The Amateur Bot-ann-ist Marries John in Her Garden

My wedding bouquet made for great photo opportunities.

Four weeks ago today I married an amazing man in the back garden. And now—as I sit here writing this—it's great to publicly admit that we met online and immediately knew we would marry. 

Just 6 months after we met, we were married. There, I said it.

This happened because maturity and experience are great things. Middle-aged love is nothing to scoff at either—especially when it brings such joy and happiness. 

And in my case, I can't say enough about the lessons learned from my divorce. I know now that it took a divorce in order for me to truly understand how much marriage and commitment mean to me. Marriage means working together and being a team and I have that now for the first time. It's what I've always wanted and hoped for and it's such a great feeling knowing now that someone truly has my back and I can count on him to be there. I'm pretty sure he feels the same way too.

Maurice helping to roll out the garden carpet. 

Getting ready for our noontime wedding was a lot of fun. Up until the last minute we'd planned to get married that day in a government office but then I realized we could just do it at home. Why not?

Planted topiary ball with Bromeliad and Ficus. Made to come indoors over the winter. Will keep you updated on how it holds up indoors as a houseplant planting. 

Of course I tried to clean up the back garden as much as possible. I added a few pretty things to make it look better too, but overall, we didn't really intend for it to be a big affair so not much was added. I did make this topiary though.

Two of the fur balls thinking all of the hub-bub was about them—since it usually is all about them.

The night before the ceremony I packed for Alaska and straightened the house.

Since John didn't move in with me until after our honeymoon, that night, we both had a lot of time to think about our new life together and what it would be like in the future.

My mind was so busy thinking about packing I knew I just had to be me no matter what.

Oh why did I wait until the last minute? 

That's when I rushed out and bought some flowers to arrange at 9pm. That's just the kind of thing that I do.

Having fun with my own selfie. 

The morning of the wedding I had my hair and makeup done. It felt amazing and I'm so happy I did so.

When you plan a noontime wedding, that doesn't mean you have a ton of time to get ready. I know that now. But of course, I pulled it all together.

John and I are oddballs. If you don't know that about me yet, then you must be new to my blog or else you haven't been paying attention. 

John and I only invited a handful of important people. We hadn't really thought a lot about wedding photography so many of these pictures were just shot by iPhone by my nieces.

Look! My head is exploding with flowers! 

My flowers were designed by a dear friend who has an amazing touch. (Quinn in the City Flowers).

I had asked Quinn to go "over the top" and I'm pretty sure she nailed it.

Yes, I really do laugh loudly. Am I channeling Phyllis Diller? Maybe...

On my wedding day, I was very happy and we had a little secret too. 

The look on my face terrifies me. I look a lot like my paternal great-grandmother who I take after in so many ways. I guess it makes sense.  

My eldest niece, seen here on the left, was the minister of our ceremony. We kept that a secret from my family until after the ceremony. It was such a great idea and it made the event so much more meaningful.

That's not to say that her younger sister (on the right) wasn't involved too. She made sure we had lots of photos and provided plenty of laughs. 

I love my girls. 

Probably one of my favorite pictures from our special day. I know. I'm weird. I already told you I was though...

Afterwards, our little group met both of our mothers for a special dessert at one of my favorite restaurants in Portland.

Yes, we didn't invite our moms to our wedding. They've been through it all before so we did things differently and they didn't mind at all.

Trust me, it worked very well and they both loved seeing us all dressed up while we ate Boccone Dolce.

John looking at me thinking, "We pulled it off, our moms are both stuffed, now let's get the heck out of here and head to Alaska!!"

And with that, we were off to Alaska!

The Fruits of my Garden: Figs, Apples, Pomegranates, Asparagus and Berries

The second fig crop is still ripening on my Ficus  'Petite Negra'.

Days are shortening and nighttime temperatures are cooling down. Yesterday was our first dreary and wet reminder that our days are numbered. It misted and rained. Clouds hung in the air all day—as did the smell of PNW dampness. The city of Portland felt autumn as the season sauntered just a little bit nearer. 

Columnar Northpole apple (Malus) produced more fruit than ever! It tasted sweet, tart and crisp. 

This was not much of a harvest year for me in terms of edible crops. I like to grow ornamental plants for their seeds so that I can harvest them for my online garden shop. I do harvest something, but it's not what most people think of when they think of harvests. I'm a seed farmer, but I grow a few things to eat too.

Dwarf pomegranate, Punica granatum 'Nana'.

My dwarf pomegranate was grown from seed and I collect seeds from it each year. Since the shrubs are young, each year they produce more and more fruit. This year is by far their best so far and I expect to have more ripe fruit than ever.

Flower on the dwarf pomegranate, Punica granatum 'Nana'.

Ripening fruit on the dwarf pomegranate, Punica granatum 'Nana'.

There has also been a growing herb collection around the house. I've been cooking more recently and it's something John and I very much enjoy doing together. This winter I intend to plan the garden better for these activities since we find ourselves buying so many herbs all of the time. Limiting salt in my diet due to my swelling disease has really made me appreciate the taste of herbs so much more. We barely use any salt now. If you cook your food right, paying close attention to flavors, it's amazing how far herbs can go to replace sodium.

The overgrown asparagus bed. These were grown from seed.

When I originally planted edibles in the garden I wanted to plant things that were either difficult to find or else ornamental and unusual. The asparagus was neither. It reminded me of the fresh asparagus grown by Italian-American farmers in the PNW. Even though I can still buy it at the store, I really enjoy my own plants more. What's nice is that even though they've been neglected, they're still very productive.

Evergreen huckleberry, Vaccinium ovatum.

My native evergreen huckleberries are also wonders to behold this time of year. Usually they are packed full of fruit but I guess mine aren't going to be this time around. Since last year I had an amazing crop I don't mind at all. These are amazing ornamentals for shady corners so it's simply a bonus if they produce for me too.

The image of edible gardening shame—an unused and overgrown raised bed. 

This year I was hoping to use the raised bed for a large basil planting. I never quite made it but next year I'll make it happen. Now that there's a pesto- and polenta-loving Northern Italian in the family I can get past my Southern Italian culinary preferences. I always loved basil (and polenta) too. Next year will be the summer of basilico around here. (I can already smell it on the horizon.)

The first 2013 crop of figs. 

I recently took an online poll of my fig-loving friends for recipe ideas. Since I was raised to just eat them fresh I thought it was time to do something different. (Besides, I can only eat so many with goat cheese and pistachios before I begin feeling a bit piglet-ish so I wanted to find something healthier.) A Parisian friend recommended Honey Roasted Figs and Rosemary (Figues rôties au miel au romarin) and I am so glad that he did. The figs tasted fantastic!

Honey Roasted Figs with Rosemary

• about 1 dozen fresh figs

• 1/3 cup honey (fresh and local if possible)

• 1 large sprig of rosemary broken into 4 pieces

• freshly cracked pepper

Heat oven to 375F. Wash and dry figs. Cut in half. Arrange open side up in a baking dish. Drizzle figs with honey. Arrange the pieces of rosemary between the figs. (If you want the rosemary taste to be stronger, I suggest adding more.) Crack pepper over the figs. Place in oven and bake for about 15 minutes or until the honey begins to caramelize. Let cool. Can be served with a nice mild—yet tangy—goat cheese. 

C'est magnifigue!

(The Grow Write Guild is a creative writing club for people who garden. It's a series of bi-weekly writing prompts created by garden author and blogger Gayla Trail. I'm starting out late with the series but hope to catch up soon. It's just what this blogger needed for some summer fun.)

My Garden (An Exercise in Garden Writing)

Back of the house as seen from the back corner of my garden. The willow arbor is floating there to the left. 

After having seen many residential gardens over the last few years I think it's safe to say that mine is rather small, a regular city lot, with areas more or less here and there in strips along the north, south, and west sides of the home. The backyard is probably more of what would be traditionally called a garden, but even it is quite small when compared to larger gardens seen in this city. It is square, roughly 30' x 30', and in its heart is my 10' x 10' living willow arbor. For me, this is the shaggy, ragged and often messy heart of my garden. It's my outdoor living room. It's cozy and a bit wild—probably a bit like me.

This area looks sort of finished but if I'd pulled the camera out a bit the illusion of order would disappear. (That's Cryptomeria japonica 'Spiraliter Falcata' there on the right and an Impatiens tinctoria on the far left. Still cannot find the tag for the really hardy evergreen fern there but I'm working on it. The grassy bunch is a lovely Carex.) 

Then there is the rest. The bits and pieces. I see swipes and swatches as I wander around watering in the heat. I see finished areas followed by piles of trash that I've not yet picked up from old ideas for projects. There are the overgrown run-on sentences of the garden—mostly vines. My garden is one that's a work-in-progress, it's an artist's studio. This place really is my mad plant scientist's laboratory. 

Antirrhinum majus 'Oriental Lanterns (TM)' grown from seed I bought from Park Seed. The color is amazing and the plant is a great plant.

My house faces west. The front yard is not really coherent. There is the tiny hell strip, cut up into three uneven pieces. There is a central area, with a privacy planting, meant to keep the eyes of those on the sidewalk away from my large front window. The parking area is there too but it's currently filled with racks and pots and is more of a staging area this summer. An edible garden once ran along the southern side of the house. It is overgrown now and a mass of tangled plants. It was created initially to be the domain of my ex, but I've not yet fully reclaimed it. I hope to soon. 

Life in the hammock on a summer evening as I dream of better times ahead.

I see the memories of each and every plant and space. I see the ghosts of plants who've come before and which are gone now. I want to garden to build a future now more than to remember the past. This will be challenging for me, but I want to do so. So much about gardening requires time and patience. I've finally learned too that gardening can be exhilarating when you rip everything out and begin again. Just like a diseased plant, it's best to rip it out. Some plants struggle in the wrong conditions, I have been one of those plants. 

The real garden here at home. The back boundary has been an eyesore for years. Here is Mona the Cat watching the apartment dwellers. Someday soon I'l have the fence I've been hoping for and planning for years.

The front garden runs along the fence and turns along with the walking path into what is my north garden. It is the access walkway and no one ever wants to go that way even when I encourage them to do so. Someday I'll actually consult someone about how to make that entryway more enticing, but for now, I'll just continue to gently encourage folks verbally. 

My engagement bike along the North Side of the house. (Yes, I'm engaged to be married.) The bike "La Dama" is now my mobile seed-collecting unit. I can bike to homes nearby and collect seeds from gardens locally to be sold in my online store. So far, the whole process has worked wonders for my health. 

I like the small northern strip. I don't like having to look directly at my neighbor's house, but he's a nice man. He just isn't as into privacy as I am. He has landscaped with English laurels (Prunus laurocerasus), Japanese privet (Ligustrum japonicum), and cedar (Cedrus)—all having grown randomly on his property from seeds dropped by birds or else they were blown in on the wind. He then plucked them and rearranged them into rows. Amazing in its own way I suppose as a lesson in patience and he has loads of that virtue. He's a great neighbor and I like to harvest from his ever-growing army of Western Sword ferns (Polystichum munitum). (My first client has also been grateful for this too.) 

Sedum morganianum in my office. I'm taking care of my indoor babies before it gets too dark and cold outside to do so in the fall. I hate transplanting houseplants when the days get shorter. It's best to care for them now. Their roots will appreciate it and they'll be far less likely to fall prey to pests and disease.

Forgive me for not writing about my plants though. Major life transitions recently have made that painful. I'm healing. I've learned a lot. So many memories were tied up in every corner of green in my space. During the past few years I've really come to understand how unusual I am in that sense. My plantings have held such sentiments. But I know that I am not the only one. There are those who garden to decorate. Some re-create a time, or a place, or a feeling. Many just want symmetry and low-maintance. Some want that impression—a replication seen in a magazine. I planted to forget. I planted to create another kind of reality. I remember far too much and I've come to realize recently that I've never forgotten nearly as much in my garden as I've remembered. 

The garden of my mother. 

My home is the home of a woman who up until recently didn't really understand she had a moderately serious case of OCD. When I was highly stressed during the past decade—for the first time in my life—the negative effects of this affliction really showed themselves. Now I'm using my "old friend" to help me to organize, clean and make sense of the chaos I'd created during so many years of unhappiness and loneliness. I've taken my life back and I no longer see OCD really at all. I had no idea that such severe and extreme stress could do this to someone. In hindsight, I have been that woman. 

I'm very detail oriented. This can be a wonderful thing—especially for making pastries. 

Don't get me wrong. I'm happy I have a light form of OCD but I want to use it for good. The kind I have appears to have helped me in the past with my academic achievements. I have an amazing memory and when I want to organize and categorize things, it's like breathing for me and I find it extremely relaxing. It puts me in my happy place. When I'm stressed though, things fall apart. I've lived with a lot of stress for many years now and my garden shows that still. It's the last frontier of my former life but I'm making sense of it now. I'm re-writing my garden as I'm re-writing my life. 

First harvest of the season from the Ficus carica 'Petite Negra'.

For these reasons I do not see what others see. As I walk the circle around my home I see what never was, I hear the echos of arguments, there were the joyous moments after my divorce, conversations with friends and foster kids, and I see myself wandering, wondering what to do with myself. I see myself crying in pain during times of horrible illness and swelling. In my head the refrain, "I need help," repeats over and over. It is far more difficult to ask for help than it is to prune a Japanese maple. When I walk in my garden, I see and feel the pleasure pruning the Japanese maples has given me during the worst of times. When I felt my worst emotionally, I always sought my pruners. 

The front of the house July 2013. 

You'd think that this would make for an organized garden but mine is not. There are yet many unfinished projects. I'm slowly trashing them now and am making room for a new period in my life. I'm keeping the plants that grow well and which bring me happiness. If the memories are too painful, reminding me of when I fell and broke my fingers, or when I fell and hit my head, I'm trying not to let the plants die. Instead, I am either giving things away or moving them. The memories are dying instead and things are no longer falling apart. 

Maurice the Cat in his happy zone.

I should add more pictures but I'm still ashamed to do so. With a party coming up to welcome my fiancé into his new home I'm making strides. These things take time, energy, and money and I don't have a lot of any of these right now.

I'm one of the many chronically ill divorced people who've filed for personal bankruptcy. I'm not a perfectly comfortable member of the middle class and I'm not ashamed to say so. That's what I feel and see when I see my garden but I've been learning to see so much more.  

I feel that I'm lucky and gifted to be here—to be able to continue living here. I'm loved now too—a lot!—and I'm learning to be part of a team. We plan to buy the house and stay here. These things take time, but sometimes things work out for the best. I'm learning that too and being positive makes a huge difference. I adore all of the positive green people in my life and want to thank them from the bottom of my heart. We gardeners are ever the optimists and you've all helped me feel alive during a time when I really needed the lifeline. Thank you.

Gardens are for people and this garden is a big part of me. I really look forward to sharing it more with others in the future—and I guess that means you'll get a bit more of me too.

(The Grow Write Guild is a creative writing club for people who garden. It's a series of bi-weekly writing prompts created by garden author and blogger Gayla Trail. I'm starting out late with the series but hope to catch up soon. It's just what this blogger needed for some summer fun.)

A Gardener Spends an Hour or Two at Powell's Books

Last Friday the sun was out in the City of Roses and I was running around getting ready for my nieces's 21st birthday party. 

Why not stop for a bit at Powell's? Right?

I have been visiting the nationally-known and locally-loved store since I was a girl and to say that it's part of my routine and my life is an understatement. Long before the Internet existed I was using this book lovers' destination as a much needed resource—along with the local library system of course!

Walking the two blocks from where I'd parked my car I enjoyed the familiar sights. 

There were the usual humorous things to see too—even if I was the only one laughing. 

No folks, this is no longer a trash can once it's painted and planted!

As for the Italian cypress, it reminded me a bit of the old drunk men I used to see in this area as a girl. They too leaned up against the walls of building just like this poor thing. 

Portland looked much different during the 1970s. I suppose to outsiders, we still look different, but in a much more friendly way. 

 For instance, we have our urban windmills atop buildings. Everyone does that right?

Since I hadn't been to the downtown location for several months I'd not yet noticed that the gardening section had been expanded a bit.

There was a great display of new books and I was happy to see they've included a cheap section again with older titles that don't cost as much as the newbies.

Yes, it's harder now to find great deals on books here but that's happening everywhere.

My favorite section was still very much intact.

Beside it is my other favorite section in the store. As someone with a background in critical theory and philosophy relating to art history and visual analysis this section has been nice to transition into over the years. At least with gardens you can actually talk about something.

Upstairs in the arts area I was excited to see vintage typewriters on display with houseplants. This is a nice Ficus elastica.

Some of the other houseplants didn't look as nice but this is a bookstore after all. I felt like turning this Sansevieria but then I decided that I might look like one of those obsessive characters in that popular tv show you've probably heard about that's filmed here.

Before I left I was looking at hiking books because I plan to go on more plant and nature adventures this year. It was strange to me that an older edition of one of the used books seemed familiar. I looked on the back and suddenly remembered that my dad had resold the remainders he'd purchased from the original publisher when they'd gone out of business. I may have actually put this sticker on the back of this book because I used to do things like that when I was younger.  As the daughter of a publisher, I was lucky to grow up surrounded by books. I always could earn some extra money too.

When I was a young girl my Saturday mornings downtown at Powell's with my dad were often the highlight of my week. We'd often spend several hours there together reading quietly and watching people.

It was really nice to remember those memories just before leaving and I also found some great books for my niece.