Category Archives: my garden

Around the place.

The swimming pool is now history, and archaeology. If anyone digs down far enough in my back yard they will find the history buried there. The upper walls were broken up and left in the bottom of the pit.pool work long view first day

I wish I could post a long, long movie of all the short videos I took throughout the process, spliced together – watching the workers was so much fun. The grandboys would have loved being here to see the real thing, but their parents wouldn’t have liked exposing them to the decibels. I’m getting a headache just remembering last Thursday when I was being shaken to my bones.

The house was vibrating and the ground shuddering from the force of the Bobcat jackhammer that was chewing up 8″ thick walls of concrete. It was as though a Monster Dentist was working on the whole property, including the human occupants, relentlessly drilling and breaking every hard surface into bits.P1010291The effect on the mind and psyche was similar, too. I knew this makeover was what I wanted, so I was willing to suffer the pain and discomfort, but the reality of being invaded and pummeled and realigned hour after hour — little foam earplugs couldn’t soften the attack. Yet I was spellbound by the show, and could not keep myself from going out again and again to watch the experts do their thing, and to document the progress.

After the jackhammer came the shovel and the compactor, doing a dance together to make the new firm surface. Here is the end result of three days of commotion, the blank slate I will be designing and transforming into my new “nice place to be.”pool gone 8-15-15Pretty blank, isn’t it? You might notice that in the two top pictures, there were shrubs on the right. In the picture just above they are gone, too, scooped up in a few seconds by the power shovel. Soon paths will be laid, nice topsoil will be brought in, trees planted, and raised vegetable beds built. Many other features of this garden are on the drawing board, and I’ll be sure to tell about them as they come along. I wish it could all be donelight in window 8-17-15 right now, but that’s not how life is.

This morning tree trimmers came and made big changes to another part of the back yard. I had the plum tree removed completely, so the living room is much lighter. Our house only has windows on the front and back sides, and both the back and front windows on that south side were shaded until now. I took this picture too late in the afternoon for it to be obvious, but it’s a definite improvement.

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the former view

 

 

When the tree man came last month for his first look at the job, he told me right away that the pine tree is a Canary Island Pine.  The discomfort of ignorance was lifted from my mind that moment, and with it a kind of shame I had been feeling over not knowing all these 25 years the species of our big needle-shedding tree.

 

 

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I read about these trees online and found out that they are popular landscaping plants in this country that is not their native land, and they are the most drought-tolerant pine there is. Now it is the only tree on the property, so it is more special to me than ever, and I’m really glad that it has been “lightened” and “shaped.”

The trees that are being considered for inclusion in the future landscape are mostly dwarf varieties, and the next-tallest tree here is not a tree at all, but my beloved osmanthus in the front yard, which I realized a couple of weeks ago is suffering terribly from the drought, and has some dead branches and lots of brown leaves.

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beautified Canary Island Pine

I feel so bad that I didn’t take care of it and give it some water; I guess it’s another matter about which I haven’t been doing my best thinking in the last year, and as we haven’t been watering the lawn, it hasn’t been watered either. I was ignoring it as I would a tree that has roots deep enough to find water even in drought. But it isn’t; it’s a shrub that has grown very big, and therefore needs even more water.

The Landscape Lady says it may not be too old to develop deep roots, and the Tree Man says it is not dying, only “compromised,” and I should run a soaker hose along the drip line once a week. So I have a plan there, too. Poor baby. It’s blooming sweetly now, this Sweet Olive, even in its thirsty state. It is the taller bush directly behind the sunflower in the picture below, not looking so bad from this side, and from a distance.

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osmanthus behind sunflower

In the front I have vegetables and tomatoes growing in what used to be the lawn, and what will try to be a lawn again when rains come. I thought as recently as a month ago that next summer I might re-do the front yard and do away with the lawn once and for all. Right now I am too tired to think of such a project, and I will just focus on my upcoming meeting with the Landscape Ladies. We will walk around the liberated large space with our plant lists and drawings of paths and planting beds, and brainstorm together. Friday can’t come too soon!

Some of the tomato plants have died, and the sunflowers are all putting out these twisty and scrunched blooms, but the butternut squash looks healthy and normal, and cheers me up.

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While waiting…

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This boy is turning 17 exactly 10 years later.

“Murder postponed” was the first title I came up with for this post, but that is unnecessarily sensationalist for my usual taste. However, it probably does reveal the current tone of my meditations.

I’ve been thinking about why this swimming pool demolition project is proving to be more emotionally unnerving than I expected. I did fully expect that it would start today, which is why bright and early I was waiting and ready. Bright and early dear Mr. Bread was on hand as well, but we soon discovered that my lack of familiarity with the communication style of contractors had caused me to misunderstand a particularly misleading worker. The work will not proceed quite yet, so I have time to think about it all here on my blog..

I was until recently married, for most of my adult life, and I am trying to adjust to the ending of that earthly relationship. For more than half of my married life I was also a pool owner, so I had a sort of relationship with my pool, and that is ending, too, not by death or divorce, but by me murdering my pool.

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baptisms

I hope it is not dishonoring to my late husband to think about our marriage as being in any way similar to that concrete container; I am just contemplating the emotional strain of things changing. If my husband were here helping me change the backyard landscape, I would no doubt be comforting him, and probably not acknowledging my own angst, but now I have to comfort myself about one more change.

Kate wrote that she is trying not to be too emotional about what is a very logical decision. 25 years ago when we were house-shopping, we reluctantly settled on a house with a pool, having originally excluded that option from our plan. We had only expected to live here a couple of years anyway! Of course, our whole family became invested in that pool and enjoyed it, and many of our friends have written to tell of their important memories of swimming and baptisms.

But for me to go on here in this house and on this property, it is very helpful to be able to create an alternative physical space to go along with my new life. This pool has outlived its usefulness as a place for people to have fun, and now presents as only a big bathtub that needs to be kept clean. Not being a great one for that kind of chore, I’m thankful I have the resources to change it out for a living and breathing ecosystem that will be friendly to bees, butterflies, birds, children and tea parties.

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This boy loved monitoring the pool sweep.

Once I didn’t have to stay around for the work that wasn’t happening this morning, I realized I could go to church after all and celebrate my priest’s name day with a warm and joyful church family brunch after Liturgy. It was encouraging to talk to people about my ongoing grief and projects; I am so thankful for this community that upholds me in so many ways.

I have some more time to finish my preparations for my first meeting with a landscape designer who specializes — and what California landscaper doesn’t? — in what we call waterwise gardening and irrigation. Yesterday I dug out the few plants I want to keep that were on the edge of the pool, so close that they might end up in the hole, and I put them in safe and moist places until we figure out where they will work into the new landscape.

I got so hot and tired in the middle of that task, and mused as I worked over the timing of my project: should I have waited another year, or at least a few more months, to begin? I concluded that it was right and good for me, being a gardener and naturally takingFB blue flowers 5-05 delight in planning a garden, researching about plants, and imagining a beautiful natural space. If I didn’t have this creative work to do, just what would I be doing right now?

I’d probably be feeling guilty about not doing all the sorting and cleaning that needs attention inside the house, much of it the kind of work that requires decision-making or skills that I’m not so good at, and that feel too formidable right now. Also I’d feel bad about putting water in the pool all summer long! Once I get through the next weeks and begin to see the unfolding of the vision, I will be less anxious. And for now, we can all take a little longer to say good-bye to the pool that we didn’t want, but were thankful for, and now don’t want again. Good-bye, Pool!

 

To be like that orchid.

This morning I helped make Communion bread at church. The only pictudough risen 8-4-15re I took this time was of the big bowl of dough before it was turned out and divided among us four bakers. It was just so symmetrically bulbous and gaseous.

When I came home I noticed the lovely rose, as I had noticed yesterday, too, and I thought I really must take a picture of it. But I forgot, and was eating my lunch when rain began to fall! It was only a few drops, and it didn’t spoil the roses. I went out even while it was still coming down and captured two roses. This may be the last season for that rosebush  – I don’t know that tea roses fit into my xeriscapic visions. (Just so you know, xeriscapic is not a legitimate word, but what form of the word could I use for the idea of “visions of xeriscape?”)

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watered plants

Many more pretty and colorful flowers are blooming in the garden right now, though I must say I’m mostly noticing the unkempt parts. It’s less than a week now until the pool will be broken into pieces that will be dumped into its own hole. I had to call the mosquito control man to come and spray that little swamp at the bottom that the electric pump couldn’t extract.

 

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Because I’ve had to mIMG_0273ove pots and firewood and steppingstones and all manner of things out of the way, the yard front and back is in great disarray in addition to being drought-stricken.

I’ve decided not to keep some plants, after I watered them for weeks with water from the pool; miniature roses in pots are also not waterwise gardening. But it feels like euthanizing old pets merely because they’re too much trouble. All of this upheaval is unsettling.

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unwatered plants

The ornamental/cherry plum tree you can see sticking up purplish next to the house in the pool picture will be removed shortly after the pool, and the pine tree thinned out and shaped. My shady part of the garden will not be so shady anymore.

The wisteria is telling me  she has no idea that there even is a drought. And she keeps me busy cutting off those wild stems that weave in the breeze. If you don’t recognize her, she is the green frizzy mop on the arbor next to the purplish plum.

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In the house, I can hardly believe it, this orchid is still blooming, a condolence/memorial gift from March. When I came home from the mountains one branch had wilted and dried, but after I watered it it revived completely. I’m sure I’ve posted its picture here before, but I can’t help sharing again, it’s so wonderful. I would like to be like that orchid.

On the table by the orchid is a little Jubilee tomato from my front yard. Those tomato plants do not like where they are planted, not one bit. The fruit is almost all small, tough, and/or tasteless. I now regret that day of tomato-hole digging, as I don’t really need any tomatoes at this time of my life anyway, but I did learn some things from the experience.

This week is lots of cookie-baking at church for our food festival in September, and also the the bright and blessing Feast of the Transfiguration. I’ve had house guests of the easiest sort coming and going, and a couple of them who I hope will stay a few weeks as they are on an errand of mercy. They are taking me out for dinner this evening, and I think I will end this mélange on that cheerful note.

Breads and Flowers

Mrs. Bread gave me the sweetest cape violet plant before Thanksgiving. She had P1000581 cape violet & Sunsugar tomatoesrooted a cutting from her own plant, I think, which has been blooming enthusiastically ever since. But I couldn’t get mine to make a flower until last week. Here it is posed with another event: my first Sunsugar cherry tomatoes of the season.

I think I wasn’t paying enough attention to the detailed horticultural tips she also sent me, and in order to encourage growth and bushiness I was diligent to pinch the tips instead of to “cut out stems when they have finished.” I pinched too soon and therefore too much.

If you look carefully in the background, you might notice that there is no fence around my pool anymore. Dear Mr. Bread took that away yesterday in preparation for the demolition crew who we hope will start work this month to continue the transformation of my back yard. I’m working on a nostalgic pool blog post.

Also in the distance is the hanging basket that Cousin Renée gave me a couple of months ago. It is filled with all sorts of begonias and trailing flowers, and goes on blooming and blooming. Which I expect this violet to do now, too!