Holy smokes, a year goes fast. It seemed like forever when trying to sell our Alameda house. It was a good house, and we loved living there for 33 years. (We bought it when we were twelve.) But then came ranch fever–due in part to property-tax shock–and we packed our bags for Ranchville*. (*This post by Ms. Danger Garden includes photos of two of the very ranch houses we looked at before settling in ours. Funny, no? They’re about six blocks from where we located, and I walk past them regularly. And the house she mentions as going over the spiky side, the source of Opuntia Santa. All happenstance, I swear!)
“Sometimes I believe in as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” Alice
Oh my goodness. I thought I was way out in front of gardening season this year. And now it’s already Hortlandia time. Oh sure, I’ve got it on my calendar, but I also thought today was tomorrow. So I didn’t realize Hortlandia was upon us until fellow plant luster Loree made mentioned.
I wish I had more to report in the way of progress in the Sea of Juniper bed, but alas, forward ho is stalled. Everything takes so much longer than I think it will. Between the remaining juniper stumps and the weather, it’s not going as fast as I had hoped. I always imagine I can put up with rain and cold–and heat, too–but turns out, I’m quick to scurry back inside when the weather is less than ideal. We got so spoiled by our early fabulous weather, and now it’s back to rainy cold spring. So I’m out between storms, staging compost and plants, ready to rock and roll when those juniper stumps are completely gone–and the weather decides to cooperate. (more…)
Oh, sure, I meant to get around to taking it out, but at twelve feet wide and forty plus feet long, it was such a daunting task. And the bids, holy cow, multiples of thousands. And so I talked about it the way I’d talked about Megan wanting to play the harp when she was eight. One day she got tired of me waving my hands around and being glib, and she said: “It’s not that I want to play the harp. I’m going to play the harp.” And she then studied with Marion Fouse, harpist extraordinaire, for the next eight years.
Is it just me, or is everyone surprised beyond pieces that the garden resurrects each year? It’s so exciting to see there are actually plants growing out there.
This is my first full season in our Flamingo Park Gardens, and I can’t wait to get reacquainted with the plants. Oh sure, I put a lot of them in myself, and I have a spreadsheet, but I haven’t entirely keep track of what is where. At my Alameda (RIP) Gardens, I named the beds and recorded plants in each, Tropical Hellstrip, Moosehead Curve, Kay’s Memorial Garden. I could mentally crawl every inch of those beds. No such system here, yet—with the exception of the south-facing garden closest to the house. It’s the Hot Garden, and even in there, I’m still seeing surprises. (more…)
I found my Nolina ‘La Siberica’ at Cistus Nursery. Nolina (isn’t that a great name) lived happily in our Alameda hellstrip garden for two years. When we moved last April, we transplanted her to Flamingo Park; she has not missed a beat. At the time of year when the garden looks a little bleak, this stellar performer deserves unabashed praise.
It’s hard to imagine there was a time I didn’t lust for specific trees. Not that far back, I could identify maples and conifers, and that’s about it. Now my list explodes with possibility. If you love tropical-looking, big gorgeous fragrant flowers, and quick gratification–Magnolia macrophylla var. ashei is just the tree for you. I found my at Cistus Nursery, and though it’s been in a pot for the past two years–awaiting placement in our new garden at Flamingo Park–it bloomed its wee heart this past season.
