfall for the year.

Still, the garden (and the gardener) are delighted.

Hellebores unfurl their dusky, mysterious blooms, the 'Anna' apple tree is covered with a froth of pink and white - and a lone Alonsoa blooms bravely out of season.

Early Spring

2009-01-31T14:46:00.000-08:00

Last year spring came in February. The year before it came in March. This year spring is already here in January! It's 70* again and some of the roses are already leafing out! We also had spring-like weather for most of last November. Not that I'm complaining, but the shortened winter temperatures mean less rain for us and less snow pack in the Sierras so we are looking at water rationing. I'll have to let the lawns die and use water from showers to water some plants etc. Last week we had about 48 hrs of drizzle which watered the garden but didn't do much to fill the reservoirs or put snow on the mountains for later use.

Last year I put in a new rose bed. Well, I didn't put it in, my garden helper did. This bed is up against a 30 year old hedge and just on the other side of the hedge is a 50 year old sycamore tree. Both have tremendous root systems that would invade the rose bed and compete for water and nutrients so I decided to try putting the roses in these tubs. The tubs have large holes drilled in the sides, front and bottom, but not in the back. I'm hoping the rose roots will grow out the holes and into the deeper soil and hopefully the tree and hedge roots will not invade the tubs. I'm thinking about planting other plants in tubs around the garden because we have so many big trees in the yard and they suck up most of the water leaving the smaller plants gasping for more. I also will be putting more decorative pots around the garden so the trees can't get to the water used to water the plants in them.

Here is the bed today. I haven't finished under planting it. So far I've planted two geraniums, a variegated silene (s. dioica 'Valley High'), nigella, Vanilla Berry nasturtiums seeds and a plumbego. I also want to plant several lavender flowered erigeron (Santa Barbara Daisy). The lavender erigeron is hard to find though. I like the white flowered erigeron too but the lavender is such a good complement to the apricot and peachy pink roses.

'Flower Girl' - or the Easiest Rose, Ever

2009-01-26T21:40:00.001-08:00

Several people have commented on my previous post about cutting my roses back to the ground.

I should clarify: The only rose in my garden that gets that brutal treatment is a lovely but tough little shrub rose called 'Flower Girl'.

I got my original shrub from Otto & Sons in Fillmore, California. You can visit them here: http://www.ottoandsons-nursery.com/

When I started my new garden, I went back and got cuttings from the original shrub. Out of dozens of cuttings, only about 10 actually 'struck'.

The rose forms a graceful, arching shrub that flowers non-stop nine months of the year. The main problem was trying to prune without destroying the lovely shape. (The other drawback is that in our summer heat flowers fade to a hideous, bubblegum pink.)

Cutting back to the ground forces fresh new growth and preserves the delicacy of form that is so beautiful - and seems to maintain the apricot-gold color in the center of the flowers. (Of course, this only works on 'own root roses'.)

Companions? Equally tough oenethera and this gorgeous, drought tolerant grass, Melinis nerviglumis.

Pruning Everything!

2009-01-24T16:15:00.000-08:00

Relentless 50 hour work weeks and weekends spent hiking (which you can read about here: http://santabarbarasandstone.blogspot.com/) have put me way behind in my garden cleanup.

In past years I'd usually take vacation time to leisurely work my way through the garden, carefully pulling off each withered leaf, removing each tiny weed-ling from the gravel, feeding and mulching. One time it took an entire morning to 'edit' my grasses. Not this year.

Like some demented Edward Scissorhands I raced through the garden, hacking and chopping. Salvias, nepetas, fuchsias, roses - all cut to the ground. The rain softened soil yielded easily to my shovel, the sharp scent of bruised lepuchinia filled the air. Our neighborhood 'Lance Armstrong look-alike', who bikes up our steep hill every Saturday, rain or shine, barely warranted a glance.

Early rains and then an extended warm spell confused many of the roses. These were cut from 'Teasing Georgia' right before she too, fell victim to the pruners.

Spared were this white geranium and an abutilon - just too lovely to chop.

Pruning the Roses

2009-01-21T09:21:00.000-08:00

This last weekend I donned my opera gloves and went out and pruned the roses. This year it was 70* and dry so it wasn't the cold, wet chore it usually is. Every year I have to steel myself to go out and do this dreaded chore. Every year I swear, have an extra cup of coffee and go out and do my rose duty. Then I think of all fabulous flowers that pruning will bring forth and spring is just around the corner and it's not so bad. I guess I have about thirty roses in the back bed and 14 in the front bed. Here they are before I pruned.

And below are the sticks after pruning. It's hard to believe that in couple of months the fence will be barley visible and the bed will be a lush tangle of flowers.

Today the sky is cloudy and hopefully we'll get some rain. I'm not holding my breath, though. Maybe I should set a sprinkler. Sometimes that helps get the rain going. (Just kidding, of course.)

In the picture below there are a couple of dark spots in the tree where I think there might be squirrel nests. I'm not entirely sure about that but they have to go somewhere at night.

Bloom Day

2009-01-15T09:23:00.000-08:00

Well, here's what's blooming this January 15th. It's been about 70* for a few days now and no rain in sight even though it's usually our wettest month. It's been really nice for pruning the roses. Usually it's wet and about 40-45* in Jan. and the last thing I want to do is prune the roses.

A Forget-me-Not poking through the leaves. I'm leaving the leaves on the ground this year and putting bark or mulch over them to help retain moisture.

One of my favorite primrose. I love the way it changes from pale yellow to pink as it matures.

Another primrose...

And another...

The name of these is escaping me. (not unusual for me)

And more primrose.

This warm weather we're having is setting records all over the bay area.Even though I'm enjoying it, I hope it gets cold soon because the stone fruit and nut trees (in the central valley) need a good long chill in order to set fruit.

Resolutions

2009-01-06T21:14:00.000-08:00

Contentedly working in the garden last weekend, I suddenly became aware of two women walking by on the street above. They obviously hadn't seen me, since they were discussing ME. "Now, this one is a little strange. She likes everything in her garden all mished-mashed together. Not only that, but she doesn't like something - the color or whatever? She pulls it right up and sticks it out in the street. Then she starts all over. Very strange, if you ask me...." Their voices faded as they moved up the hill and I stood there, face hot, ears ringing.

Admittedly, if you made a pie chart of my brain most of it would be taken up by things botanical: shrubs, trees, flowers, birds. Last month's indulgence for myself was not a new handbag, not even a mani/pedi, but a big pile o' dirt. (Actually, it's a lovely redwood compost for planting, but for dramatic effect we'll call it dirt.)

And certainly I've rotated an inordinate amount of plants in and out of the garden over the past 5 years... but mish-mash? That stung. When I e-mailed Abigail for moral support her reply was "Eh, she probably plants her annuals on a grid" which made me laugh.

However, there is always room for improvement, and 2009 will be the year that I stop buying one of everything I see - and mostly, have more patience. It really does take time for a garden to grow.

A Few Pictures of Flowers to Tide Me Over...

2009-01-06T19:24:00.000-08:00

During winter I like to look back though the pictures of gardens past. Here are a few pictures I found... Digitalis thipsi and a lovely lilly...

Ah, some roses...

Hydrangea 'Ayesha'...

Alstromeria...

More alstromeria...

I love Dahlias...

The one below is 'Cafe au Lait'

A few beauties to warm the heart.

Later this year we may go on water rationing. While I would never ask for the challenge of keeping the garden going during water rationing, I intend to rise to the challenge (with some help from family members to carry the buckets of gray water). Nobody ever said gardening was a bed of roses!

Happy New Year!

2009-01-02T11:48:00.000-08:00

Mostly immune to the shopping frenzy that seizes most people this time of year, I can pass by the Nordstrom, Macys and Banana Republic sales without a second glance. I waver a bit outside Williams Sonoma and Sur La Table - but only momentarily. But god help me at the nurseries - especially during bare root season. The wooden bins stuffed with moist peat and bareroot roses, the bundled fruit rees, the end of season bulb sales.... I'm helpless.

Almost more enticing are the numerous seed catalogs that appear in my mailbox, promising a bounty of glorious, scented blooms for a relatively small outlay of cash.

I have several flats of plants left over from Abby's visit, still patiently waiting to be planted out, and an enormous bag of seeds from 2008 that I've not yet sown. And yet I continue to pore over the catalogs every evening, browse on-line, roam the nurseries - flushed of face, fixated on the score - a bona fide plant addict.

Into the Wild

2008-12-26T19:16:00.001-08:00

Waking late (unusual for me) I turn my back on the garden and all it's attendant chores and head out into the back country. It's a gorgeous day: cool, windy - and the clarity of the light is unbelievable.

First stop, a cabin in the woods: A warm and friendly smile greets me.

While fleece, gloves, hat, jacket and camera are being collected, I enjoy the view of the coastline from the back garden. Rough life, eh?

Almost more impressive is the well established lemon tree. Even in December it is loaded with fruit - real California gold.

We head over the mountains to the Santa Ynez Valley and Lake Cachuma. Cobalt blue, the water laps ceaselessly along the muddy shore.

Even well bundled up, the wind blowing from the San Rafael Wilderness is extremely cold. The wind brings with it the scent and feel of remote times and places, ancient lands. We cannot resist the Siren's song.

We head up to Figueroa Mountain - not really remote, certainly not wild - but beautiful nevertheless.
Grass Mountain: Not for the faint of heart, it's a quad-busting climb, especially near the summit. Don't do this hike on an 80 degree day with a triathlete friend - you'll regret it.

The colors are sere and faded - and as the afternoon slides toward evening the light softens even more, turning the dry grasses to platinum.

At last we head home, back over the pass, and the evening sky darkens to pink and lavender along the horizon.

Holiday color

2008-12-16T13:35:00.000-08:00

Scoff if you must, those of you who find poinsettias pedestrian and cliche, but I love them. The first time I saw poinsettias I was about 12 years old. There was a small Mexican market that we pasted one day. It was painted mango orange with cobalt blue trim and planted against the south wall were 10-12 six ft. high red poinsettias. It was a shocking combination of colors. When I was older and able to drive I would drive by just to see if they were still there. They were there for many years, but long gone now. My gardening friends roll their eyes when I put out the poinsettias, especially this pink variegated one.

Have to have a red one!

Ah, and a Christmas bouquet too.

The variegated leaves of this one go so well with the variegated ivy I just had to get it. I love any flowers that perk up the dull grey chill of winter. Happy Holidays!

A New Favorite Shrub

2008-12-07T12:55:00.001-08:00

I'm always on the lookout for the perfect shrub (for this area). A perfect shrub for me would be evergreen, 5' to 8', nice/interesting flowers and will reach it's height within 8 years. Am I asking too much? I have a few favorites-- several vibernums; unfortunately the flowering vibernums can't take our intense dry summer heat (IDSH) but the nonflowering vibernums do very well. The large xylosma and a couple of the pittisporums are nice too, but alas, no flowers.

Hydrangeas do pretty well for the most part and I love their flowers. But this H. Preziosa looks pretty scraggly by the end of summer. This picture was taken in early summer. The following picture shows a xylosma, vibernum japonica (top left to right) a white lace cap hydrangea, lime green hypericum and a variegated weigela (left to right). Also an agapanthus in a pot.

Most of the euonemus are too stiff and slow growing for me. Weigela's are my favorite deciduous flowering shrubs.

One of my favorite shrubs is camillia sasanqua. I like the sasanquas because of their informal shape and the flowers are so sweet. They are very slow growing though. I planted this one 15 years ago and it's just 7' tall now.

This past year I planted the following one gal. leycesteria formosa 'Golden Lanterns' and it stood up to our IDSH (intense, dry summer heat).

No crispy leaves, no drooping or wilting, interesting flowers and that leaf color! Sheesh! This one really lights up the shady areas. That red thing in the center of the plant is the flower. The 'Golden part of the name refers to the leaves and the 'Lantern' part refers to the flower. This is the only flower it got this year but next year it should have a lot more. I like this shrub so much I went back to the nursery and got 2 more. (You know, if one is good, three are better). I don't know if this shrub will grow to be a 'perfect' shrub but for now it's a new favorite.

Warm November

2008-12-03T10:09:00.000-08:00

I watched with alarm as several of my ferns put on a burst of new foliage during the month of November. It's usually pretty cold here by Nov. but this Nov. was warm and balmy. We even had temperatures in the low 80s. The reddish/brown fronds on the following fern are the new ones.

A number of plants thought we skipped winter and went straight to spring. One hydrangea put out several new flowers even as the foliage was dying back.

My camellia 'Yule Tide' is blooming a month early.

The Valley Oaks, indigenous to this area and temperature sensitive rather than light sensitive, have not even begun to drop their leaves.

We usually get one or two hard frost (25* or less) each winter that go on for 3-7 nights. I'll cover the new foliage on the ferns, but I don't think that will save them. Hopefully they will come back next spring.

Fall in Santa Barbara

2008-11-29T11:02:00.000-08:00

We went to Santa Barbara last weekend. It was as beautiful as ever, except for the area that burned which was a dark grey monotone. We drove by the beach, then headed up to the Botanic Gardens which is spectacularly beautiful, even when not in bloom. The sandstone boulders and gnarly live oaks are as dramatic in their natural beauty as any landscaped garden. Perhaps more so.

The mountains behind Santa Barbara are made of Coldwater Sandstone which holds rain water in the pores between the sand grains and releases it slowly so the creeks have water most of the year.

The mountains have a unique appearance because they are covered in a blue/green sage and chapparral punctuated by huge outcroppings of tan sandstone.

The creeks are lined with boulders and are a child's paradise to play in.

This bench is made up entirely of large sandstone blocks carved from local boulders. Notice the graceful curve of the stone.

Although this pond is man-made, they did a good job of making it look natural. In the spring the gardens are bursting with blooms of California poppies, lupin, mimulus and many other indigenous flowers. It's breathtaking and worth another trip down.

Pink! - A Visit From Abby

2008-11-24T19:55:00.000-08:00

Abby is a master gardener, a strong and remarkable woman, a true friend. Her garden is as remarkable as she is - complex and lovely - lush, green and absolutely packed with rare and unusual plants. When she arrives, (always bearing numerous gifts from her garden) we feast on Indian food, cruise the nurseries and antique stores and play endless rounds of "Justify That Plant" (aka "What the HELL were you thinking?)

Unfortunately, this weekend's visit was a bit different, given the circumstances - but we did manage the Indian food (after all, who's going to pass up a chance for Tandoori?) and a hasty, late afternoon visit to the Botanic Gardens.

And true to form, Abigail generously delivered several flats of beauties from Annie's Annuals: http://www.anniesannuals.com/

Fuchsia fulgens: (honestly, I felt weak in the knees when I first saw this one.)

Nicotiana glutinosa: Yeah, I love anything pink. I'm such a girly girl!

More pink! And one of my favorites - Penstemon parryi: (But don't overwater this one - I've killed more than one that way)

These Leaves Aren't Diseased, They're Variegated!

2008-11-19T18:51:00.000-08:00

I absolutely love variegated foliage. Below is a variegated echium 'Pride of Madira' and a v. sage. They add color and interest after the flowers have faded. If you click on the photo to enlarge it you get a better look at the foliage.

Below is a variegated sage, v. English ivy, and a v. solanem vine. The love birds were a gift from a friend. One day I went out and there was only one bird. I couldn't imagine what happened to the other bird. The next day my oldest son confessed to hitting it with the lawn mower. He said it made a lot of noise and just disappeared. He always hated mowing the lawn.

This euphorbia is one of my favorites. I planted it along with a variegated westringia that gets small lavender flowers, erigeron, and a small lambs ear that gets yellow flowers. The euphorbia also has yellow flowers . My husband says the leaves look diseased but I think he's teasing me.

Already Longing For Spring

2008-11-11T16:41:00.000-08:00

There is nothing in the garden worth taking a picture of so I went back through my pictures and found some beauties. (Or Bettys as Chloe calls them). I'm sorry I don't know the names of these impatiens. I got them at Annie's Annuals. This pink one is really more of a mauve color. Not as bright as this photo shows. It grows to about 3'.

This yellow impatient and the salmon one in the bottom right corner bloom for 5 months or more. It is still blooming but the cold nights made it drop most of it's leaves so it doesn't look too good.

These impatiens are lavender and white. They get about 2 ' tall but if they are pinched they grow to about 1". They are prolific reseeders. They come up all over the garden but are easy to pull out. Looking at my old photos makes me long for spring time. I usually spend the coldest winter months looking at catalogs and on line at all the plant store web sites fantasizing about redoing the entire garden in the spring. Of course I don't redo the garden every spring and I'm always grateful for the reseeders that fill in the holes that I don't have time to.

The Persimmon Tree

2008-11-08T07:01:00.000-08:00

There is only one way to eat persimmons: completely ripe. They have to be meltingly soft, almost translucent, then frozen. Sliced in half and eaten with a spoon, they are better than any ice cream or sorbet, and have just the faintest trace of astringency around the edges. I LOVE them.

I'm not so sure about the tree though. I originally planted it out on the sunny bank, where I could see it from the kitchen window. I envisioned it surrounded by apricot colored roses and California poppies. (Never mind that the poppies bloom in February, the roses peak in April and the persimmons ripen in late October. A girl can dream, can't she?)

But somehow, blue and grey colors took over that part of the garden! It's beautiful in the springtime, but not so lovely when the large glossy leaves turn red and the little branches of the tree sag and collapse under the weight of the brilliant orange globes.

This year, I picked the fruit as soon as it turned color and allowed it to ripen on my kitchen counter. The birds were cheated, but the little tree was grateful.

My Favorite Tree

2008-11-07T16:25:00.001-08:00

I bought this River Birch (betula nigra) as a rooted twig in a 1.5" diameter tree cylinder. This tree is like a child to me and I must admit I'm a little obsessive about it. I planted it where my husband did a huge compost pile for ten years. He had to stop doing the pile because he hurt his back but the tree has benefited greatly from his effort. This picture was taken a few years ago in the spring when the leaves are a fresh, light green. The bark is very shaggy, creamy white to cinnamon in color.

Love that bark.

I just took this picture showing the yellow fall color (along with a few crispy brown leaves). River Birches like to have their roots in a creek or stream where they can have a leisurely drink any time of the day. Of course I don't have a stream in my garden so I have to water it two or three times a week in the summer. (I'm a pisces. Maybe that's why I love to water so much)

If we go on water rationing next year I'll have to figure out how to keep it watered. Lots of buckets of grey water I suppose. I'd like to have it's roots right in the shower with me but I haven't figured out how to do that yet.

A New Day Dawning

2008-11-04T20:50:00.000-08:00

These pictures speak for themselves: Out of the darkness of the last 8 years finally comes light, warmth, hope.

The sound of a much appreciated autumn rain lulled me to sleep last night - enough to saturate the soil, but not enough to wash away all the seeds I've been flinging out into the garden. Waking to a brilliantly sunny and windy day the light appeared clear and sweet, almost colorless.

The garden is tucked in for the winter, seemingly desolate, barren. However the roots of a few new plantings are gathering strength under the soil - silent, unobserved, but ready to burst forth in bloom when the time is right.

Vote on Tuesday

2008-11-03T16:31:00.000-08:00

Well, you can see who I'm voting for. I'm so sorry Obama's grandmother passed away so close to the election. My heart goes out to him. This picture is dark because there are very dark clouds overhead and it's pouring rain. (yeh!)

Annual trip to Annie's Annuals

2008-10-31T10:31:00.000-07:00

I go to Annie's Annuals: http://www.anniesannuals.com/ about twice a year. She has a diverse and interesting selection of plant to choose from. The first time I went I bought way too many plants but I've learned to control myself somewhat now.

Here's a picture of some of the pots of flowers outside the office. It's late in the season but flowers are always blooming at Annie's.

This trampoline comes in handy for putting plants on. My eyes are always bigger than my garden space or the work my back is willing to do. I got three flats of 4" pots and 2 one gals. One flat is for Chloe which I will take down to her in Nov. I feel like a child in a candy store when I go to Annie's. I can hardly wait to go again in the spring.

Botanic Garden

2008-10-27T21:35:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, I woke to the monotonous sound of the foghorns down by the harbor and a mist so heavy it beaded like rain on the windowsills.

On the other side of town, the craggy tops of the mountains were just breaking through the fog, so I grabbed my camera and headed up to the Botanic Gardens.

The light has changed so much from the sweet golden light of late September. Silvery, wan, it lent a slightly wistful air to everything.

Fortunately, the Zauschneria were in full bloom. The beautiful coral/red color sparkled through the bleached grasses and instantly improved my mood.

A flash of gold from the last, lingering blossoms of Oenethera 'Lemon Silver'

Ripening Buckeye, or Horse Chestnuts (Aesculus) are a sure sign of the fading year, as are the plump little berries of the Toyon. Neither are to be eaten by humans, though!

And finally, the trail back home.

Scary Garden Creature

2008-10-27T09:55:00.000-07:00

This scary creature regularly haunts my garden. He can be very destructive, usually armed with a soccer ball. He also has a trampoline that he spends a lot of time on. I artfully take pictures around the trampoline, but as you can see from the following pic. it really is there.

He'll never know how difficult it was for me to put a trampoline in the middle of my garden.

Good Grass

2008-10-23T20:30:00.001-07:00

This first picture is of some really, really bad grass - surrounding my first house. That house was a remarkably ugly house, but oh how I loved it. But that grass! It haunted my dreams, and not in a good way. Thick and spongy, it was always brown despite sucking up water at an alarming rate, and grew rampantly into every crack and crevice it could find. I almost expected to find it creeping up through the floorboards in the kitchen one morning!

This is after I eradicated a lot of the lawn in favor of my many roses, but those horrible roots still ran deep and popped up in the most unexpected places.

But there are good grasses! In fact, I'm rapidly becoming obsessed with all forms of grasses, restios and sedges.

Catching the early morning light.

Late afternoon at a local park.

Restios and grasses marry delightfully.

Shades of Blue and Green

2008-10-23T16:55:00.000-07:00

I love wild mixes of flowers and color. By late spring-early summer the garden is a riot of color and shapes. One of my favorite color combinations is blue and lime or apple green. It looks so fresh.

The flower here is echium 'Blue Bedder' (it reseeds!) mixed with a mint relative that emerges dark green with mauvey blotches and matures to lime green with darker green blotches. I don't remember where I got it or what it's called and I have not seen it at a nursery since. Pale lavender flowers show up later in the summer. It sends out underground runners and is a bit invasive but it's easy to pull out. In the hot summer sun it fades to light green but still looks good. Amazing stuff.

The Bank

2008-10-21T20:53:00.000-07:00

When I first moved in, the steep bank that runs along the side of my house was a veritable wasteland: ragged strips of black plastic overlaid with 8 inches of dusty, weed infested gravel. Passersby walked their dogs there, threw trash and cigarette butts.

Overwhelmed with everything else that needed attention, I ignored it for a full year. Then Abigail came for a visit! Helping me in the garden one day, she bravely planted a single poppy (Apricot Chiffon) along the steps that lead up to the street. The poppy was so beautiful with it's translucent, ruffled and pleated petals that of course I had to remove the trash and weeds from around it! Then bit by bit the rest of the weeds were pulled, the gravel scraped off, the soil amended and before I knew it there was a lovely, wild and (almost) out-of-control dryland garden there. And all due to that single poppy.

Now as the light levels drop, the air grows cooler, the bank begins it's slide into winter rest.

Wisteria...

2008-10-21T11:56:00.000-07:00

This wisteria vine has never bloomed in the 10 years I've had it. And I've had it ---Off with it's head I say! I've tried every trick in the book except shovel pruning. Shovel pruning is when you ram the shovel into the dirt around the base of the trunk about 1.5 ft. out slicing through the roots. It puts the offending plant into shock and maybe into getting it's act together. In this case blooming. I pruned it every year. I gave it a good shaking every day for 9 mos. one year. I withheld nutrients and water. I don't know what else to do. The foliage is beautiful in the spring but as summer progresses it gets a bit ratty which I could live with if it bloomed. Any suggestions before I call it quits?

If you click on the photograph to enlarge it you will see the snail god Escargod. I put his likeness there to pay homage to him in the hopes that he would send his snail and slug minions some place else. So far I've had as much success with that as I've had with getting the wisteria to bloom. None. Oh well, as I say to Chloe, onward Garden Warrior!

Fall Fade

2008-10-17T15:48:00.000-07:00

This is my main flower bed in April. The previous owners of our house had an above ground pool surrounded by a concrete curb. We have always said we would take out the curb one of these days, but that day hasn't come yet. I'm already longing for springtime.

This is the garden 6 months later. I have to do a lot of clean up and cutting back, then put in winter and early spring plants and seeds. I have 2 flats of 4" pots to put in.... mmm... my back is objecting already.

Bass Notes: Sumptuous Plum

2008-10-16T21:18:00.000-07:00

Rosa 'Burgundy Iceberg'

This year, the back garden was intended to be intensely dark, smoldering colors - the Copper leafed Physocarpus, dark red calla lilies and sumptuous, plum colored roses.

Somehow (damned impulse buys) the colors wavered over into 'berry', then 'cherry', sliding up through the color wheel to red, scarlet and then, dreadfully - shrimp pink. A few leftover cream colored poppies (really, an insipid, washy yellow) were tucked in here and there - and then one day a truly hideous bright mauve phlox appeared - and once again - it's time to edit. Fortunately, I have extremely nurturing neighbors.

Zantedeschia 'Edge of Night' with Physocarpus 'Diablo'.

Unknown, but much loved rose. Most likely an Austin rose - maybe Prospero?

And finally, Dahlia 'Seduction' - a fitting name indeed!

Primrose...

2008-10-15T16:06:00.000-07:00

I love primrose for winter color.

2008-10-15T15:56:00.000-07:00

Here in the Bay Area of California it's time to plant primrose. This auricula is one of my favorites as is the above polyantha 'Victoriana Gold Laced'. Both from Annie's Annuals (anniesannuals.com) This year I got a 'V. Silver Laced' and a few candelabra primrose.

California: The Golden State

2008-10-13T19:41:00.000-07:00

Last spring, I wandered for hours through the Antelope Valley Poppy Preserve, sun on my back, a warm dry wind rippling through the acres of poppies. The ceaseless fluttering of the petals, the unending fields of gold amongst the silver grasses - it was enchanting, hypnotic, soporific.

This area had a very dry winter and spring, I can only imagine what it's like in a year of normal rainfall.

This weekend I went to Huntington Gardens (http://www.huntington.org/) and enjoyed the golden offerings there. Very different from the wild and lonely preserve, the gardens are just magnificent: densely planted and immacculately maintained. To do justice to the entire 120 acres would take several visits.

From the Herb Garden: A Zinnia basks in the sunlight.

Gaillardia and honeybee, collecting gold of yet another kind. (This photo by Fred E.)

From the Rose Garden: Carding Mill, a newer variety from David Austin.

Comte de Champagne, another fabulous David Austin rose.

And finally - from the enormous Conservatory: Lady's Slipper Orchid with it's tiny pocket lined with gold.

Garden Critters (and what to do about them)

2008-10-12T14:45:00.000-07:00

We have two huge oak trees and many squirrels racing around the garden with acorns in their mouths looking for good spots to bury them. I like the squirrels-- they're pretty cute and entertaining-- it's the raccoons I hate. They dig up huge patches of lawn looking for grubs, turn over pots looking for slugs, dig in the pots and flower beds looking for I don't know what. They make a mess where ever they go. But that's not all they do. They chew on the hoses then water sprays out all along the hose in a wild array, they destroyed a large kiddy pool we once had by playing in it and punching holes in the bottom with their claws (I caught them in the act), and they come into the house through the cat door. I had five of them in the house one night and they will only go out the way they come in. They wouldn't go out the door I opened for them, no, they all tried to squeeze out the cat door at the same time. It would have been hilarious if I wasn't so freaked out. I've trapped three raccoons and taken them to a wooded area with a creek. There are one or two more digging up the lawn again so I'm going to set the trap tonight. They love dry cat food.

There was an article in the New York Times a while back entitled "Garden Vigilantes: Peter Rabbit Must Die". It mentions three women who had critter problems and what they did about it. I was shocked when I read that one woman took a sledge hammer to the heads of woodchucks and included a recipe for Woodchuck Au Vin. Another woman catches critters in a cage then drowns them in a barrel of water while they are still in the cage and a third woman shoots any snakes that get into her garden. Now that takes some grit. To read the article go to Newyorktimes.com., Home and Garden section and search for Garden Vigilantes. The article is a bit long but worth reading for shock value.

Another morning glory story

2008-10-11T09:48:00.000-07:00

One year I let 'Granpa Ott' morning glory ramble where ever it wanted, mostly twining up the rose bushes. It was so beautiful. Just my kind of jumble of flowers and color. But when I went to prune the roses in Jan. they were all tangled with dead vines (Granpa Ott is an annual) and it was SO much work to get all the vines unwound from the rose stems I vowed to never again let morning glories have thier way in the garden. This past summer I planted them in a pot with a tall trellis where they were controlled and beautiful.

Blue Notes

2008-10-09T22:31:00.000-07:00

Morning Glory - a real garden thug, but oh-so-beautiful, I originally planted it to camouflage my woodpile. It engulfed the woodpile, snaked up and over the bank, strangled my Salvia Clevlandii, and is now affectionately embracing a small Vitex (Chaste Tree.) I'll have to nip that romance in the bud.

Geranium 'Rozanne' from Annie's Annuals in Richmond, California : http://www.anniesannuals.com/

Rozanne's beauty speaks for itself.

Clerodendrum is a tough little shrub from the Verbenaceae family, which means it loves the heat and can tolerate dry soil. It has a pungent scent, somewhat reminiscent of peanut butter. The gorgeous flowers more than make up for that unfortunate shortcoming though.

And finally, an unknown but much loved plant. It has grass- like foliage, arching, burgundy/brown stems with delicate, blue flowers all along the stems. When back-lit by the morning sun it is truly a dazzling sight.

Anybody care to ID this for me?

(Update: Abigail has kindly identified this as an Aristea. And she would know - since the plant was a gift from her!)

Mr. Fish Pot

2008-10-08T16:15:00.000-07:00

Mr. Fish Pot has been hanging around the garden for 15 years now and the only response I ever get about him is "You still have that thing?". In this photo he's sporting a lewisia. He now has a companula which should bloom next spring and I will, of course, take a picture.

Neighbors

2008-10-06T19:51:00.000-07:00

Other than the Mulch Phobic guy, (a story for another post) most of my neighbors are wonderful people. The 'hood is eclectic - residents ranging from retired people in lovely homes to college kids jammed into too-small garage rentals. One elderly gent in particular has befriended me - he lives directly across the street and takes an unwavering interest in my gardening activities. Our gardening styles differ dramatically. His 'hell strip' is covered with bark nuggets laid over black plastic. Any errant weeds that appear are attacked immediately with Roundup. Several flowering trees were cut down (too messy) and replaced with a row of well trimmed Ficus. The whole effect is neat and tidy in the extreme. But he loves his garden, and that's all that really matters.

Don't get me wrong - I'm all for neat 'n tidy. In fact, my housekeeping practices border on OCD. But that's inside. Outside, chaos rules. Moving into this diverse and cozy neighborhood, freed from the constraints of Suburbia, I indulged in a round of plant promiscuity that even now I blush to remember. Plants came and went, some never even making it into the ground before being passed on to other gardens. "It's such a nice plant" I'd hasten to assure the new owner "But..... well, we just weren't a good match."

Fortunately, I've calmed down a bit - except for my semi-annual shopping sprees with Abigail. But that's another post entirely.

Waterwise Gardening

2008-10-06T14:19:00.000-07:00

I couldn't help being amused when I saw this mushroom garden. It's low maintenance and no water! With the prospect of water rationing next year due to drought and the delta smelt (a small fish that resides in the delta where our water comes from) I'm considering making some changes to my garden to make it somewhat drought tolerant. I would take out the thirstiest shrubs and perennials and put in a few low water plants such as cordeline, native iris, a few grasses and even a couple of fleshy pink oleander. That would mark a huge change in my garden. We were on water rationing for a year 15 years ago and we let the lawns die but I kept most of the shrubs and perennials alive by saving all of the gray water from the house and lugging it out to the garden in a 5 gal. bucket. I made countless trips and developed huge biceps but it did the trick. I would pour the water into 1 gal. milk jugs that I had cut the tops off of and poked holes in the bottoms so the water could soak in slowly. We won't know until next spring if we will be on rationing but I'm going to start making changes soon because using less water is always a good thing.

The Backyard

2008-10-03T20:25:00.000-07:00

The backyard is truly the ugly stepsister of the garden. The most prominent feature is a patio of stamped concrete (which fools nobody) whose edges undulate in a series of curves so meaningless I can only imagine the person who designed it had some kind of inner ear disturbance. When I moved in, the rest of the garden consisted of a blob of lawn and two ancient, aphid infested orange trees mulched by a mixture of coarse builder's sand and bark 'nuggets'. The garden is enclosed on two sides by a 12 ft. retaining wall of stark, pinky-grey concrete blocks. It was incredibly ugly and desolate.

But everybody knows I love a challenge. My first inspiration was to have pale pink roses tumbling down over the retaining walls. I chose Sally Holmes, Collette and New Dawn. Enormous holes were dug in the sandy soil and back filled with planting mix and aged horse manure. Unfortunately, the roses just didn't thrive. Alternating blazing heat and chilly coastal fog took a toll. Mildew, thrip and rose slugs ruined the few blossoms the plants did manage to produce. Part of the problem was that in order to water them, I had to fasten two long hoses together, toss the nozzle end up onto the bank, then run up the street, squeeze through a spindly hedge and carefully make my way back down the bank, balancing on the edge of the retaining wall - which meant they didn't get watered very often.

Now Lepuchinia, Salvia and Clerodendrum thrive in the lean, dry soil of the upper bank. Two plum trees and a Chilopsis (Desert Willow, a much loved gift from Abigail) have replaced the aged orange trees. The roses, moved to a less challenging site proved to be prolific bloomers.

Anemones (by Chloe Marguerite)

2008-10-02T20:44:00.000-07:00

An unexpected free evening, so I rushed home, shucked my office attire, and after a fruitless search of the kitchen cupboards (empty as usual) headed out into the garden to take advantage of the last, lingering rays of light.

"The Cat", a tough but beautiful tom that has adopted me (that is, as long as the kitty chow makes a regular appearance) kept me company, lashing his tail and staring, intent and green eyed at the gathering shadows along the edges of the garden.

Kneeling in the cool soil, carefully weeding around the Anemones (harbingers of autumn in California) I felt an incredible uprush of gratitude and joy. Exactly seven years ago, at the absolute nadir of my life I knelt in another autumn garden, heartsick and bewildered at the turn my life had suddenly taken. Saying good-bye to that garden almost broke my heart.

In my pain and confusion, I left behind five years of plant acquisitions, many of them lovingly cultivated from seed - and at the last second threw my much used $29.95 Sears shovel into the trunk of my car. It would be almost two years before I used that shovel again, but it still fit into the curve of my hand like and old dear friend.

Fall (by Abigail Rose)

2008-09-30T11:17:00.001-07:00

We have a long, hot and very dry (20% humidity) summer and fall. The leaves on the deciduous trees such as this cornus 'Cherokee Chief' just turn crispy brown and hang there until it gets cold before they fall off. It looks terrible now but come spring and early summer it's so beautiful it makes it worth keeping.

2008-09-30T11:08:00.000-07:00

Now this is my idea of fall leaf color. Coleus is common plant, but I love them. It's finally cooled off a bit. It's in the 80s down from the mid to high 90s. We might even get into the 70s this weekend . When it does I'm going to plant some miniature daffodils 'Jetfire' and more blue anemone blanda. They'll bloom at the same time as forget-me-nots and iphion. I also like to plant primrose for late winter blooms. I especially like the one with dark red flowers edged in yellow.

September (by Chloe Marguerite)

2008-09-28T22:37:00.000-07:00

I try to visit Descanso Gardens in La Canada (www.descansogardens.org) several times a year. It's one of my favorite public gardens - very 'old California' with sunlight filtering through the oaks, dark forests of ancient Camellias, and a fantastic rose garden. None of it is terribly tidy, which I love.

I think my favorite time of year is September - the light is golden, the grasses tawny, and by the stream side a few Columbine remind us that in California at least, the shift of seasons is subtle and sweet.

My Little Red Yard Cart (by Abigail Rose)

2008-09-28T16:32:00.000-07:00

Shortly after buying our first and only house, my husband was going to the hardware store and I asked him to get a wheelbarrow for me, and he came back with a (stupid) little yard cart. I rolled my eyes and asked him what he got that for. He thought it would be more useful in the garden than a wheelbarrow. Well, I fell in love with that little red yard cart. My trusty yard cart gladly followed me everywhere in the garden, carrying any load I gave it.

My yard cart is retired now, old and rusted through. Parked next to the empty pots and flats of many different plants. I just can't seem to throw it away. So many plants have gone in and out of the garden over the years, and my old rusty yard cart was there for them all.

The Magnolia

2008-09-26T12:34:00.000-07:00

The magnolia Iolanthe has given me it's all. For several summers it's struggled against blazing sun, thin salty soil and the constant dust and exhaust from passing cars. For two glorious weeks in January it blooms - intoxicating, enormous, highly scented flowers with velvety, cream colored petals surrounded by a boss of purple/red stamens.

The other 11 1/2 months of the year it looks like a diseased avocado tree, leaves drooping disconsolately,
yellowing and burnt around the edges despite careful mulching and plenty of water. After watching me dig/chop/wrestle/heave the tree out into the street (where it was snatched up in 20 minutes by an ecstatic homeowner just up the street) my next door neighbor asked me in bewilderment: "Just what is it that you're trying to accomplish out here? I've seen you buying all this stuff, planting it, then digging it all out and giving it away! It's crazy".

How can I explain what I'm searching for? I want loveliness, beauty, that rush of heat when you see the perfect combination of color, form, scented foliage. The problem for me is that it's almost impossible to tell how something will look, until it's actually there, in your garden.

The luscious, melon colored rose that was so lovely on the nursery display table looked hot and overblown, almost tawdry - in my sunny backyard.

Moved to my mother's much shadier garden where it mingled companionably with Achillea 'salmon beauty' it was simply gorgeous.

Dahlia Days

2008-09-25T13:46:00.000-07:00

I love my 'Midnight Dancer' dahlias - the flowers, that is. The blossoms are a deep, mysterious reddish black with just a hint of magenta. They look absolutely stunning with chocolate cosmos, the dusky colors of Physocarpus 'Diablo' and all of the apricot toned roses. Unfortunately, the foliage is quite frankly, ugly. A coarse dull green, they have a lax and lazy growth habit, and usually end the season sprawled out on the ground like guests who've stayed too long at a party.

Initially, most of the plants in my back garden were soft billowy things in shades of grey and pale pink - David Austin roses, Stachys and Lepuchinias with their felted, lance shaped leaves.
I thought these colors blended well with the colors of the (incredibly ugly) concrete block retaining walls - and certainly the whole effect was soothing, calming.

But when a well meaning friend said to me kindly "You know, it's a little dull - you could throw some impatiens or marigolds back here for a little color" I overcame my shock and took a good look around. He was absolutely right.

This year, there are no impatiens or marigolds for me - but plenty of drama indeed in the late summer garden.

Roses

2008-09-21T19:02:00.000-07:00

Like many gardeners I have a complicated, love-hate relationship with roses. I started my first garden a dozen years ago on a dreary sun-baked suburban lot with no thought of design, no real plan. All I knew was that I was mad about roses, and that manure was 'the thing' to add to my hard packed adobe soil. So I added manure - many, many truck loads - and then planted roses. 47 of them, chosen enthusiastically and arbitrarily without regard to class, size or form. (I'd just finished reading Martha Stewart's Gardening book....)

When I ran out of room in the narrow beds against the side of the house, I carved huge furrows across the front of the lawn and continued planting. (Actually, I had to hire some men to break up the cement-like adobe with a crowbar and some very sharp spades.) Because I was determined to garden 'organically' there were quite a few months when things looked pretty bad. I deadheaded, endlessly picking off the rust and black-spotted leaves, sprayed with peroxide (!!) and dish soap, spread Epsom salts.... you get the picture. It wasn't pretty. And with nothing to give structure or cohesiveness to the garden, it was a visual disaster.

It really shouldn't be that much work for so little payout. In my current garden, I've limited the roses to the newer varieties of David Austin's, which seem to tolerate the fog and dry soil more easily than hybrid teas would. Various Pittisporum, Physocarpus and a beautiful variegated Cornus help lend weight and form to a very young garden. But still, every year I say that THIS is the year I will quit with the roses. THIS year it'll be all about the drought tolerant, native shrubs and grasses. And then I look at these - and before I know it I'm thumbing through the catalogs planning next year's purchases.

In the Beginning...(by Abigail Rose)

2008-09-21T12:16:00.000-07:00

My back yard circa 1990...mmmm... lovely! Note neighbor's shed for reference.

...15 years and 2,000,000 gallons of water later.....

Original 1990 view of back yard looking west. I can't believe I actually bought this house! Note oak tree for scale (photo center).

And today (with addition on house). Has that oak tree grown!

Garden Grit (by Chloe Marguerite)

2008-09-04T11:43:00.001-07:00

After viewing my garden for the first time, a friend stated flatly that his vegetable garden was far more work than a flower garden, no matter how beautiful, could ever be. After my laughter had subsided, I gave him the 'list': besides watering (a never ending chore on my sunny sandbank of a garden), there's .....um..... let me see: continual deadheading, grooming, mowing the lawn, edging the lawn, sloshing around with buckets of fish emulsion, cottonseed meal and planter's mix, spreading mulch, sowing rare/unusual seeds, planting out the wee seedlings, removing plants (often on a whim), coaxing the neighbors into accepting the discards, rearranging the remaining plants, cruising the nurseries for inspiration and impulse buys, etc. etc.

When I bought this house, I moved in with my scanty possessions: a bed, a few boxes of books and a set of brand new cookware. I placed the furniture in a way that made sense at the time, and there it has stayed ever since - prim, tidy, almost impersonal. I've never hung pictures and my many gardening books are still stacked on my bedroom floor, awaiting a bookcase. But the garden has been arranged, re-arranged and re-arranged yet again. It would have been so much easier and much less expensive to have drafted a landscape plan on 1/4" graph paper (showing strong axis running north/south) and using transparent overlays showing seasonal bloom time (staggered for seasonal interest.) Or used a carefully thought out plant list and planted in drifts of 3, 5 and 7. Easier, less expensive, certainly a better result - but not nearly enough excitement, anticipation, frustration and joy.

This joy is often what gets me out of bed in the morning, and what I ponder as I fall asleep at night. A garden slog? Yes - the garden certainly needs me and sometimes the demands feel unrelenting. But I almost think I need this garden more.