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Posts Tagged ‘our garden’

I had had a sort of plan to take a break next week, because the 15th of October is the 8 year anniversary of buying our house on Lake Street.  That year, we took two weeks off to paint the dark and gloomy inside of our double wide and then to move in and begin to unpack. No one seemed to miss us at work!

However, when I learned the bulbs were due to arrive on October 12th, that idea was kiboshed, because I want to get bulb time over with.  This might therefore be our last long weekend till November (unless we get a spate of rainy days).

Friday, 5 October 2018

Glorious rain meant that I could spend a guilt free day indoors reading Marion Cran. But first, we delivered a bouquet to Don and Jenna for art night.  I was glad I had picked it just before dark the night before.

pouring torrential rain and some wind (outside the garage door)

tried to capture the way rain drops were sharply cascading off the front arbor

the bouquet (Allan’s photo)

Don and Jenna at Don Nisbett Art Gallery (Allan’s photo)

At the gallery: new Harmony Soapworks soap, with art by Don, with the scent of S’mores!

view from Don Nisbett Art Gallery

At home, the cats were in for the day.

Skooter

Frosty

I settled into my chair, with no guilt when I glanced at the window.

I then turned to Marion Cran’s 1933 book, I Know a Garden:

The descriptions of birds at Marion’s bird feeder should delight my favourite blogger, Mr. Tootlepedal.

Later, at a friend’s house:

And later:

About weeds:

Allan was busy all day printing books for his book fair table tomorrow.  At 5;30, I briefly considered going to Art Night.  I did not relish walking in the rain and wind, and my book held me fast to my comfy chair.

Saturday, 6 October 2018

We’d had more rain than the rain gauge shows; it had been full of compostable debris during the storm.

after removing the debris

Allan was gone to the book fair by the time I woke up.  A beautiful day, as predicted, thwarted my desire to read another Marion Cran book.

I planted a few of the plants that Todd had brought me.

in a “stone trough”….

I had little ‘Quaint and Queer’ years ago and am happy to have it back.

Skooter helped, and you can see that the grass has turned green again in the dry areas where it had gone all brown and crispy in August.  I may have already mentioned that we’ve had the driest summer in about 60 years.

He wore himself out helping.

After a happy afternoon of layering compost in the bins, I decided to dig up and transplant some Conca D’Or lilies (tall and pale buttery yellow) to make a better view through a part of the west bed.

before

after

I think I will remove one more clump of three or four stalks and take them up to the Shelburne, later. One well cleaned bulb will go to the fire station garden. The ones I dug today got spread around three new areas of the east and west bed.  I have to be careful because some of the thicker clumps of bulbs cannot leave the west bed; they are infested with the Saponaria ‘Flore Pleno’.

Look, my new white persicaria from Digging Dog nursery is blooming!

Persicaria amplexicaulis ‘Alba’

I was suddenly inspired to slightly reduce the width of the grass path on Roxanne Loop West.

before

after

Allan returned from the book fair just in time to dump two barrows full of sod for me.

Allan’s day

He thought the signage needed some help.

After his fix:

Book fair:

Librarians; we love them!

Our friend Jan Bono, whose cozy mystery series we heartily recommend.

Allan sold 7 books…and bought four books from local writers!  His book, Southwest Washington Paddle Trips, may be available at Time Enough Books at the port by the time you read this.  It is for sure available on October 13th in the gift shop of the Columbia Pacific Heritage Museum, where you might be attending the Cranberrian Fair.

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In the effort to catch up in book reports, I will begin with the book I recently finished.  (This means I have skipped over the two Morville books by Katherine Swift; I hope to catch up on book reporting later this autumn.)

The Prickotty Bush by Montague Don

Those who have read Monty and Sarah Don’s The Jewel Garden know that they loved and lost a garden due to financial woes, long before Monty was the famous garden show presenter that he now is.

I read The Prickotty Bush, the story of that garden, slowly over a few weeks of this exhauting, rain-free summer, just a few pages before bedtime.

Its somber cover goes along with the somber subject of a garden under siege by the bank and an obsessed man trying to make a garden as quickly as possible.

Here are some of my favourite bits:

On the imposition of order by pruning:

Also known as Something Shiny Syndrome:

The bullying wind:

On doing it all oneself:

Interestingly, in one of the next books I read, Marion Cran wrote about the same thing.

Below, I identify with Montagu’s urgency.  I felt, at age 55, when I started the Lake Street garden, that I had to get it laid out the first winter during a two month staycation, no matter what the weather.

30 December 2010, gardening in ice-crusted soil

On time in the garden (shared because I love what he says about human aging):

On how to look at your garden:

On garden design:

On plant names:

Friday, 14 September 2018

Frosty rejoiced that I had the day at home.

He was vocal about it.

Rain gauges from last night:

Even the slowest filling rain barrel was almost full:

I think I might need to remove a hebe.  I set it in the spot below, in a wooden planter, and it has rooted into the ground, broken the planter apart, and is about to block our path.  It pulls debris out of the wheelbarrow when I pass by. And yet it is so grand.

From my window I had seen an exciting glow:

Kniphofia ‘Earliest of All’

I had tried in late winter to divide it and transplant some to the center bed.  So far, this is all the transplants have done after many months:

puny

My goal today was to deal with the basket plantings brought home from Long Beach.

In bin two, I had a pile of all green debris on top of brown.  I wanted to layer them, green and brown, into bin four.

Four hours later:

I got just this much compost from bin 2, which had not had much time to decompose since the last time I turned it.

Because I feel anxious about the financial aspect of retirement, I rejoice in any compost that I can make instead of buying mulch.  It’s good practice for more frugal years. Compost turning and sifting is an activity that relaxes and pleases me ever so much.

After a couple of rains, the rest of the basket root balls will be easier to break apart.

I wish I had a before photo of where Allan helped me dig out a big orangey grass that had seeded into the front of the east bed.  I needed some room for other plants, and have many others of this grass that I originally got from Pam Fleming’s former nursery.

left, some of the many that are left; right, a new empty space (not for long)

Salvia africana-lutea and an matching spider

Saturday, 15 September 2018

At last, I had a glorious rainy reading day, all Marion Cran.

First, I went through my book marks in her first book, which I finished two nights ago,  to photograph my favourite bits to share in a later post.

When I first opened my used English edition of The Garden of Ignorance, I found these inside:

All the way from Old Blighty, perhaps; there is nothing on the back of the picture.

Today I read all of The Garden of Experience and more than half of the third book of her autobiographical series, The Story of My Ruin.  She will get more than one of a series of blog posts when I have time to write more about the summer’s reading.

Here is just one excerpt that echoes Monty Don’s words about having to make one’s garden all by oneself.  In Cran’s world of the 1920s, that meant with the help of a gardener, but the garden owner also knew where every plant was and did much of the work herself.

I hope to offer you many more shared thoughts about Marion later this year.  Meanwhile, I enjoyed the endpiece to The Garden of Ignorance:

 

 

 

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Sunday, 26 August 2018

Due to a light rain overnight that was enough to fill all the rain barrels, I was suddenly inspired to plant a few ladies in waiting.  I tried to talk myself out of it, as surely I should wait for autumn and more regular rain.  Later, I read that some of my northwest gardening Facebook friends had succumbed to the same urge.

this much rain in the yellow rain gauge.

The cats were pleased to have me home.

It’s a darn shame I can’t dredge up a before photo of the area below, showing how a Leptospermum ‘Squiggly’ was all jammed in sideways next to the Cistus ‘Mickie’, reaching for the light.  I risked killing Squiggly by moving it.  It had to be done.

during

I pruned it to try to regain its upright habit.

new spot in the east bed, before…

and after pruning. Good luck, little one.

I planted a clematis from Windcliff, whose tag must be kicking around on the ladies in waiting table, and a Baeckia in a newly cleared area. (I saw a baeckia while garden touring near Seattle and was smitten.)

I decided that the West Willows Loop path was unnecessarily wide at the beginning.

before

after

Why do we edge with rocks and logs?  Well….if I had more soil to build up behind the rocks, there would be a good reason.

I took a break during the middle of the above project because Allan decided to cut a branch I had asked him to cut.  He went to the one branch on the purple ornamental rather ugly plum tree that I had mentioned two or three weeks ago, that hangs over parked cars on the front sidewalk.

before

after (Allan’s photos)

The branch was down before I told him I had changed my mind about that one, and that what I meant was the alder branch I had showed him last weekend.  (It would require some low climbing which is why I had not done it myself.)  I went back to the alder grove to find him in a completely different alder cutting a big dead branch.

That inspired me to think about how a few more branches gone from that tree would better reveal my garbage can phormium and my eucalyptus.

before

after

I helped chop and pile all the debris.

Finally, Allan cut the branch that I really wanted cut today.

before, that twisty one

With it gone, the fuchsias underneath will get more light. Take my word for it, because I forgot an after photo.

Oh wait, is this one? Well…sort of:

At the end of the day:

a beautiful rose.

This winter, I hope to find my rose receipts so that I can identify that one.

Saponaria ‘Flore Pleno’ redeeming itself for being such a runner.

looking southeast

Allan had also mowed the green back portion of the lawn, as well as pruning.

Monday, 27 August 2018

Because of some more drizzly rain, I decided we would dare to take Monday off from work watering.  The real reason was that I could not bear the thought of going to work.  I had not had enough time at home.

The rain barrels were full.

The weather was perfect, not windy, not too hot, with a crisp autumnal feeling in the air. I got the big yellow pick for a big project—finally.  Into the yellow rain gauge it went (with a new collection of rain; the yellow rain gauge got used and dumped yesterday).

I was at last inspired to make my bogsy wood stepping stone path.  It has been lingering for almost a year on the work board list of home garden projects, even after all of the weeding list got erased over the summer.

before: I had been piling some extra stepping stones there since last winter.

The reddish stones had come from former client Rita Nicely, back when we used to do her garden.  I had to quit that and two other private gardens when Allan and I lost a part time helper and decided to go it alone. Rita’s garden is now in the capable hands of Shelly and Terran of Flowering Hedge Design.

looking north from inside the area I was clearing, with Skooter by the fire circle.

Skooter got off the fire circle bench and came to help me.

“I halp.”

I could not pick all of the salmonberry out because of the alder roots, so some of it I clipped and will continue to clip.

before

I did wield the pick mightily where the path will go.

before

Skooter returned to the bench.

I disturbed a large frog while weeding (fortunately not while picking).

It hopped over and found a new home behind some pieces of metal that I had leaned against a trunk.

impromptu frog house

my helper again

Allan had asked earlier why I was making a path through this natural area.  Skooter understood and approved.  He sat on many of the rocks right after they were laid down.

I scavenged the front garden for a two more piles of the paver rocks I had been saving and commandeered Allan from his desk, where he was working on his self published boating book all day, to help fish some out rocks from the back of a raised bed on the north side of the house.

The rocks were wasted back there.

nice and mossy

Frosty felt no need to help.

I got the whole length of path done as I had hoped.  The problem in the future will be that the darned meianthemum (false lily of the valley) is thick in here and will obscure the stones if I don’t manage to weed or string trim it.  But for now, I am quite pleased.

At the inner end, the rocks will make it possible to walk in the swale when it is damp.  Otherwise, the hard packed mud is treacherously slick and slippery.

bogsy swale looking east

Then the path goes north between the two hillock shade beds.

As for the area below, it still has salmonberry roots and needs some soil added (which I do not have) in order to plant a few more things on the side of the hillock.  Let’s revisit that before:

before

and after:

Another revisited before:

before

after

before

after

Looking across the fire circle border, I can see the rocks (now, at least) and I feel well chuffed.  I will probably find a few more matching rocks to widen the path during winter garden clean up.

looking south

Now I need to find a way to make the area where salmonberry must be clipped, where the alder roots are too thick to plant, and where the shade is deep, more interesting, to make it worthwhile to take a walk on the path.

Skooter agreed it was a day’s work well done.

Allan’s only photo for Monday is of half of an overgrown cucumber and one of our many apples that garnished tonight’s dinner.

 

 

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Friday, 24 August 2018

reader photo: 

Lorna (formerly of Andersen’s RV Park) recently returned from a trip to Norway, where she found these planters and sit spots in Oslo.  “As usual, I’ve kept an eye out for street flowers in which you might be interested. Nothing….until tonight walking along the 5 mike long!! harbor front promenade. Don’t know about watering needs but certainly no deadheading.”

At home…

last night’s night blooming cereus flower was done…

..and I enjoyed the first of three days off with a few accomplishments in the garden.

Frosty was especially glad to have me home for the day.

I dipped out every rainwater barrel with our five gallon green jugs (wonderfully useful reusable kitty litter jugs with lids).  And filled every watering can.  The rainwater is all saved now and the barrels and bins are ready to fill up again if the forecast of rain comes true.  This should help with conserving water in September, one of the four months per year on which our water bill is based. (Three days later, I was relieved to find out that the autumn months of water averaging are October and November, not September.)

Continuing the theme of heavy lifting, I divided the fifty pound bag of grit, purchased from the Planter Box on Wednesday, into two buckets.  This is what I bought.  I hope it is the sort of grit that Monty Don speaks of so often on Gardeners’ World.  Is it?

I greatly enjoyed turning compost bin four into compost bin two, skipping empty bin three altogether.  This now gives me TWO empty bins into which I will start combining green clippings with the older brown stems of compost material.

The cats hung out together next to the compost bins, in the shade.

before

sifting

putting larger stuff back onto the pile

This dry and not at all rich partial wheelbarrow is all bin four had to give me…

…along with potato bugs and a very large spider.

six hours later, a huge mountain of compost in bins one and two, with bins three and four empty

It probably only took a couple of hours to sift through bin four.  I did other garden puttering during breaks from compost sifting.

Cosmos ‘Cupcake’ appreciation.

and Cosmos ‘Psyche’, probably

hips of Rosa moyesii

Geranium ‘Rozanne’ clambering into Rosa glauca (rubrifolia)

Allan weeded and beautifully mulched his own garden, and took no photos of befores and afters.  Here is a photo from two days later, when we did indeed have a fine spell of rain.

mulched with Gardner and Bloome Soil Conditioner

I continue to read The Prickotty Bush by Montagu Don, just a little bit every evening.

Every evening, I try to figure out what the cover photo is supposed to be.

It’s a poignant tale of creating a garden whilst knowing it might be lost for financial reasons.

Friends who have Seasonal Affective Disorder might find this article about Monty Don’s experiences with depression interesting and comforting.  I appreciate his honesty about his condition because I also suffer from depression on and off, although it tends to be situational rather than season; winter (Reading Time!) is my favourite season.  Perhaps when I can retire or partially retire, summer will be my favourite.

Tomorrow begins a series of several posts about our wonderful Saturday with friends, touring gardens public and private on the north Oregon coast.

 

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Friday, 10 August 2018

My goal today, other than getting enough sleep in the morning, was to sift the compost from bin one, thus having one empty bin to start layering green and brown in, as clean clippings are now frequently created by deadheading and tidying. (I do not put weeds in my compost.)

The day started lovely and cool.


Agapanthus ‘Xera’s Cobalt’

Echinops (blue globe thistle)

Skooter wanted to help.

Bin one looked promising.

Skooter watching a bug.

first barrow of sifted compost

an excellent bin

Now Frosty wanted some attention.

Two and a quarter hours later, I had sifted and dumped five good wheelbarrows of luscious compost.  And then, ominously, the sky brightened.

And out came the sun.

With this much left to go, I went into the house, planning to finish in the evening:

The temperature read 77 degrees, much too hot for me.

I spent the afternoon and into the early evening catching up completely on writing this blog, an unusual occurrence as I tend to run days behind.  That took so long that I almost did not make it back outside in time.  We had been planning a campfire dinner, but almost as soon as Allan got some corn wrapped in foil, a light rain began.  I finished the compost project anyway.

Allan’s photos in the evening:

I realized from the heavy fragrance that my brugmansia had its first flower.

rainwater for the barrels

the final wheelbarrow

Frosty escaping the rain

a new layer of newspaper for the bottom of the bin

Mission accomplished!

 

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Tuesday, 24 July 2018

at home

I had let some friends know that our garden was at its peak lily time.  While Allan went grocery shopping over the river, I stayed home, gardened, and had some visitors (11, if you count the dogs).

front garden lilies, middle

front garden lilies, east side

back garden with Sanguisorba ‘Lilac Squirrel’

pale yellow Lily ‘Conca D’Or’

center bed, Geranium ‘Rozanne’ river, full of bees

east bed

Clematis ‘Rooguchi’

Lily ‘Salmon Star’ (pretty sure)

Frosty and Skooter

I had decided to not worry about the garden being weedy (mostly the little scrimmy horsetail and the dwarf fireweed).

The lilies’ first visitors were Amy, April, and Tricia from the port office on their all too short half hour lunch break.  Like many visitors, they were surprised that the garden is bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside.

Everyone likes the passion flowers.

They loved the honeysuckle mixed with hops and roses.

After they left, I had little energy for actual garden work.  I did set myself a small goal of sifting the fourth compost bin.  Over the course of the day, it provided several wheelbarrows of good compost.

Tony and Scott arrived with Rudy and Bailey and did a thorough tour of the garden.

Scott, Rudy, Bailey

Before they left, I wanted a photo of them all by the copper (painted) heart.  They were such a cute bunch that I forgot to get the heart properly showing.

I went back to my compost sifting, ever so slowly.

found a compost resident

finally got the bottom of the bin

I shifted the next bin over.  It had no good stuff to sift out.

In the late afternoon, Mark and Joe, two local gardeners, came by with Joe’s daughter Bella.  (I have visited Mark’s garden twice and blogged about it here.)  Bella, 9 years old, was a treat to observe in the garden.  She noticed everything and would say “I’m going to try to get lost now!” and run off to the bogsy wood, or through the door to the meadow to the west, or around behind the shed.  We would hear her voice from afar calling, “I’m lost now!”  I wish I could experience my garden as a child would, between age 4 and 10.  I am sure it would be as memorable as a few gardens I visited with my grandma as a child.

Skooter let her pick him up and lug him around—twice! He won’t let us do that.

Allan came home before they departed and was amazed to see, out the back window, Skooter being carried:

Allan’s photo

Allan and I got to hold Joe and Bella’s tiny dog.

Later, thinking about Bella’s reaction to the garden, I had some childhood garden memories: Lying on a hammock in a flower filled garden while Gram visited with friends.  The sky a bright blue overheard; I was sure I was looking at the very center of the sky.

And going down a flight of steps next to a pond in a garden on Phinney Ridge, a garden belonging to Gram’s best friends, May Lancaster and Addie.  I would love to be able to find that garden again.

And getting “lost” in the big woodland driveway circle bed—probably small in reality—at my uncle’s house in Shoreline.  How big was it, really?  Here it is now; my cousin who inherited the house seems to have tidied and landscaped it.  Pretty big, really. Those big trees may the the same ones I played under.

via Google street view (with Puget sound in the background; house valued at $1,717,700. !

I wish I could find May and Addie’s old garden to look at online. Maybe the pond is still there.

 

 

 

 

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Monday, 16 July 2018

After a windy Sunday spent mostly blogging out the Markham/Grayland tour, we got back to work.

Ilwaco

Allan remembered that we needed to water some plants we had planted at the end of last week. Allan planted a Crambe maritima (sea kale) from the Master Gardeners sale in Grayland.

We are also trying out a Teucrium ‘Purple Tails’ from the Markham Farm garden.

Allan’s photo

The new rudbeckia clump was wilting.  I was so glad Allan had remembered to check it.  It got well soaked.

It was fine the next morning.

Long Beach

We pulled horsetail at the welcome sign and I wondered why, even though I did not fertilize them, in hopes they would not bolt up with no flowers till late in the summer, the cosmos are beautifully green…with only one flower so far.

At least the cosmos helps disguise the horsetail.

 

one cosmos flower so far, on the north side

the resident of the water timer box (Allan’s photo)

Before starting to water downtown, we called an emergency meeting with the powers that be about a matter that I am not going to write about.   I try not to bring gardening problems to the city and have succeeded, with two exceptions, for twenty years. (Twenty years of Long Beach gardening, maybe even longer…I can hardly remember when I began.) Having passed the problem on, I am now able to put the matter out of my mind, but I also felt quite firmly that I can no longer imagine tottering on till I’m 70 or 80 (should I be so lucky) with the city job (planters, parks, beach approaches, parking lot berms).  I have imagined for years that I could not give it up, and yet this week I feel mentally exhausted; I have hit a wall (one that maybe I will end up able to climb over after all).

I could give the city gardens up if only someone was coming along behind us eager to take the job on.  It’s not my business to choose the person(s), but I sure would hope it would be someone with the focus (in my case gimlet eyed autistic focus on every little plant picture in town) to keep everything as perfect as possible.  (We constantly fail at that.)  Maybe it would be someone who dared plant even cooler plants, taking the risk they would be stolen.  Maybe it would be someone who’d remove my personal favourite perennials and plant something with a tidier look.

I’ve promised the parks manager to keep going for two more years, if they can all stand me that long, and I keep my promises, usually.  Are you the one who would like to take it on after that?  (A week later: I may have just the person in mind, someone I have talked to who is a good ornamental and container gardener, and fit (because it’s a hard job) and who would actually want and love this job.  I have no control over the city will hire when the time comes, but at least I can strongly recommend…)

Imagine being partially retired…I could keep up on reading other people’s blogs! Letting Long Beach go would immediately result in being half retired.  That would be cool.  The plan right now is two more years till then.

And yet I still hope to keep tottering along on the Ilwaco and the Shelburne gardens forever.  Forever is a long time, and yet it is a word that people invoke so easily (example: “forever homes” for animals, when we all know that homes end when we die).  So why can’t I imagine forever gardens at the port and the Shelburne? Maybe I will haunt them.

But enough of that.  We watered the street trees and planters.

Someone decided to go barefoot.

dahlias in a planter

I like my mini-meadow look in each planter.  It would be weird to see someone else’s probably much tidier approach.  I will have to come to grips with that.

It’s tigridia time.

an agastache reseeded in the gutter!

Tigridia (held still because of wind); AKA Mexican Shell Flower

Allan’s photo

parsley, lavender, santolina, Oregano ‘Hopley’s Purple’

Oregano ‘Hopley’s Purple’

I now have Oregano ‘Hopley’s Purple’ in almost every planter.  I love its angular shape.

A fellow came to me while I was watering and said how much he loved the planters. He was visiting from elsewhere.  He insisted on shoving a tip into my hand, the hand that was holding the hose….paper money in a surprising amount.  I said I water as a paid job but he would not take it back, so….I split it with Allan!

It was Allan’s turn to bucket water the four Fish Alley barrels.  He found that someone had trashed one of them, stealing a clump of sedums and ripping up the santolina in the process (or maybe trying to steal the santolina itself?):

evidence: dropped sedum bits and soil

Color coordinated lilies (with Bensons sign) in Fifth Street Park

I finally got another clump of lilies on the other side of that little garden bed:

still in bud

in a planter: The new Cosmos ‘Xanthos’ compared in size with Cosmos ‘Sonata’

We checked on the parking lot berms.  I had thought they would desperately need weeding, but only a goodly amount of the really quite pretty birds-foot trefoil was bothersome, so we were able to just drive on to the…

Shelburne Hotel

…where I watered, while Allan hurriedly removed a dahlia and planted a new sedum in one of the planters on the number four deck, before the guests arrived to check in.

Allan’s photo

The dahlia got rehomed in the garden.

Sedum ‘Double Martini’, Cosmos ‘Xanthos’, “society garlic”, purple alyssum (Allan’s photo)…and one dahlia that is tall enough to stay here

The new nandina on the center deck is doing well. (Allan’s photo)

The faucet that would make watering easier is not working yet; Allan schlepped water up the stairs in a bucket and then watered part of the outdoor garden.

We love to see guests photographing the garden. (Allan’s photo)

lilies and Nicotiana ‘Fragrant Cloud’ (Allan’s photo)

I cut the pollen off of the lilies that are next to the path and planted an astilbe and a fuchsia where we had taken a cordyline down last week.  Allan did a project at the north entrance to the restaurant:

This odd little nook had the native blackberry in it, often reaching out to where people walk.

In clearing it out, he found a plastic tub full of mud and water, and a broken pottery jar.

stinky old mud his foot would sink into

We will figure out a plant for in here.

Ilwaco

Allan watered the planters and street trees with the water trailer while I watered the boatyard with a nice new long hose that had appeared there.  Only had to use three hoses instead of four!  I even had time to do some weeding after watering.

Out of the ceanothus came my usual audience, my little feathered friend.

coming closer

The bird repeatedly sharpens? its little beak on the metal fence.

I’m not sure what that means.

Allan found that deer had been enjoying some planter nasturtiums.

Tuesday, 17 July 2018

I had big plans for this all Ilwaco day: weed and tidy at Mike’s garden, shear the shrubs at Coho Charters (Allan), water all the curbside gardens (mostly me) and weed at the boatyard (both of us).

Mike’s garden

Escallonia ‘Iveyi’

front garden needed more water

Allan tidied the path:

before

after

front garden, designed by “The Elves Did It” gardening business, years ago

I am trying to get the boxwood to be a solid hedge instead of little square clipped shapes.

Port of Ilwaco

At the port, I watered the east end curbside garden and did some weeding while Allan started shearing Coho’s escallonias.  Someone had accidentally driven over the end of our hose while Allan was attaching two hoses to reach the east curbside bed.  We now no longer had two hoses that would hook together today, so we took Captain Butch of Coho up on his offer to use his water instead.  The job was much easier by hooking our one hose up to his long hose, so I think the parking lot hose days are over for good.

As I was about to go on drag my hose to the other curbside gardens, a misty rain appeared and all of a sudden I just hit a wall and walked the two blocks home, putting everything else off till later in the week.  Allan kept shearing the three big escallonias.

before

after

before

after

before

during

after

one of the future Coho Charters captains

home

On my way home, I got to pet my neighbour, Rudder.

Good old Rudder snoozing in his front garden.

Puttering at home revitalized me.  I ran sprinklers and planted some of my new plants.

from The Pot Shed in Grayland

two more from the Pot Shed

a new sarracenia from the Master Gardener sale joins two others in a new container

It is almost the peak of lily time, most definitely the best time in my garden.

right: Sanguisorba ‘Lilac Squirrel’

Even though the mist had ceased, overnight we had enough light rain to make a puddle in the street (but not enough to fill the rain barrels).

 

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