True Dirt

gardener's lament

Gardens are for somebody else to relax in. Late Sunday morning I went downstairs and stared at my garden. It was quiet and cool, the sun not yet above the roofline. There was the hammock strung across the deck, inviting me to snuggle in with a book and pass the day lazing. Then I thought about how the pots needed watering. No, hammock would be nice. A cup of coffee in the Adirondack chair with the Sunday paper? A towhee hops by on the way to breakfast in the compost pile.

I notice the grapevine is getting a little thick over the deck. And the lemon tree is sprouting suckers. Don't the marigolds make the garden sparkle! And there's a few I need to deadhead. I head back into the basement to get my pruning shears. Six hours later I'm hanging from a limb of the scarlet oak, one foot on the ladder and a saw in my hand. There is already a pile of lemon tree branches and grape canes on the ground.

My hair is full of leaves and other flotsam, I'm sticky and sweaty, and very thirsty. I climb down and fold up my ladder, thinking about how good a shower would feel. Heading across the yard I notice the cat sprawled on the deck under the hammock. She rolls over and yawns as I pass.

mulleins and music

Summer is here. In my backyard that means the remontant roses are now in their second flush of bloom (Madame Alfred Carriere, hybid musk Kathleen, cherry red single-flowered Dortmund, and the graceful white climber Pax). The tall spires of the verbascums have been harvested for indoor display and have set out their secondary blooming tips.

A new verbascum - planted last year but only come to flower in this - is in the running for this summer's most spectacular flower. It is about five feet high, pyramidal in form with furry pale grey-green leaves. The bloom stalk is as thick as my wrist and bears quarter-size pale cream white flowers densely clustered in a cone at the top.

I cannot now remember its name but I know I bought it at Annie's Annuals last year. I went out to her Richmond nursery with a mission - buy every verbascum I could get my hands on which I did, the 4" pots filling the child's red wagon the nursery makes available for customers who invariably buy way more than they ever intend in the acre-lot of locally grown flora. So, I must have the plant list or the tag around somewhere....

Summer also means the hammock is back up - to Christian's complete and utter happiness. This year he has added a new companion for his backyard idylls - a ukulele. So, while tidying up the driveway border, sweeping rose petals and pulling weeds I am serenaded by "Duke of Earl" on the ukulele.

my birthday treat

is being able to spend the day not in the office but in my garden. Where the recent installation of bush beans, tomatoes, strawberries and marigolds has put a happy face on my hillside once again. Again this summer I'm opting for the short-time-to-fruit Siberian tomato variety, Moskvitch, and surrounding it with the beans to replenish the tiny plot with nitrogen-bearing bean roots. The strawberries are an experiment and already one has disappeared (and a tell-tale hole was left, probably the squirrels).

The gift dahlia from Rich--Angel Dust--struggles on but the lone Bishop of Llandaf got mauled by small mammals (or, I suppose, it could have been one of the crows that has taken up residence nearby).

I am very curious about the bees this year. I noticed European honey bees swarming on the blooming lavender (variety "Provence") while California native bees seemed to prefer the verbascums. Then in early evening I noticed the California bees at the lavender while the honey bees had disappeared. Hmmmm..........

Honey bee

garden spider lunching on California (yellow-faced) bumble bee

Another Cherry Lost

Thank you, Briggs, finally, for that rant. I believe that to be the first bona fide rant in our little blog. About time.

Now can we return to our regularly scheduled gentle pastoral arboreal enhanced-dirt-encrusted weekly-watering-forgotten sweet little flower musings?