New projects for the weekend

Thanks to two nice people I met through craigslist, I now have two more pieces of furniture for the garden. The bench will be cleaned-up and either teak-oiled, or restained. The chair will be brushed clean and then repainted with rust-proofing paint. Maybe midnight blue?

Frost!

Had to wrap the tomato-plants and baby sweet peas up warm last night: second night of frost. It melted away soon after the sun rose, and now all is clear and shiny and quiet.

The swans are changing their roosting place every day. This morning they were just opposite the house. Yesterday they were a little further up the creek. No nest yet?

Well-washed and squeaky-clean

It rained all night, all day, and all night, again. This morning dawned foggy and grey. The clouds have now lifted a few feet and are hovering over the horizon... but then they rift open and pour more water onto my leaking roof...

Can you get house-sized umbrellas?

Newly-planted

Out in the soft rain: the clover-and-grass seeds are being gently watered and so far the birds haven't found them. So far. That won't last for long, but hopefully there's enough so that both birds and lawn can eat their fill.

Mulching the beds in the raised garden. Also planted twenty gladioli, the picture on the bag showed a beautiful dried-blood red with a silvery edging: Gladiolus "atom. Plus six purple Iris sibirica, that after looking them up on the internet, I'm going dig up again and plant somewhere wetter. Oops.

The "rescued" trees

Looking east from the raised garden. This tree was hidden by brambles last year.

This is one of its buds, just starting to unfold.

This is the blossom, just starting, on the small tree that hangs over the south-side of the pond deck. It should soon be pure white.

These, some of the first trees freed-up from the briars and brambles and vines, are starting to bud, flower, and look healthy. (Thank you, Jose and team, for the day late last year you spent clearing me a three-foot path all the way around the raised garden... I know you were not keen on the job but were nice enough not to refuse it!)

It is only now that I'm beginning to see, to appreciate, how much land goes with this house. Last summer, it was a small lawn at the front and a raised lawn at the back with some borders and some nice hydrangeas. And some grass around the edge of the house.

Now, with the front opened up, and the vines coming out of the trees... it's enormous. Just putting a few tomato plants in containers on the pond deck showed how much room there is there for a container garden.

Now I know where I can grow vegetables. Late last year, I thought it would be impossible. Now it's easy to see: there can be raised beds just behind the house. It gets plenty of sunlight and it drains well. But that has to come after a deer fence, otherwise they will be too happy for their own good ;-)

Garden update

The "downstairs" border, against the north wall of the raised garden. Daffodils flowering, hostas bursting forth (why so many hostas where the deer can go??? may have to re-house some of them), hydrangeas coming into bud, and peonies yes peonies unfurling redly from the earth. All now nicely mulched and weeded (at least for now).

Couldn't grow peonies in Sacramento; tried, but they never flowered. The soil was too heavy--pure clay--and even amended, all it would produce peony-wise was about three leaves.

I hope they are scented, like the peonies in the Polish village...

This is the little corner by the stairs up to the raised garden. There's a new clematis and climbing rose in the corner, both seem to have settled in well and are green and healthy and covered in buds. The lilies-of-the-valley too have just start to show.

There's another vine growing strongly. So strongly that it makes me suspicious. It might be the wetland honeysuckly (fine!) and it might be something more invasive. I have to ask my neighbour for help identifying it.

The little bench is the one I bought last weekend, sprayed it hammered black with Rustoleum. I have a thing about spray paint recently, since discovering heat-proof paint for making fireplace nice a couple of years ago. Also spray-painted some old, large plastic plant-pots yesterday; made them look like planters not just the things you bring a tree home in. They'll be used for annuals.

I thought it was flattering when they asked my for my birthdate when I bought spray paint. A bit like being asked to show your ID when buying alcohol... (do they really think I'm that young???) Then I was behind a gentleman at the checkout who was also buying Rustoleum spray... and they asked his birthday, too. I think he was seventy. He said he was on his way to a graffiti party.

This is the border on the east side of the raised garden, the corner by the pond deck. The pansies (those that have not been dug up by raccoon, possum, or Muffin) are starting to really settle in. The daisies have put out leaves, and so have the big blue thistle-like things. If I can find my two big orange buckets tomorrow (I'm sure they were in the garage...) this will all be mulched tomorrow.

Rain and wind and cold permitting. It was seriously chilly today. Brrr....

A new, old rose

Before I forget what it was and where I planted it: an "old rose", Belle de Crecy, in the bed behind the mailbox. Flowers will be pink-turning-purple, and scent should be heavenly.

Spring has not sprung--it has exploded!

The grass has grown two inches in five days. Dandelions have taken over. Allium are three-feet high and getting ready to burst open, when last week they looked like just-another-daffodil-bud (not that there's anything "just-another" about the beautiful daffodils--the little creamy-white ones, especially, are beautiful).

The wild roses are coated bright green: the wetlands trees are budding red; the lilac carries tightly-folded fingertips of leaves... and the reeds are spearing their way through the earth.

Bumble-bees, wasps, yellow-jackets and (no, please no, not yet) a baby mosquito and a maybe-a-tick-yuck. Gnat-type flies and one big bluebottle.

Yes, it's warm, it's humming with sunshine, and summer is a-budding.

Garden list

Been busy. Tidying all the garden borders, removing weeds, digging, trimming, removing dead stuff, planting...

Thanks to Barbara who sold me some nice things from her garden yesterday, there are some new arrivals, and I've been able to fill the bed at the back right of the raised garden, where there were only weeds and one patch of chives before. Now it has Rose of Sharon (Hibiscus syriacus), Red-Hot Pokers (Kniphofia uvaria), and Canna Lilies (Cannaceae), red ones. The cannas will need to be lifted for the winter, at the first frost. I put some Crocosmia (Crocosmia x crocosmiiflora) in the bed too: the usual red ones, and some yellow.

The right of the pond, where the overgrown hedge used to be, is where nasturtiums, miniature sunflowers and poppies have gone. No mulch for that bed! The poppies need daylight to germinate. Poppies include Papaver rhoeas Angel's Choir (mixed, double), "Watermelon Heaven" (a California poppy), and Papaver orientale "Pizzicato Mix" (semi-dwarf).

I can't believe Burpee are so mean with the number of poppy seeds. There were about twenty in each packet (the Watermelon and the Pizzicato). By the time you've wrestled open the little inner packet, and found the few seeds clinging statically to the sides, you wonder if it's worth it. The packet of Angel's Choir was much fuller (Thompson & Morgan). Will remember that.

Around the steps to the deck: several daylilies, more crocosmia, and a couple of blue thistly things whose name I can't remember... will update this later.

This is a Grackle

(Don't you just love birds' names?)

He's looking annoyed because the bird-feeder is empty. It's empty because He Ate It All. With a little help from his friends... they wintered Somewhere Else, and whereever it was, obviously there was a food shortage, because what was lasting the cardinals and starlings and red-winged blackbirds and little finches and sparrows and bluejays a whole week, is now gone in twenty-four hours.

He's quite cute really: something halfway between a starling and an English blackbird, with metallic blues and greens shining from his black feathers, and a very beady eye.

More about him here: http://identify.whatbird.com/obj/536/_/Common_Grackle.aspx

Smilax smiley (aka, that *!X!!** vine)

It may not look like much--in fact it looks like a lot less than before--but those almost-vertical things are actually native wetlands trees or shrubs. They were buried under smilax, the horrible vine-with-claws, a really fast-growing briar. They had been buried for at least a few years, as the amount of dead wood showed. All of the trees were bent over towards the south--there must be some reason for that.

The green stuff on the floor is not grass, it's chopped-up smilax. It is a fate better than it deserves. It got in my hair, my boots, my gloves. I have a thorn embedded in a finger. Smilax gets right up my nose (literally, it hooked me) and must create more cursing than any plant on this planet, even more than stinging nettles (you can at least eat them) or poison ivy (it's pretty in autumn). They say you can eat smilax, or make booze from it, but I will leave that to the deer.

It will grow again, and quickly. Cut one shoot down and at least one more pops up. Maybe within hours. My theory is that the deer will find the young shoots tasty and, now that they can get to them, they will help me to keep it under control. That's the theory. In practise, I'll turn my back for an hour and everything will be back as it was... At least now the trees, shrubs and wild roses will have a chance to see daylight and to fight for their own space.



This is an example of a tree half-covered in smilax. See how high it has grown? It's tangled right into the top of the tree on the right of the trunk. Yuck.

Oh deer :-)

Two of them, early this morning. First one peeped through the fence behind the pond, then they made their way round to the woods at the side of the house, (hopefully) browsing on the newly-risen briars.

Two young whitetails; look like last year's babies, out on their own now. They are not at all shy: they stare back. And you know they are just waiting for nightfall so that they can eat more tulips. Or nibble the young daylilies.

And that reminds me, I really must move the yew I planted in a big pot. Who would have thought yew was a deer delight...

Patterns in the sand, again

Sand, waves, foam, sunshine... and a whole lot of four-wheel-drive tyres.

Calm sky, raging sea

The air is still, and has been all day. The sky, blue as a sugar egg. The bay is a mirror and the birds are doubled in it. And yet I can hear the ocean from here, inside the house.

The waves are huge. Not much sand to walk on, and the water tries to catch us then sinks rapidly away. Several surfers tonight, but despite seeing them warming up and running bravely into the water, I didn't see one catch a wave. Shame. Maybe next time.

Favourite tree

This tree is on next-door's undeveloped, completely overgrown plot. It will not be choked by vines this year. It is too good to look at.

It will have red leaves soon.

Misty, sunny morning

Another frost, quickly turning to early-morning mist. Sunrise through the haze, dazzling.

Animal magic

Today's new sightings:

- the egret in the garden
- two black squirrels in the huge oak tree near the churches
- and a Giant Possum.

Seriously. Giant. I think he was as big as a dog. At least as big as our cat. And she is one big cat.

The possum was in the woods, just below the pond. He froze and stared when I caught him in the beam from the torch (flashlight). Fury was really excited. Now she's back inside, gazing out of the door, and softly sighing because she wants to go out and play some more.

I wonder if possums make burrows? That might explain some of the holes...

Lunchtime. His is cancelled... for today

I thought this might happen. Bold as brass, he landed at the edge of the pond. I yelled and he just hopped onto the rail. Fury barked, and he just looked with disdain.

He resisted the fish... for now. I'm sure he'll be back.

I'd rather have them carried away by Big Bird than have the raccoons feast on them but...

Home-made spin class

Just get on the bike, and ride... thirty minutes to Smith Point nature station, with the (cold) breeze at your face. Thirty minutes back, with the wind being helpful but legs a little more tired. Hardly any more time than it takes to go to the gym and back, more scenic than a spin class or stationary bike (but you have fewer loonies at 70 mph in the gym than on William Floyd... very glad there is a bike lane).

The beach at the non-dog area of Smith Point, at the end of the long deck path, is beautiful and endless. Miles and miles of golden sand to the west. The pavilion hidden from view to the east. Just the waves and the shore and the dunes and a few seagulls...

Correction to earlier contortion

Dunno why I always confuse them, but I do. The "contorted" tree is a hazel, not a willow: Corylus avellana 'Contorta'. AKA Corkscrew Hazel or Filbert. AKA Harry Lauder's Walking Stick.

Still priced at $99 ;-)