Taking a break

Even though the weather is cool and cloudy - perfect for working in the garden - I'm taking a break from this planting madness.

Feather reed grass now line the patio and tufted hair grass keeps company with manzanita in the front yard.

feather reed grass along one side of the patio

tufted hair grass next to manzanita

Still more to plant and other madness. Next: the pineapple sage. Planted only two months ago, I must move it to complete the feather reed grass along the other side of the patio. 

pineapple sage next to stake

This root-bound maple tree might survive long enough to get in the ground. Maybe here by the front porch.

variegated Japanese maple in pot with sedge

And what to do with this camellia? I was slowly shaping it up until someone thought he'd do me a favor and hacked pruned it while I was away. It's now a dense mass because I haven't touched it since. 

10-foot camellia

I'm off to the gym. Downward dog was tough on Monday. Elliptical trainer was tough on Wednesday. Today I will be adjusting weights downward. The old body needs a break and more recovery time.

Bad at the nursery, mad in the garden

Are you as bad in the nursery as you are in the fabric shop? I am.

a week's purchases

I've 22 plants: 6 feather reed grasses, 4 blue oat grasses, 4 tufted hair grasses, 5 Japanese forest grasses, 1  Japanese blood grass (can you tell I'm partial to ornamental grasses?), 1 euphorbia, and 1 Australian astroturf (can it grow into an alien pod like these babes?).


Could've / would've been more if the nurseries had them. There is room in the garden for them all. Unlike fabric, at least I have a good idea where each one will go. 90% of them anyway. Yours truly will be working madly in the garden. 

first one planted yesterday evening: blue oat grass

three more this morning

ready for next five - feather reed grasses here

Under construction

Neighbors on one side told me they were remodeling their bathroom. The project has expanded to the kitchen, the roof and the exterior. One day recently contractors were jack-hammering out their front steps - solid concrete - while neighbors on the other side are cutting stone for their patio. Construction in stereo.

I'm in a remodeling mode too. In the garden I've moved three existing plants, put new ones in the ground, regraded the soil along the new-ish fence, and dug up five gallons worth of calla lilies rhizomes. I put the container of roots at the curb with a sign to take them. They were gone in flash.

In the house, I've taken a major step toward the new studio:

new studio storage ready to load up

It only took a month to assemble due to multiple breaks and waits for more hardware, tools and muscle power. In another two or three months I might even be working in this new studio.

Meanwhile, in the current studio-cave, a quilt top undergoes remedial reconstruction:

squared for re-assembly

I'd tried to make this into a quilt sandwich twice. First the batting bearded like crazy. The second time I noticed one side was significantly shorter than the other. Why didn't I see this the first time?! It bugged me that no amount of tugging would square it up. Un-sandwiching began an odyssey of identifying and fixing the unsquareness. Turns out each of the three larger areas down the center needed trimming.

This was my very first improvisationally composed quilt top. I must've thought ruler cut pieces would sew up square. Goes to show I've learned a few things since.

The front garden

When I'm not in the studio, you might find me in the garden.

When I moved into this fixer upper in 2000, it needed fixing both inside and outside. I took on the responsibility of garden planning and plantings. Gone now is the old camellia that dropped thousands of tiny blooms and required many hours of pickup. Gone now is the weedy Bermuda grass lawn.

Here are photos of what it looked like in 2006 and what it looks like now:

I love the way this part of my front yard turned out. The fresh smell of lemon verbena and resinous smell of Russian sage. Feather reed grass dancing with the breeze. Textures and colors galore: spiky orange and green libertia, furry red kangaroo paws, bronzy red flax, round bright yellow-green leaves of the smoke tree, fuzzy gray-green leaves and fuzzy purple flower plumes of Russian sage, and tall buff seed heads of the reed grass.

If I'm not down in the studio, I can look out the window at this.

Masked bandits

Aaargh! I didn't get to enjoy the fruits of my own labor!

I planted four fruit trees one and a half years ago. Each was multi-grafted to produce four varieties of each fruit. Last summer the squirrels got the few fruits they produced. Or so I thought.

This summer, there were only a few apricots and European pears but many Asian pears and loads of plums. More than enough for me and the squirrels, right? I was willing to share but got short changed.

Fruit was gone before it was even ripe. I managed to pick a few plums to ripen on the counter. But the Asian pears were gone way early. I got nary a one. Maybe the squirrels invited all their distant relatives for dinner. But I had other suspicions.

One tell-tale sign was poop in my back yard. We don't have a dog and these weren't from the neighborhood cats or squirrels. Another sign were the broken branches. Unless squirrels got way fat and lead footed.

Then about 8pm one evening my headlights spotted them crossing the street about two blocks down the hill. Four raccoons. Big healthy ones. The rascals!

Fruit season is over now. I'd probably paid more just for water for these few fruits than they would've cost in the grocery store. I am scheming to keep these bandits out next year.