almost the end of a frenzied planting season

On Facebook, the “Good Enough Gardeners” posted this status update:

“Amanda says: I’ll be back soon.  One more week of summer annuals hell.”

Yes, day after day of working till dusk…and while, not being morning people, we start at ten, that is still a long day for people pushing sixty.  (Okay, I’m pushing sixty from five years away, but it doesn’t feel that far off.)

end of day, exhaustion, from car

working till sundown, again

Every day I hoped we would get done before sundown, but it was not to be.  I worked 52 days with only four days off; Allan had eight days off but they were because of his mother dying.

double file viburnum

I realized how truly hard a season it was when I managed to get  only one walk down into our own garden to get a quick photo of my favourite viburnum.  Usually I have more time to savor it.

Meconopsis

Also managed one photo of my single Himalayan blue poppy plant which survived from what I hoped would be a growing colony of these.  On one of my four days off, I did clear most weeds from one bed in our own garden; the other, say, nine distinct areas of the garden have reverted to jungle.  It’s hard to imagine that two years ago we were on the Peninsula garden tour!

So let’s focus on the good gardening news:

The storm did not do as much damage as I had feared.  I thought the whiskey barrels and colour pots at Andersen’s Rv Park would be decimated, but those plucky petunias (not my favourite plant) and agyranthemums survived.

Andersen’s after storm

andersen’s after storm

The plants were laid a little flat but only one red petunia broke off!

earth flag

We managed to rig up and fly our earth flag for just one day in Long Beach, a response I came up with to the disturbing number of Confederate flags in town.  But unlike those boys who don’t mind their big flags blocking traffic or whacking passing tourists in the face, we realized we need a somewhat smaller one to be polite.  We had too many annuals to move out of our staging area and into the various gardens to find the time to figure out a better flag solution.

waiting plants

and more…

more waiting plants

Every day we stuffed the car full of the more tender plants, and the trailer full of wind resistant plants, and spent the day planting.  Then on the way home we would pick up more plants from local nurseries, mostly annuals, some perennials, to begin the same rounds the next day.  While working mostly in the rain was rather a misery, the blessed part of it was once we had the plants in, we did not have to water them nor did we have to backtrack and water the ones we had planted two days before.

Somewhere along here I had a revelation and quit two more boring jobs, but that wasn’t enough to catch us up, just enough to take two failures (failures to show up!) off the roster.

June flowers?

It seems that this year May showers will bring June flowers, because in many gardens there is still a wave of budded green but very few flowers.  (Above, Oman and Son Builders Supply garden in Ocean Park, usually riotously colourful by now.)

Justin

Justin

The little joys kept us going through exhaustion and utter crankiness, like the friendly new colt, Justin, at the Red Barn; a Justin visit was in order while planting cosmos and container plants there. He is such a friendly little guy.

KBC May 2010

Klipsan Beach Cottages, one of our oldest and most established gardens, perhaps warmed by the gravel paths, behaved in late May more like I expect a garden to  at this time of year…Yes, one of the busy days was up north doing KBC, The Wiegardt Gallery, and two full days were spent at mid-Peninsula weeding and planting at Andersen’s, while I inwardly fretted that Long Beach was still incomplete.

We spent two days getting the Anchorage Cottages gardens and containers all nice again.  (I had stayed away for a month to avoid watching a crew of painters step on “my” gardens; the cleaning up and refurbishing of the gardens went well and happily but was so busy that not a photo was taken.)

Sophie

and her paws

Getting the Long Beach parks and planters perfect in time for Memorial Day weekend was a huge crunch, especially since our first planting had gotten whipped hard by the surprise windstorm.  My dog-niece Sophie joined us one day, and in my punchy, weary state I took pleasure from the very cuteness of her paws.

Penstemon ‘Firebird’

poor cosmos

We plant the Long Beach planters with “the principle of Stuffage” (I think that’s an Anne Lovejoy term): lots of plants.  The poor cosmos got hit hard by the windstorm, so I got a few more packs and will add some next time we walk through town; we literally ran out of time on the Friday before Memorial Day weekend.

On Thursday evening we learned that there was to be a memorial service at the above planter where a beloved local resident was murdered last fall by a violent ex boyfriend.  The city needed it to look spectacular, so off we went on another shopping trip to buy the sorts of plants that will take the full beach approach environment, and in quite a cold wind and rain planted it up.  A family member who had wanted to adopt it had not been able to take it on after all, but we had not known that before.  (Even without working on this planter, I never pass by here without thinking of you, Lisa.)

Lisa’s planter

With new soil and plants, it is ready for the ceremony today.  We checked it last night and no vandalism or problem had occurred… If these plants are left alone and can all knit together, it will be an excellent beach planter.  Surely no one will vandalize a planter with a memorial plaque on it?  One can hope.

Back to the parks late Friday afternoon….in the rain…where I did not really get them done to my obsessive satisfaction and had to tell myself that only the most intense garden tourist is going to peer at the back of the garden looking for little dwarf fireweed and shotweed…Then on to check the Ilwaco planters for dead bulb foliage and to weed the garden at the Port’s Time Enough Books…till it was almost too dark to see…and then we had to admit that we had done all we could to catch up.  Two private gardens remain neglected, and nothing is quite as it should be, and my own garden is beyond my level of tapped-out energy, but we could do no more.  Truly it was such a hellish day that even a hot bath and a glass of sherry were not enough to ward off the chill.

Fuchsia ‘Pink Marshmallow’

(But one more happy thing: riding around with a blossom of  ‘Pink Marshmallow’ on the dashboard, which I picked up off the parking lot at the Basket Case Greenhouse.)

Yesterday, Allan soldiered on weeding Discovery Heights entry gardens, also neglected due to our family crisis.  I had hit the wall, oh, about a month ago, so while I carried four plants by hand to plant down at the port, I then went to the Saturday market and TOOK THE REST OF THE DAY OFF!  A call came from Allan’s brother and I thought another family emergency was about to ensue…but it was just a discussion, nothing involving more emergency trips to Seattle.  There is a light, maybe not sunlight, a sense of warmth, nothing to do with summer because the weather is still freakishly cold…but I think that in about a week we may actually start to catch up after what has been the hardest spring planting season I have ever experienced..

Saturday Market plant booth

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across the river in a storm

After three days of madly planting Cosmos, including Cosmos ‘Sonata’ in all the Long Beach main street planters, we learned a major storm was about to hit the coast.  Even if I had known of the wonderfully informative blog by weather expert Professor Mass, I wouldn’t have seen the storm warning in time to abort Monday’s planting session.  I only hope those little cosmos are holding their own as today we had the power out for two hours in the early evening and have had 55 mph winds.

Because there was no hope of actually gardening, we left a sheltered patio full of waiting plants and headed to Oregon to check out all the local  nurseries as far as the Seven Dees’ just south of Seaside, about a 45 minute drive. Locally, this is known as “going overseas’ and involves crossing the long Astoria bridge, a venture that increasingly car-phobic me does not like at the best of times. The lure of plants was strong, so off we went, hoping to beat the storm’s early afternoon arrival.

Astoria bridge work

Astoria bridge

There’s bridge work going on with flaggers that slows down traffic. I prefer that. Big oncoming traffic terrifies me. There is nowhere to go sideways.

up the Astoria bridge

Here we go up the high part….

down the bridge curve

Here we go down the bridge curve.  I particularly dislike this part.

my nemesis

Here we are about to curve  to the stoplight to go either right toward Seaside and Cannon Beach or left to downtown Astoria.

roundabout

I’m also perplexed and filled with anxiety throughout the roundabout (left) right before the Young’s Bay Bridge, leaving Astoria for Warrenton.  Allan, who shares almost none of my phobias, has his own little problem, since he thinks those big cement blocks at the top of that bridge structure  (right) might just fall on our heads.

Young’s Bay Bridge view

I try to distract myself with the view toward the Columbia River.

We took a detour down the turnaround in Seaside, Oregon, to show you the streetside gardens there…photographed from the car, on the move, because we were in a great big hurry to beat the storm.  Sometimes I am happy because the Long Beach gardens look better.  In the spring, I can occasionally feel mine are better because I plant more tulips. But today Seaside’s were looking pretty darn good.  Their gardeners have the advantage, I tell myself, of slightly bigger curbside plantings….

Seaside street garden

Seaside street garden

Seaside street garden

view, Seaside turn around

The end of the Seaside turn around provides this ocean view.

Seven Dees nursery used to be Raintree, Seaside, not the same as the Raintree in Morton (?), and I loved the staff and was always greeted warmly.  Now there is a new staff and, in my opinion, a disappointing selection of plants to add to the Long Beach containers. Even though it was midweek, and perhaps this week’s delivery had not come, I’ve never run across such slim pickings there.  I was hoping for an exciting osteospermum or agyranthemum of a colour not available locally…just a little something to add a few of to supplement the wonderful local selection…but didn’t find much.

Seven Dees

The container gardens were nice, and if I hadn’t such a great plant selection here on the peninsula, I would have found a lot more to buy here.  In previous years, they always had something rare, something new, something I just had to have a tray of for the planters.

I do love this little tree and have three in my own garden, and cannot remember its name, and had I been seeking them would have been thrilled to find this happy batch.We stopped at Costco (catfood and coffee, not plants) and Home Depot, where I always check to see if they might have just one special sort of plant.  Usually I do find one thing, and this time it was a showy Penstemon in a gallon pot. At Fred Meyer, where some years I’ve found some spectacular and unusual osteospermums with ringed centers, I did find a whole flat of Salvia ‘Victoria’ and Salvia ‘Striata’.  I am sure that some years they have a plant nut buyer…and some years…not.

view from old bridge

We took the back road past Fort Clatsop so we could stop at Brim’s Farm and Garden (and Lewis and Clark Nursery, which had nothing to offer my planter collection).  I knew Brim’s would have something good; they always do, even though the nursery part of the shop is small.

Henry, greenhouse cat

Henry, with warm fur

Not only did I find a flat of high quality Armeria ‘Joy Stick’ and another of the gorgeous Viola ‘Etain’, but in the back greenhouse I got to pet this sweet and friendly cat who had been lolling in a warm spot.

Beautiful window boxes and window frames lined the walls of the outdoor section of the nursery.

container at Brim’s

container detail

I loved this container back in the greenhouse with its gorgeous echevarria.

from the top of the bridge looking down

I know people who cannot drive across this bridge at all…and others who cross it regularly without a qualm. The fierce wind pushed our little car sideways, and for once I was glad it is low to the ground.

One thing that distracts me as we come up the scary curve to the highest spot is the view of the old houses in Astoria. I wonder what it’s like to have the curving onramp to the bridge in your home’s view all the time?I have rarely been so relieved to get home; we took a short detour down to the port, where the red flag, denoting bad weather, was flying in the 55 mph winds.

My conclusion: Except for a couple of Penstemons and that flat of Viola ‘Etain’, and the flat of Salvias ‘Victoria’ and Striata’, I found little to add to our palette of plants,  and I left a message on the Facebook wall of the owner of our local Basket Case nursery (she also creates the wonderful hanging baskets you’ll see around our towns) and let her know that her nursery rules them all.

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update part three: what brings joy

The tension has been high with family crises happening during peak planting season, and I’ve been in a state of worry over my plants which await in greenhouses to be planted.  To keep the business moving, I’ve worked, I think, 28 of the last thirty days, so today is a day of recovery and should be a day of removing detestable sweet woodruff from at least one of my own garden beds.  Instead, here I sit blogging.  Blogging and thinking of the huge amount of planting that must be done, should be done, should be being done now.

Cosmos, waiting and waiting

In a greenhouse, Cosmos wait for me…and this only shows part of the batch.  On my patio, flats and flats of Salvia viridis and gallons and gallons of Salvia patens wait to go to Long Beach and many other gardens.  I suppose you might as well all know now that I have a driving phobia so I don’t have the option of renting a truck, while Allan is gone, and getting right onto the planting!  So…what brings joy to this stressed out gardener?

crazy cat

Cats bring joy, like this crazy cat who pestered me incessantly but charmingly last time we worked at Steve’s garden.  Note, on right, the dead mouse and the satisfied feline look.  Also, yesterday when I got home from puttering with the Ilwaco planters, I found my own sweet cat, Dumbles, asleep on my pillow.  Adorable.  And our peculiar cat, Maddy, has less stinky ears now because the ear drops are working.  Thus: joy.

flicker on our roof

While Allan was gone to Seattle for 5 days, I discovered that the source of hammering on the roof was my favourite local bird, the Northern or Common Flicker.  I stood and laughed while it hammered and made its nutty woody pecker call.

big horse

Justin

While planting annuals at the Red Barn, I am always filled with happiness at the sight of the horses.  Left is, I think, Diane Carter’s horse, and to the right, a new baby named Justin.  Testament to how busy we are: I did not even have time to wait for Justin to take a more photogenic pose!

bird nest

(Above) This wasn’t much joy for the would-be mother bird, but we were interested when we found this nest while buying annuals at the Planter Box greenhouse.  Bird nests are just so cunning.  If eggs had been laid, the nursery owners would have not sold this flat of plants till the babies hatched, but we did not even see the nest till we had pulled the plants away from it.

fringed tulip

viola face

Flowers bring joy with the amazing crystalline edges of Tulip ‘Cummins’ in a Long Beach planter, and the particularly precious face on a viola.

miraculous Allium albopilosum

I was thrilled to see this Allium blooming at Andersen’s RV Park,  because I had written in an earlier post about how this particular one had come up terribly early, while its neighbours had the sense to keep their heads down, and I thought its bud had completely frozen, but here it was last week looking lovely.

plant haul

A day trip to meet with my dear friend and sister horthead Sheila at Joy Creek and Cistus  nurseries brought us a great haul of collectible plants for our various clients, and nothing is more satisfying than that.  [Two years later I wrote two flashbacks about that that buying trip.].

A couple of working moments brought the kind of gratification that makes one realize how many people do appreciate one’s efforts.  While we were gardening at Sea Nest, halfway up the Peninsula, a neighbour gave me a bag of freshly made chocolate chip cookies over the fence and told me it was in appreciation of our work on the Long Beach planters….and while we were working on those very planters, we were told by a passing couple that they had spoken to us while we gardened on the beach approach the previous year and that they had since bought a house and moved to Long Beach and had told one of the city councillors that it was “because of two things: the nice clean public bathrooms in town and the beautiful planters downtown!” What a great compliment for both us and the hard-working Long Beach city crew.

There’s not very much of my life that is not about gardening, but one thing lately that has brought me enormous pleasure is adding photo content to the Discover Ilwaco Facebook page….

Ilwaco Saturday Market

….and of course, some of those photos get right back to garden appreciation:

flowers on Lake Street

lupines, Discovery Garden, Ilwaco 

(I’m still hoping Ilwacoans will contribute photos of their gardens for use in the garden album on the Discover Ilwaco page.)

a sea of sweet woodruff

Meanwhile, at home, I actually got two wheelbarrows of the annoying sweet woodruff out of one garden bed yesterday evening, and am about to go work on that some more. (I would like to go back in time and tell myself not to plant it!)  If I get a burst of late afternoon energy, I can put in two to three hours of weeding, but today I decided that what would give me the utmost satisfaction would be catching up on this blog, memorializing Ruth’s garden, and then getting out at least three more wheelbarrows of weeds. (Okay, after doing the Facebook nursery tour album, I now have less gardening time yet.  Which leads to the question: when seeking joy, is it more fun to garden or to write about gardening?)

P.S.  I’ll admit to a another relaxing interlude yesterday, when perhaps I should have gone to weed a client’s Ilwaco garden, I went to the Olde Towne Coffee Cafe and had me a little sit-down and social time….something I usually don’t take time for during gardening season…and enjoyed the quiet pleasure of a leisurely half an hour with a breve, coffee cake, and the local paper’s letters to the editor.

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update part two: Ruth’s garden

(Written in 2010: Reblogged in 2013 to show that the gorgeous house is for sale.  It sold in late 2013.)

Allan is in Seattle at his mother’s funeral as I write this, and I am remembering her and her garden.  Because his trip involved a day of preparation and, afterwards, a day of legal and family matters, I have stayed here to work yesterday and tomorrow, and to have this one day off, theoretically to do some desperately needed work in our own garden. But at this moment, I am reminisicing about Ruth’s lovely garden.  By the time I got to know her, her health prevented her from doing much gardening, but she had designed a landscape with such elegant and Asian-influenced structure that even without the annual colour which she used to add, the tranquil atmosphere remained.

Ruth’s front garden

Ruth and Dale’s house was originally in the path of the freeway; Dale had it moved and rebuilt it in a north Seattle neighbourhood where it stands out like a fairytale cottage surrounded by more modern (fifties style) houses. She used to fill that triangular area by the front door with annual colour.

Ruth’s back garden

By the lower side of the house is a quiet, green back garden, where she continually struggled to have a patch of perfect lawn under the trees.  While that was an ongoing dilemma, the surrounding beds were filled with good shrubs and perennials, well arranged and soothing to the eye. I used to tell her that a moss “lawn” would fit in well with the Japanese garden style, and I think if we had had more time we might have been able to help with some sort of river rock look…But the small problem with the lawn was miniscule in comparison to the charm of the entire garden, and her determination to make that lawn a success was a source of many garden conversations around the kitchen table. While I had known Allan since we were in high school, we were only together for the last few years of Ruth’s life, so I never saw the garden at its peak of her gardening.  Its continued good looks were a testament to her good design.

in Ruth’s back garden

looking toward fish pond

Ruth’s lawn and garden

In the back corner of the lower garden is a fish pond with a waterfall, built by Dale. You could see the fish and feed them from a window in the daylight basement. Because of the way the house sits on the hill, Ruth said door to door salespeople would go first to the back door, then to the front door, thinking they were at two different houses.

view of new house

It was rather a shock when, during the Seattle real estate building boom of 2005, a monstrous new house was built across the street, where once had been a small house and a soothing backdrop of trees.  The view from Ruth’s back yard was radically changed and she had plans and hopes for some new plantings to bring the green, enclosed feeling back.

daylight basement window

Ruth also excelled at growing houseplants, and when Dale rebuilt the house she asked him to design this window overlooking the back garden sanctuary.  The indoor planting bed actually goes down into the earth and makes one feel indoors and outdoors at the same time….

fern walk

Walking along NE 90th Street, one would pass the bed of sword ferns and white primroses and the trees that Ruth and Dale had planted in the parking strip.  One thing Allan and I could do for Ruth when we would visit in February for the garden show was to prune back the ferns so they were all fresh and green each year.  If we had lived in Seattle, we might have worked with her to add some cool perennials instead of lawn to that slope by the street; what a great space for a plant palette that would have been! Allan tells me there was some unfortunate pruning of the shrubs in 2009 by an inexperienced garden crew, so if one of my Seattle friends does walk by, the garden might not look as green as I remember it!

weeping tree

Ruth told me the common name of this gorgeous tree outside the front door.  It would try to revert to straight-up, and Allan or I would get into the center and prune out those branches, as she used to do when she had more vigor.  She told me that it had amazing foliage colour in the fall.

close up of weeping tree

If any reader knows what this tree is, please let me know!

side view of the house from NE 90th

bonding over cool plants

For several garden shows, we stayed at Ruth and Dale’s house and would always bring a couple of cool, shade perennials to add to her back garden.  One summer we went to the Bainbridge in Bloom tour…sadly, Ruth was too frail to accompany us to any of these garden events.  We filled her patio temporarily with the stash of collectible plants till we left to transport them back to Peninsula gardens and she admired and discussed each one.  (You can see her tree fuchsias and baskets in the background). Of course, we had added a few special plants to her garden on that weekend (Brunnera ‘Looking Glass’ being one).

The whole time I wrote this was the time her funeral was going on in Seattle.  Ruth, thinking of you…

Ruth Marie FRITZ Ruth Marie Fritz, 80, was born to Beulah and Leo Fones on May 23, 1929 in Julesberg, CO and died at her home May 3, 2010 in Seattle, WA. She was surrounded by family as she passed away. Ruth was raised in Salinas, California and attended San Francisco City College School of Nursing and completed her training through Children’s Hospital. It is there she met Dale Fritz and they married on August 27, 1950. They have been happily married for 59 years. Ruth leaves behind loving husband Dale and their children, Allan Fritz (Skyler) Ilwaco, WA, Robert Fritz Seattle, WA, and Pam Stockman (John) Seattle, WA. Ruth is also survived by brother Harold Fones (Dorothy) Cayucos, CA, sister-in-law Dorothy Lindstrom, Minneapolis, MN, numerous nieces and nephews, and granddaughter Pearl Fritz. Ruth was a kind and nurturing wife, mother and homemaker tending to all details for a rich, beautiful home and family life. Ruth was a lifetime member of Beta Sigma Phi Sorority and longtime Camp Fire Girl leader, leaving a legacy of service, good character, and stewardship of the environment for many women who have been touched by her. A Celebration of her Life will be held at University Lutheran Church, 1604 NE 50th St., Seattle, Thursday, May 13, 2010 at 1pm with reception following. Remembrances can be made to King County Search and Rescue Association @ King County Sheriff’s Office, 7300 Perimeter Road South, Room 143 Seattle, WA 98108-3848.

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update, part one of three (the whining)

boat in nearby boatyard, with appropriate name

Because Allan’s mother, in Seattle, became ill and then passed away, with attendant pain and family turmoil, and some catharsis and healing, this journal has been silent for weeks.  With Allan going back and forth to Seattle, keeping the two-person business going became too time consuming to think about blogging.  I did imagine a post in which I apologized for constantly going on about finger blight and vandalism, so I’ll get the latest evidence out of the way first…

Pulled out Euonymous in Long Beach planter

trashed daylily in Long Beach planter

daylily’s untrashed partner

My latest mystified tale:  We found the large Euonymous shrub, above left, pulled out and dying; it dates back to when the planter was done by a dedicated volunteer who had three planters, each with two Escallonia and two golden Euonymous. Because the balance of the planter was completely thrown off, we had to remove the other Euonymous (they weren’t holding up well to the wind on that corner, anyway) and it was difficult, and took effort with a shovel, and led to much wondering about how hard it must have been to vandalize the first one.  Was someone trying to steal this common shrub and got interrupted?  Meanwhile, in the planter just half a block down, one daylily (also from a former volunteer) had all of its foliage stripped off and thrown around the sidewalk, while its symmetrical partner remained untouched.

With the family sadness going on, I was plugging along stoically until we got to a job where some cottages (not Klipsan Beach Cottages) where we garden were being painted, and found the painters had trampled and turned to irretrievable mush a bed of precious Allium christophii and schubertii.  I embarassingly burst into tears and fled the scene–the only time I have cried during this whole ordeal, and then wrote an email of apology to the innkeeper, a woman I like and admire, saying perhaps I should wait till after the painting was done to return to the garden as I seem unable to cope with garden-trampling at all right now.  It was mortifying.

I try to have the point of view that Allan proposed: That for every one of the many compliments we get while working on the planters, there are dozens more who appreciate them, compared to a few vandals and heavy-footed painters.  (But okay, I had envisioned the painters walking BEHIND the special plantings to get to the cottage wall, not back and forth straight through the front of the bed.  Next time I will be proactive and will put HOOPS around all precious things the minute I hear any work will be done.  And again, to L. the innkeeper, I am so, so sorry!)

So Allan came back from a poignant five day visit to Seattle where he was able to bid goodbye to his mother, a woman who loved her exquisite rather formal and Asian-influenced garden. She still lingered, but we needed to get the town of Long Beach looking perfect for its annual parade.  Only desperate times require working in torrential rain, and this was one of those times:

Allan planting in the rain

The annual parade falls at an awkward time for the gardens: May 1st, while the tulips and narcissi are going south but need to have their tatty foliage ripened, and before the nights are warm enough for the planting of tender annuals.  We pop in some perennials with colourful foliage, but not too many because we must leave room for cosmos and painted sage, and other showy summer annuals.

Ilwaco planter with road closed sign

While all this was going on, I was not best pleased to find that before Ilwaco’s own parade, the crew used our planters as props for their road closed signs the night before.  By this time I was so emotionally spent that I just rolled my eyes and muttered and moved and propped the signs against nearby fences and walls instead.

We also had a continuing invasion of deer in our garden during the same three weeks: Out the window in the morning, there they would be, one or two at a time.  Allan chased them gently around the garden to try to find where they would escape and they refused to reveal their secret entrance, instead standing by the gate and waiting for him to open it for them. He took a few blurry photos because the critters were on the move.  In our garden’s current unkempt weedy state, I can only tell that they have munched on quite a few roses.

deer in our garden

Also, the frakking mosquitos came out, which is surely the most trivial complaint of all, but I rather liked this photo of essential garden equipment:

essentials

Aside from the usual garden tools, essential for this weather: a coat, which comes on and off every few minutes as the weather changes, and some sort of mosquito repellent: We usually try something gentle and organic and then out comes the Deet-y off deep woods spray!

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