Sunday, 7 February 2016
I had one more day off before getting back to work for a bit, so I made a list of everything I wanted to accomplish in the garden: finish the end of the scree bed, weed two patches of creeping buttercup, prune the hydrangeas. Allan was off boating, which will, I hope, be tomorrow’s post.
I felt terrible that on such a beautiful warm day, Smokey could not go outside. He still has a wound on his foot that must be treated daily and “kept open” (ew) so it does not abscess again, and I can’t have him out getting soil in the wound. A child I could perhaps tell, “You can go outside, but only play on the grass, not in the dirt.” That would not work on even the smartest cat.
Because I wished him to at least have a window view, I kept all the cats indoors for the day instead of shutting Smokey and Mary into the second bathroom. Even with the run of the house, he sat by the front door and expressed his desire quite strongly.
It reminded me of this Fat Freddy’s Cat cartoon…except I felt bad for him so it was not funny.
I had too many projects in mind to stay indoors with Smokey. My first was to remove all the blue ceramic “waves” at the stern of the garden boat, lay down landscape fabric and river rock, and then replace the waves.
I put the snails inside two stacked plastic pots and rehoused them in a wild area at the end of the day.
I will remember to put slug bait down inside this area, safe from cats and birds. The “waves” came from broken pieces of blue tiles that we were given back when we pruned hydrangeas for the blue-roofed house on the bay, and from some broken pottery from the old Raven and Finch wine bar at the Port.
Next project…I thought I might weed shotweed out of the center bed.
I took a panorama from the fire circle, looking north toward the house.
Then, postponing the center bed, I began to weed this bed (below) under a big alder tree. A windless day is advantageous for weeding under these brittle trees.
I have a feeling that I will regret having planted the ranunculus ficaria from my mother’s old garden.
An hour and quarter later, a gardening friend dropped in. I had gotten quite a bit done.
My friend and I sat on the patio. I gazed upon the fig tree that Allan had planted for me in the barrel yesterday. Eventually, its branches will be in front of my view window and I will be filled with regret.
All day long, I had missed having the cats with me out in the garden. Beverly Nichol’s words are true for me:
This cat ramp’s entrance is boarded up till Smokey can go out again…maybe five more days.
The center bed and the hydrangea pruning did not get done.
Ginger’s Garden Diaries
I am incorporating three old garden diaries of my mother’s into this year’s blog.
Feb 7, 1997 (age 72)
Only two hours! It was a beautiful day!
Brought firewood up to porch. First I had to move branches so I could get to the woodpile. I got the 100 new strawberry plants in trays under the lights in greenhouse. I also planted five of the new raspberry plants but was too tired to plant the 10 left so I put them in soil in buckets.
Feb 7, 1998 (age 73)
I weeded and raked the upper driveway and also cleaned out some old plants, such as glads, so the area will look more presentable when Skyler and Robert arrive tomorrow. She has been in Seattle this week to attend the Garden Show.