My Garden To Do List: 2014

Happy 2014!

I hope you, your family, your pets and your plants are all thriving, alive, and well.

As for me, I'm recovering from a busy holiday season and am relaxing in bed with my two loyal felines. I can see a few trees from my back garden out the bedroom window and the weather is cool and crisp in Portland. There is sunshine mixed with some hazy fog and it's beautiful out right now.

What a great time to be thinking about gardening.

It's still seed shopping season so I'm continuing to dream today about the months ahead. I'm making plans for the garden.

The list so far isn't a long list, but that's because it's 2014 now and I'm planning on working and traveling a lot more this year. The list must be manageable.

There will be plenty to post about and to follow again. I'm dedicated to being a garden blogger and communicator. My only hope is to expand my writing a bit more beyond the blog.

So, here's what's on the menu for 2014.

1: Edit. Edit. Edit. Then edit some more.
There cannot be enough said about editing. I don't plan to make this place picture perfect—and definitely not matchy-matchy—but it will be edited. I'm eternally nothing more than a wild Bohemian at heart and my garden needs to better reflect that back to the world. Gardens are, after all, somewhat a reflection of what's going on inside of us in a deeply aesthetic and often personally spiritual realm. That is when they're personal gardens, and not simply designed to function as low-maintenance or move-in ready. Mine is not yet as intimate as it will be, but I'll get there.

I also want to better define a Bohemian Garden, or maybe you might already call it an Artist's Garden. A whole thesis could be written on this and maybe that's what I'll be starting this year. Who know!?!

Gardens need more categories and words. I'm beginning to realize how limiting many of the definitions can be so it will be fun to use my art criticism and aesthetic theory for some good. I honestly cannot wait.

2: Finalize a design for a fence along the back of the the garden. 
This is of the utmost importance. Anyone who knows me knows that this has been a thorn in my side for many years—pretty much ever since I moved into this house. The design challenge is upon us and I am so excited about it finally happening. Sure, I would love an 8-foot stone wall, but since that's not going to happen, what other options are there?

3: Plant lots and lots of seeds again this winter and spring. 
Seeds have stories and a provenance. A Bohemian Garden is a Collector's Garden, but instead of having scientifically collected data and facts, there are stories too.

4: Expand the herb garden and redevelop the kitchen garden. (We're looking to rent community garden space again too. We have a lot of heirloom and Italian veggies we're looking forward to growing.) 
Well, a girl has to eat right?

In all seriousness, for me, eating foods I've grown matters because I'm an Oregonian and an Italian-American. It is traditional for my family to eat what it grows, or else to purchase fresh produce. It's respectable and honorable. This is my heritage and a part of who I am and where I come from. Self-sufficiency was important to my pioneering relatives. It is important to me too. I am looking forward to writing more kitchen garden and cooking posts here too now. I've got some skillz in that realm that I've seriously underemployed for many years.

Then there is the extra added value of being able to have produce you can't buy at any grocery store or farmers' market. That feels good. It's like going on a major expedition to bring back something very special to share with others. I am getting hungry just thinking about the cooking plans I already have for the garden harvest of 2014.

5: Creatively redesigning some space for outdoor dining. 
Sharing a meal with a spouse, family, and/or friends is what good living is all about—especially when you grew some of it yourself. (Or caught. More on fishing some other time...)

I sound kind of Italian, but I am kind of Italian. Food is very important to me, and so is the community of sharing built around food. It is what makes a good life a great life.

6: Add a lovely European-style flower box to the front of the house and dress the place up a bit. 
The uncertainty of my time spent in this house is coming to an end. It's going to become my home in 2014, and I'm looking forward to making it a place that brings comfort and calm, peace and pleasure to my family, friends, and most of all, to me.

2014: The Year of the Bohemian Garden.
Hope you're looking forward to this as much as I am.
Happy 2014!

An Autumn Field Report

My life feels like it's on fire right now—but my house looks like it thanks to the annual display put on by the Virginia Creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia). 

While my life takes off, I'm too busy to even sit and consider what'll happen to me now if I swell up. It took me a long time, and it took a lot of searching and self-acceptance, but finally, I seem to have a professional life and a work schedule I not only can manage, but I've set myself up to succeed and it feels so much better. 

The garden is no longer neglected. In my mind, it's on hold. It's slowly starting up again (really coming to life for the first time) and I'm introducing John to it little by little.

His first unique seed experience was this 'Cruel' vine seed head (Araujia sericifera). It's the only one produced by this non-hardy vine that has survived a few too many winters here in Oregon. I grew if from seed. To see it set seed after several years is very exciting to me.

The vine is in front of the house and isn't really that special. It chokes out all that gets in its way and I was getting tired of its unneighborly behavior. Then it bloomed rows of small, pretty white fragrant flowers and my dislike (aka hatred) for the plant relented.

I am a proud mama now. I can't kill my baby. I've got to collect its seeds!

The small autumn-blooming Camellia 'Silver Dollar' is currently bursting with blooms. I appreciate and admire its restraint and grace. So many of the other garden plants are dressed up like painted ladies this time of year. I love the little touch of class this plant offers my eyes.

The Amsonia I grew from seed a few years ago is looking beautiful next to this Plumbago (Ceratostigma plumbaginoides)—speaking of painted ladies!

Life in the house and garden is changing though. Our family has changed and I'm working more and more outside of the house now.

Maurice the Cat is ever the trooper and despite his age, arthritic pain, and weight problem, he's soldiering on and has enjoyed every last bit of sunshine he can grasp in his polydactyl paws.

Cats do not like change and only now are they trusting that their lives are not being tossed hither and thither.

The leaves are changing and falling. The air is crisp and tonight we may have some frosty temps in the Portland metro area.

It's a beautiful time of the year and I'm preparing again to participate in NaNoWriMo.

I'm writing a novel again in November—but unlike last year—this story is fully cooked and ready to go. I am also preparing to write many other things. Actually, I'm already doing so. It's time. I am well enough now.

There is still some physical recovery to do. A decade of illness is not easy to repair. I need to lose more weight. My blood pressure and heart need a break. I've lost a lot of weight and have continued to regain and build muscle but my body needs to be leaner and meaner. I am caring for me now and it feels good too.

I will do all of these things that I've set out to do now. That's what I do. That's what I've always done. It's good to be me again.

I'm working as a caregiver now, and I work all kinds of odd shifts with the elderly and those in hospice.

Illness has prepared me for this and I'm comfortable and confident with what I'm doing.

It's not a forever job, but for now, I'm enjoying the pleasure of working hard and the opportunity of getting to know new and interesting people.

They've lived different lives than mine and we honor and respect one another as we work through basic daily tasks that have become increasingly more difficult for the clients. The adjustment has not been easy for me, but it's improving. I know what I'm doing and I know that I can help them.

It feels good.

There's also a new dog in the family. My mother-in-law picked up this little cutie recently and although I'm not a dog person, I like her a lot. She has made my mother-in-law very happy and I've enjoyed seeing that, but the whole adoption process led to John and I craving a kitten.

Between the two of us we have 5 cats. We do not need a kitten. (His two cats live with his mom and her new pup.) We just want one. Ugh.

This autumn we've talked a lot about eventually buying a place in the country near the ocean. I've thought about the garden it would have and what palate of plants I would pick. This is another project I'm working on right now.

I've never really designed a  project like this, but oddly, I'm ready and willing to accept the challenge.

This has led to me thinking a lot about my own design aesthetic. I never knew I had one but it runs through almost everything I do. It ties into the novel writing, so I'm a happily contained little mind now. Inside I am germinating.

There have been many meals and many recipes recently. John has been cooking new things, learning new techniques in the kitchen, and he's been shopping at farmer's markets. As for me, I'm in love with my Cauliflower (Brassica) 'Minaret'. Yes, I've been cooking too, but I've been enjoying all of John's food more. I'm proud of him. He's a great cook.

For me, food has become another job. This is a good thing—literally, a job! I'm still kind of in shock this even happened, but it did.

So, it's exciting to announce this publicly. Here goes: I've been hired to work as a ghost blogger for a food blogger. That is all I can say, since I am obviously a ghost blogger, but to say that the experience is thrilling is an understatement. I want to be a paid writer. I crave it. I need it. I would like to continue working as an editor too. With this opportunity, I will be able to do both of these things.

And from here it will only get better...

Lastly, I've returned to arranging flowers and that's been good for me during the times when I still feel chronic pain from either swelling or injuries I sustained years ago. I'm arranging plant material weekly in an effort to relieve stress and to be creative. It gets my juices flowing and it gives me a problem to solve. I relish that kind of thing.

The whole process brings a kind of value to my life that's irreplaceable.

It's still cleanup time in the garden—my garden: I'm still blogging, there are seeds to sow, I see a future garden to begin designing, and there are many words in the air. My mind has been swept and it is still a bit shady in there, but I see leaks of light and the words are in lines now that float and I can grasp their syntax.

Someday I will describe the mind of chronic pain to show how dull and slow it can become and how one can lose so many words. The feelings and thoughts were all inside of me but I couldn't get them out. I struggled. I was inarticulate for so many years.

It is difficult when the words come to me quickly now. I still feel as though I'm sitting behind the wheel of a fast car as the words pour out. I know that I am not yet as suave as I once was though, I'm rough, I repeat a lot. I could use better words—and I will.

But I will use them for my novel and it will have a garden and it will have plants and there will be so many other wonderful things. My many layers are peeling away now and as winter comes low over the horizon from the cold north I will let the chilling winds lay bare that which I want so badly to articulate but have yet been unable to do so. 

Wordless Wednesday: Working In and Around the Willow Arbor

Begonia grandis and Tradescantia pallida 'Purpurea'. 

Neglected Festuca californica with a columnar apple tree and black cat. 

Tagetes erecta 'French Vanilla'. 

Cyclamen hederifolium. 

More apples from the tree. 

Sketching Ahead, Studying the Lines

Italian ceramic piece that finally found her home in the garden. 

My little cabbage child now greets me as I walk to my front door. She is cheerful and light—and maybe a tad bit creepy to some of you. To my mind she is just what I need now as I continue to garden while my life sorts itself out and calms to the pace I find comfortable.

If I have to wear a mask, this is the mask I will wear because I think we all feel a bit naive and innocent sometimes—even as adults. Reentering the world after what I've been through still often has me feeling quite fresh and new. I don't ever want to be as crusty and hard as those I've seen who've worn too proudly the calluses life has inflicted. I want my sight to remain open.

Jack-in-the-pulpit, (Arisaema triphyllum).

It is with those eyes that I annually witness returning blooms anew.

I removed the planted ring of succulents from the bird bath but not I must center it so that the water doesn't all flow to the back. 

For the first time I'm looking at the garden in light of design and am making changes. I never wanted to design the place, but here I am doing a better job of it. Designing means making choices (a lot of them) and when you're very stressed, I've learned that for some of us, we simply stop being able to make many choices easily. For someone like me, that makes getting by while still feeling like yourself very difficult.

Mona sunbathes while I wait and wait for the Dracunculus vulgaris to bloom. 

It is funny to wait so impatiently for a flower to unfurl that smells so much like rotting meat, but it is truly quite a show stopper. Each year I like to remind my neighbor that if he smells something rather putrid out back its just my plants blooming.

Jasminum parkeri. 

This tiny Jasmine from Cistus Nursery was a really fragrant edition to my Mother's Day flower arrangement on the table this year. It has not been in my garden for long but I've already found that its compactness of form is quite nice in my small city garden.

Ledum groenlandicum.

My native plants never let me down during the springtime, although the heat we recently had blasted the blooms on a few of the plants. Luckily this Ledum really kept its head together. It had more blooms than last year and I think it really looked quite beautiful this past month.

Dark Columbine, Aquilegia atrata.

I sold seeds for this plant in my Etsy shop and then I ran out. Last year the plant didn't really do much or produce any seed, but this season, these will be back in stock. I like that when that happens.

Hybrid roses from the garden of Gina—my boyfriend's mother. 

On Mother's Day it made me very happy to receive roses from a seasoned gardener. I spent a week watching their tight buds open and the house was filled with their fragrance. They were truly a real treat for me since I'm unable now to care for my roses.

It reminded me of my old rental home in the old Italian neighborhood in SE Portland where I'd planted nearly a dozen hybrid roses and I pruned and pruned them as my health worsened. I learned a lot that year in the garden and it led me to where I am now.

Pasta with Peas and Bacon.

Lastly I'm going to close with more food. If you have any delicious fresh peas, I highly recommend making this pasta. (Sorry for not adding the recipe. I will do that more in the future. In the meantime, just do a search on this and you'll find lots of recipes. The one with lemon is good too.)

So, now it's back to the drawing board. This girl needs to continue to reinvent herself and a new form of employment is in order. Wish me luck! 

Terra firma in springtime...

A Phalaenopsis orchid given to me as a gift last Christmas (2011) has finally re-bloomed. 

Like the above orchid, I'm currently in the process of re-blooming too. It seriously took my being able to accept that I had to simply shut my own eyes, let go (trusting that I would be caught by something), and finally I allowed myself to fall backwards—yes, I guess back into my own life. 

So what if I went to that moment kicking and screaming? I made it. 

If I told you what happened next, well this wouldn't be a garden blog any longer. 

A lovely organic leek I sliced for fresh potato and leek soup on St. Patrick's Day, 2013. 

Cooking has again become popular around here and I'm happily creating and trying new things. I'm learning to make the basics, while appreciating the bountiful produce that's appearing as the season changes.

Being gluten-free is easy most of the time, but then you find recipes such as the one for the cake seen below, and you just have to make a cake to share with your friends.

Though not a garden, or even a plant, I had to share my leprechaun trap cake with everyone. Although no leprechauns were hurt, we did attract some pixies. (See below.)

I wish this had been a gluten-free cake, but it wasn't. I think that it turned out well except for my poor handling of the frosting. Someday soon I will master buttercream and this cake will look more like it's covered in grass. (That's why it's here. I knew there was a reason! Grass!)

The pixies are French so they could have cared less about the rainbow and pot of gold. Note that one has a ladybug on its thigh and the other has what looks to be a snail. No, oops, I mean escargot. 

 Like other gardeners I am excited for spring and I am feeling very playful and happy again.

The vintage ceramic potatoes make for nice vases on St. Patrick's Day too. 

I really miss ikebana classes a lot but due to the divorce I've had to cut such things from my life for now. In the meantime, I'm doing the best I can and it's not so bad at all.

Vintage hanging ceramic indoor planter with an Aligator fern (Microsorum musifolium).

The fact that I'll be moving sometime during the next few months has finally sunk in and I'm looking at my plants much differently now. Although I have not yet found a place to call home, I'm finally getting excited about it.

Epiphyllum grown from seed. I like to call this move "doing the Icarus". 

Someday soon, I hope to see many of my houseplants bloom—like this Epi cactus!

Well, stay tuned since it's moving with me. I have no idea how many years it will take, but I will wait for it.

Green mums in a small vintage liquour glass inherited from my family. 

These past few weeks I've quietly sat back a bit to think about my life, my garden, my plants, and who I am and who I want to be now. I started this blog when I was obviously a different person, living a different married life. It was full of chronic illness, unhappiness, and for a time, troubled foster children.

When things changed for me over a year ago, I was shown by many of my gardening friends that I belonged here. 

I learned that lesson rather quickly, but I didn't know how to start over. I have no shame in admitting I needed to find my own way. I've learned some incredible things about myself during the last two months. The serendipity I've experienced has given me a kind of hope.

My niece Chelsea glam'd me up for an event.  

Yes, then there are the things you need to do for yourself. My marriage did not make me feel very beautiful at all. Let me tell you now, if you feel that way yourself, get out. It is the most important lesson I've learned. The people you surround yourself with should always help to make you feel like the beautiful person you are and sometimes that's just not what happens. 

My nieces helped me to really understand this recently and I'm proud of them. When you help to raise a child, and then they come over to spend hours making you look pretty—after you've not looked so great for nearly a decade—it does something to you. To say that my niece Chelsea made me look beautiful one Sunday to prove a point to me is an understatement. She's been telling me for years she missed me, and that she wanted the world to see the woman she sees, and I have to say the kid's got a great eye. I just wasn't seeing it. 

She proved her point, and as an aunt, it was the first time I'd sat back to be school'd by one of my nieces and it was so worth it.

Oh weird! Downtown Portland. I remember this place...

Trust me when I say that I'm not giving up gardening. I'm very much going to continue blogging too. I just need a little more time to adjust. There are many changes afoot.

There is direction too—and maybe even a plan (possibly a very detailed plan).

I'm over the shock and pain of having fallen blindly. I survived and I've planted my feel solidly on the ground. It's new where I'm standing but I'm certain it's terra firma. In characteristic Ann fashion I'm standing a bit uncomfortably in the middle of an empty field and I've covered my eyes with one hand while with the other I reach into my pocket for seeds.

I am throwing out the seeds. I am casting them blindly in every direction, and if you look closely, you'll notice I'm coyly smiling. If you listen, across the distance, you'll hear me laughing again. It's not loud, but it's happy at least.

So take that springtime! I'm ready for you this year.

Let's get this party started.

Cloudberries and a Kabocha Squash

Reproduction of a painting by the Swedish botanist C. A. M. Lindman taken from Bilder ur Nordens Flora (first edition published 1901–1905).

Recently a Finnish friend of mine asked me to pickup some Cloudberry Preserves for him from a local import store we have here in the Portland Metro area (Scandia Imports). Since he travels all the time for work, I didn't mind. The shop happens to be just a few blocks away from another of my favorite haunts so I was able to kill two birds with one stone. Learning more about the special orange berry much beloved in Scandinavia was kind of fun too. I like berries. 

USDA PLANTS profile

Have you ever heard of this berry? Well I sure hadn't—other than from my friend. This kind of surprised me since the Pacific Northwest is known for its berries and we grow many different kinds from all over the world here. 

Well, the cloudberry (Rubus chamaemorus) is a special little plant and there are a few good reasons why many of us know very little about them. 

Apparently, first off, the plants are dioecious, which is not common in the species. This means that the female plants need male pollination in order to produce fruit. (That limits the supply and spread a bit!) This, coupled with the arctic and alpine climate conditions where the plants tend to grow, and you've got a berry on your hands that grows best in a harsh climactic zone, producing limited numbers, and the demand for products made from them is fairly high so it's safe to say that the berries don't get around much.

This is why I had to drive across town to pickup a few jars. The store is only able to order the product once every 2 years depending upon availability. Leave it to me to go on a mission for hard-to-find berry preserves. 

I did just fine though. I told you a favorite haunt of mine was nearby. There is nothing like a trip to Uwajimaya. I could get lost in there for days. 

This precious little Kabocha squash had to come home with me too.

A happy Ann after a fine mission accomplished.

(Check back again soon for updates from the Northwest Flower & Garden Show.)

Goat Cheese and Lemon Cheesecake with Pistachio Crust (with recipe!)

This is a late follow up to a post I wrote last December to celebrate the Blogoversary of the blog Amateur Bot-ann-ist. It's still difficult for me to believe that I've been doing this now for 5 years, but I have been, and I still enjoy it very much. 

I might even be enjoying it even more now actually! 

Ok, now that your eyes have feasted, here's the recipe. (Sorry I didn't include the prickly pear coulis portion, but to be honest, that's because I kind of made it up as I went along! Sometimes that's just how it is in the kitchen.)

Enjoy!

Goat Cheese and Lemon Cheesecake with Pistachio Crust

The Crust:
1 cup shelled and unsalted pistachios
1 1/2 teaspoons grated orange zest
1/8 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
5 tablespoons sugar
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled, plus additional for greasing pan

The Filling
16 ounces plain chèvre cheese
1 cup goat milk yogurt (plain or vanilla)
3 eggs
1/4 cup goat milk
3 tablespoons butter, melted
3 tablespoons honey or 5 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Grated rind of one lemon

Makes about 12 servings.

To make the crust place pistachios, orange zest, salt, cinnamon and sugar in a food processor and pulse until nuts are ground. Put in a bowl and stir in the melted butter. Press mixture firmly into a spring-form pan, making sure to push up onto the side of the pan an inch or so. Bake for about 7 minutes at 350 degrees F. Remove and let cool before adding filling.

Combine and beat eggs, chèvre and yogurt until smooth. Add remaining ingredients until well blended. Pour into the cooled crust and bake at 450 degrees F for 10 minutes, then turn down to 350 degrees F and bake for 35-45 more minutes. Let cool.

You can top with berries, or as in this case, drizzle it with a fresh fruit coulis.

(I guess I should have added that this is a gluten-free recipe and that the goat milk extravaganza is for those of us who are sensitive to cow's milk. Discovering recently that I could consume dairy products made of goat's milk has been like entering into a kind of "heaven" on Earth.)

Taming the Beasts

Snow on a big leaf Rhododendron.

The snow beast roared its tiny little head this morning. Now it's gone. 

That was the easiest beast to tame this past week although the cold temps are still sticking around—unlike the snow. 

Just about finished with the seed starting spreadsheet for 2013. I think I'll be starting about 450 different types of seeds. The bowl of basmati rice pudding with almond milk, raisins and orange flower water really helped me get to the end of the project this year. It was a great reward for a difficult job.

My seed sheet is now complete and is accessible by clicking on the link above.

It was a difficult beast to put down because I'm challenged by the fact I still don't know where my garden will be in the future. This beast is not yet purring but I will make it purr.

I know that I'm a woman who sorts seeds. It's what I do. Last year I didn't get to participate in this dull and slow process so doing it this year made me feel more like me.

Some people use Nyquil, others use Icelandic Schnapps.  

The flu is everywhere right now and I hope with all of my heart that I'm able to escape it.

So far, so good. I'd much rather watch others deal with this creature. It's not one I'm well equipped for, but I think with a bottle of this stuff, at least I wouldn't care if I caught it.

I have a friend who chose to use this medicinal treatment involving Icelandic Moss Schnapps (http://www.fjallagrasa.is/en). The moss used is actually the lichen Cetraria islandica but it was hard to tell just by looking at the shriveled and dried up chunk of plant life inside of the bottle.

This is the little fur beast who inspired this post. Sometimes animals shock and surprise us. This is my partially feral garden cat who, after 7 years of hiding in the basement, now demands to sleep with me at night. With the other two geriatric cats currently restricted to the main floor she is able to hop the fence and run upstairs to jump onto the bed each evening.

Having seen her as a feral cat for the past 7 years it's wonderful to see her change. Somehow she's broken through a trust boundary and I'm thrilled to see the change.

I cannot help but believe too that my newfound calmness and focus has helped her feel safer around me. Before, I believe I was far too frantic for her. Life has really changed a lot since the divorce.

She has changed too.

 

19th century vase with thistle, Japan. Portland Art Museum. 

I've been working diligently to feed the creative drawing and designing animal inside of me. It's strange to feel the craving in my belly for this sort of thing, but it's there and it's starving. 

As usual, I'm drawn more and more to Japanese designs. It fascinates me to no end to be so enamored of such simplicity when I'm such a complex and complicated person. As I enter into middle age I'm noticing that I crave simplicity more and more. I want to be at peace so I will feed the beast what it wants.  

Discovering low-sodium dried sardine dashi has made me very happy. Making a hearty miso soup has been a great boon during wintertime. 

Oh, and by the way, I simply cannot stop cooking. I guess I'm literally feeding the beast too!

2013 is going to involve more cooking and I hope to grow more produce. Of course I don't expect to grow it all myself but I want to make a concerted effort with those around me and in my gardening life to learn more about food. As someone with severe sensitivities it's now no longer such a chore and it has simply become more and more a way of being for me. 

I might as well do it very, very well—for my wellness and for me.