Garden Variety in September

With the help of my landscaper friend (and his helper), last week I was able to prepare the back garden for my birthday party and a small open garden event. 

A brief swelling event interrupted my ability to get things completely finished in time, but it was simply a minor setback considering what my life used to be like not that long ago. 

Now I will be able to continue enjoying this space until it's too cold outside to do so and in the meantime I can keep working on other projects that need to be done around the house. 

Finally sitting back to enjoy the garden is a lot of fun for me now after 8 years of working on it. Like many novices or amateurs I made plenty of mistakes, and eventually they'll be corrected I suppose, but I don't see them nearly as often since there truly are so many other things to sit and marvel over. 

One big project right now is to take back the studio/garage space and to empty out its contents once and for all. A dear friend of mine I've known since he was born asked me after the birthday party if he could rent the space for an art studio and I was so excited to say, "Yes! Let's do it!" 

I'd always wanted that space to be used for creativity and I'm thrilled since this friend is such an amazingly talented artist. I cannot wait to be inspired by his work. 

In the meantime, as I work, I'll keep looking at the many layers and textures in the garden and I will start coming up with funny names for all the different shades of green I see. This seems like a fun activity to me. 

And as the days continue to be dry and warm around here, I keep thinking of the salmon stacking up in the coastal rivers and streams waiting to spawn. More will be on their way soon—once we have rain—but until then I will look up at my salmon knowing they will come. 

The Virginia Creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia) on the back of the house changes to a bright red just as the salmon spawn and die. I find this touching just as the cold begins to set in around here. 

The Green Rose, (Rosa chinensis 'Viridiflora').

Neglect sadly hurt several of the best of my plants this year, and I was unable to enjoy as many green roses as I was able to last year, but at least I've been able to share the experience of their scent with others. There is nothing quite like a rose that smells of black pepper. 

Spotted Bellflower, (Campanula punctata). 

Here is my Spotted Bellflower, near death, holding on and giving me the best blooms that it can muster. It's these moments that I'm cherishing now too as I wander around the garden unearthing plants that have fallen by the wayside in the aftermath of separation and divorce. Their struggle to survive is truly making me smile more and more and I'm doing my best now to have a new plant ICU back up and running. 

Yes, and then there are those designer-like touches that were added for the party which make me smile too. I am such a plant-driven gardener and I just have to accept that as my lot in life. 

Persian Ivy, (Hedera colchica 'Sulpher Heart').

Speaking of plants, here is what I believe to be the largest of the large-leaved ivies. I love this vine and I should add that it is NOT an English ivy which is considered invasive here in Oregon. 

Dwarf Morning Glory, (Convolvulus tricolor 'Blue Ensign').

OK, so I posted a photo of this little blue gem a few weeks ago and here's another one. No, the plant itself it not a great performer, but given more sun, I think these little guys would have faired better. Overall, their color is worth giving them a shot and I plan to plant more of them next year. 

Ponytail Palm, (Beaucarnea recurvata).

Then there are the "other"plants. This poor Ponytail Palm was chewed on a few too many times by a certain elderly cat I know. Luckily the one I grew from seed is inside in a protect spot far from any of my feline housemates. 

My little pomegranate fruit was something I took great pride in up until this evening when I noticed it had taken on a little green friend. My hopes for a perfect fruit were dashed, but life will go one. I accept that this kind of thing happens and it naturally a given in any garden. We can't really control what happens out there but we can struggle with the concept both in our gardens and in our own lives. 

Oh well! Better luck next year I guess. This happened and now what do I do? Life goes on...

(Like all gardeners I have faith and hope, and because of this I always believe that next season will be better.)

It's the Unplanned, a Thing Called Life, in the Garden

"One never reaches home, but wherever friendly paths intersect 

the whole world looks like home for a time." Hermann Hesse

A great deal has recently grown in this garden—both intended and otherwise. Many of my new plants, sown this year from seeds sent to me in the mail only last winter, have borne great and rich floral beauties. I never know what to expect, so much so, that when things finally grow and bloom, they are always certain to cause me great surprise and excitement. That's seriously how I garden!

The False Freesia below was a bit of a shock when I returned from Seattle. I had no idea what it was, but after checking my charts, I figured it out. I ordered these seeds from the American Horticultural Society last winter. Another member donated them to their annual seed sale and I am so glad! I'd never seen them before and I hope I can overwinter them outside. They are bulbs grown from seed, and I am thrilled they bloomed during their first season. I am seriously impressed.

False Freesia, Anomatheca laxa.

This Lobelia cardinalis had been sitting in its planter for two years. This past spring I finally planted it in the ground. It too is blessing me with its blooms right now, but this plant story is different than the last one.

My mother loves Fan Scarlet Lobelia and wanted tons of them so a few years ago I figured out what I needed to grow more for her. Since the plant is a F1 hybrid I had to purchase pelleted Fan Scarlet seeds from a reputable grower. After doing so, that year, the seeds all grew perfectly.

The effort was not quite enough though to soothe my mom's curiosity. She still didn't understand after that season why I couldn't just collect the seeds from her new plants to make more of the Fan Scarlets. Instead of reexplaining hand pollination to her, I just told her I'd collect the seeds and then show her what would happen later.

As you've already guessed, this is what happened. A few of the seeds reverted back to the Lobelia cardinalis, while many of them stayed sterile. What was Mom's response? She complained at first because several of the ones I gave her failed to thrive, but late last summer she told me that the handful that did might actually be prettier to her than the Fan Scarlet. Go figure!

Cardinal Flower, Lobelia cardinalis. 

My dependable old-timer has bloomed again and this loyal garden companion is going to have its seeds harvested this year finally. Life without it would be difficult for me and I must have more in the future.

A few years ago I visited the Hollyhock House in Los Angeles where I purchased hollyhock seeds in their Gift Shop. The package said it was a mix, and I grew them all, but most were sold at the Frank Lloyd Wright house museum where I used to work. (The funds were used to purchase additional plants for the Gordon House.) This was the last plant though, and I chose to plant it at our home. I am so happy it turned out so beautiful and that its parents were once hollyhocks at the Hollyhock House.

Heirloom Hollyhock, Alcea rosea. 

After many months, I finally got the garden menagerie together for the foster kids. Last winter we assembled this motley crew up in Seattle at the Northwest Flower and Garden Show. The weather has been so bad though this past spring and summer I only just recently let the gang out. I think they make quite a nice team, don't you?

With much work to come, I am finally cleaning up the garden. Last week, an x-ray showed that last month I broke two bones on my right hand, and although they've both healed, they still are not well. I am trying not to think about all the lost time, but this summer has been rough. It's the unplanned things that really determine what happens sometimes, and in my life, I must always expect the unexpected.

My little old lady cat Macavity has helped me through some rough spots recently. She is 15 years old now and is one of most intelligent cats I've ever known. Not long after I was diagnosed with primary immune issues, she developed health problems too. Just recently, she's begged me to ignore all of her skin rashes, and to forget her hip problems because she just wants to be a cat during these last few weeks of summer. She's now allowed to be outside whenever she wants to and she is very happy. I guess she's earned it by being so nice to all the children, even when she shouldn't be, yet she's always willing to give them a chance.

Last Friday my cats enjoyed sitting beneath me as I crashed in our hammock for the first time this summer. It was great just to rest. So many things have been making me really tired and I just never have the time to sleep. At least in my hammock it looked and felt like summer if only to my eyes. It was enough, just what I needed, and it filled me with great joy for several hours.