Monday, 18 March 2019
I woke to wind battering the house, sounding like a winter storm.
I so wanted to stay home with Frosty and Skooter. Frosty wanted nothing to do with the outdoors.
We resolved to try to finish the center parking lot berm in Long Beach, the one that mostly involves just string trimming.
The Veterans Field flags nearby showed the strong east wind. The temperature was warm and the east wind, usually icy cold, was just a bit cool.
Allan’s photo
I started work a half hour later than Allan because Jenna (Queen La De Da) was taking some items to her new Mermaid Sandcastle just across the parking lot.
After Jenna and I put the world to right, I joined Allan on the job.
Some of the mess of the center berm, with more of the miserable-to-weed crocosmia and rugosa rose combination:
Allan’s photo
The wind blew our wheelbarrow right over.
Allan’s photo
string trimmed and tidied (Allan’s photo)
Despite the wind, I wanted so much to erase santolinas AND berms from the work board that we went out to the Bolstad beach approach to trim the santolinas in the planters.
In the westernmost planter, I found that just in the last couple of weeks, someone had removed one of the large old santolinas, a project that would require standing on the bench or the dune wielding a shovel.
the hole
Most of the small plants have already been stolen. Now the big ones are the prey.
As I walked along, I found more large plants had been dug out. Up till now, most of the plants stolen could have been removed with hand tools.
This planter is also off balance with a big santolina removed from one side:
trimmed, for what it is worth (Allan’s photos)
Santolinas that size would not even transplant well and so probably the thief ended up with dead plants. The plants LIKED it out here in the salty wind and open air. They wanted to be left to live their quiet lives.
windy and fuming
trimming some ground level santolinas
Of course, the many blocks long ground level garden needs weeding….but not in lousy weather of any sort.
finding another planter with large stolen santolina…or rather, without it
Just every OTHER grape hyacinth dug up and stolen…how thoughtful to leave some.
A sea thrift used to be where that hole is.
This poor fella got replanted.
These planters used to all have a lot more plants. Even most of the little sea thrifts that the Basket Case Greenhouse donated last fall have been taken.
gesturing in outrage with The Toy at more holes.
Don’t even ask why there are so very few narcissi out in these planters; they have been dug and stolen batch by batch over the past few years along Bolstad. I don’t bother to plant them anymore; it would be a waste of time and money.
Another planter, this one with our name on it from volunteer days, had its big old green santolina missing.
We stopped at city hall because I had an urgent need to kvetch and whinge to the city staff while Allan watered the entry ramp garden that gets no rain (being under wide eaves).
One brilliant staffer had the idea that the planters could just have landscape fabric and river rock put down (by the city crew, as if they have time for that….) around the few existing plants. I said that would be a good solution. What plants remain would look scree-garden-y and not so annoyingly off balance. (A layer of small pea gravel would have to go down first and then the larger river rock, so that the underwear did not show). I just cannot imagine how the city crew could find the time. And I feel too arthritic to haul bucket after bucket of rock at a work pace. We are 64 and 66 years old, fer-cryin’-out-loud!!
[update: That idea was rejected because people might throw the rocks. Wildflowers were suggested, but they get stolen, too, and they won’t thrive in summer unless someone has time to water them with the Long Beach water truck.)
Regarding another common couple of suggestions: There is nowhere to put cameras, no one to monitor the footage, and thorny plants like barberries have been stolen as readily as plants without thorns.
I told the nice office staffers that once upon a time, I imagined keeping the Long Beach job till I was doddering along with a walker. Now, I just think “two more years” (what counts as full retirement age for social security), because the thievery has sapped some of the joy out of the job. The beach approach planters used to be beautiful, before whatever happened that brought on so much thieving.
From the glory days:
one of the beach planters in 2015
Allan weeding one of the western Bolstadt planters in 2015
3 Aug, beach approach; these planters have to be relatively drought tolerant and very salt wind tolerant.
It makes me sad to compare photos of how good they once looked to how they look today.
A reader of my instagram had a suggestion that had already crossed my mind, that each hole could have a sign that said “This empty space courtesy of a plant thief.” That wouldn’t look appealing to the tourists.
Now….I will keep my focus on the downtown planters and parks. I am done with even trying to replant on Bolstad. I have to stop my blood from boiling about this or I won’t make another two years of living, much less working.
We went home early because the wind was unbearable at 35 mph.
A block and a bit away from home, we applied some water from big green jugs (formerly kitty litter containers) to our newly planted bed at the fire station, under a wide eave so not getting much rain.
not much going on yet (Allan’s photo)
Frosty was thrilled to have me home early.
I calmed down by making about fifty santolina cuttings (feeling just like Carol Klein!), potting up some plant sale starts, and writing four blog posts.
Berms and santolinas got erased from the work board. Sweet peas and poppies have appeared as the next round of tasks. The beach approach weeding will have to wait.
Next day I realized I must add Boreas Inn to both sweet peas and poppy lists. Susie hasn’t had sweet peas since we passed the job to someone else two years ago. One of the reasons I took it back. I hope I can have sweet pea success like I used to there.
Before going back indoors to write these four ponding posts (on my iPad because I am too lazy to boot up the computer), I took some photos of our project. Other than adding some more river rock around the edges, I must wait for a thaw till the next stage, planting.
I’d had a brainstorm before rising this morning: plastic window boxes would work well for plants on the pond shelves.
Our friend Mark, a pond owner, reminded me later that algae will hide either color!
I worked on placing rocks and broken pottery “waves”. Just using the rocks we have makes for a rather jumbled effect which I hope to improve on later.
I was pleased to find that my special Dan Hinkley plant that I bought at last summer’s Hardy Plant Weekend, now in a pot too heavy to move, seems ok with the cold. I had asked him what plant I should buy that would make other gardeners envy me and he said this one. (I should look up the name. The pond is distracting me.)
It was perfect.
I remember clearly my moment of realizing I was going to die someday. I knew it, of course, but late one night, as a teenager staying overnight at my grandma’s house, the realization struck me that someday I will just not be here at all. I’d never given it much thought before that moment. I can still remember the way the dark polished wooden headboard gleamed in the lamplight as I noticed my blurred reflection.
