Pacific Northwest Flower & Garden Show (An Introduction)

It's been a few years but I'm back! Coming up here to Seattle from Portland has reminded me why I missed coming to the Pacific Northwest Flower & Garden Show so much. I guess it'd been so long I'd nearly forgotten. Sure I missed one heck of a snow storm, but it was worth it. 

Here are a few highlights with more posts to come because I'm still really enjoying the show. I'm going to seminars, and after I hit "publish" I'm off to look at some books. (Later tonight I'll return to the restaurant where I first learned how to eat with chopsticks as a teen—but that's another post.)

The show in Seattle is just edgy enough to have a neon-style light in a log on the ground in the garden. I have no idea yet how much this would cost, but I want it. 

There is glass here. This is Chihuly Territory after all and his work has inspired many to take up the craft and I'm eternally grateful for their work.

There is nothing more reminiscent to me of the PNW style than huge trees and rusty metal. This is a refined nod to the logging industry if ever I saw one and to the great resource which although now managed, is something that still inspires awe in all who experience it. That's why each and every year the ancient woods are brought into the convention center. I've missed these homages.

Whimsy? Not always my thing but I burst out laughing when I saw this bat house. My former foster children would have loved this.

There is always something that appeals to the over-the-top Italian side of me. This garden display cured my wintertime blues and made me crave a glass of limoncello.

As someone who specialized in modernism as an art history student I understand it and its midcentury relative well. It's not my style because I'm too wild and flamboyant to live in it, but I love seeing it and being in it when it's in another's home.

It's calming to see the lines all "just right".

 Seeing the simplest joys and pleasures on display here make me tingle.

Then there is what I would do. Luckily I cannot afford a giant glass pavilion with an art orchid made of glass and metal in it. Was it my favorite display garden? Yes. The huge glass Sarracenia? Well what do you think? This was amazing to behold. It could be in a museum.

I should add that I come here for the hotel too—at least this time around. Let's just say that my husband really likes to spoil himself with a nice hotel so this trip I actually have marble tile on my bathroom floor. Did the show spoil us rotten with a great discount at the Fairmont Olympic? Absolutely. Will I take high tea tomorrow with our extra discount? Definitely.

I think one of these is going home to the family house on the river. It only seems appropriate when you have salmon spawning behind your house.

Not something I'd put in my garden, but I would love to see these in lieu of other options in other gardens. Variety is good. I think they're fun and I would love to slam that arrow on the front of my house so that people would walk around that way but it might be an overstatement. (I'm pretty sure there might be something more "subtle" I could do too.)

Miniature gardens are in the show as well. They aren't for me, but my husband is now eager to make a few. I'm excited to see what he makes and I would love to have one. I just wouldn't know where to begin. John has loved other types of miniatures for years so I know he'll make something wonderful.

This is a stake you can add to a planter pot and I loved it. (Gotta have my bling.) We do live in a rainy region so we might as well celebrate it.

Yesterday I didn't buy much but I came back to the hotel last night after a long day with a few free plants from a reception. I was grateful.

My husband John got to take a silly picture of me. That's his takeaway from the event. (You can tell I'm amused.) I'm afraid this is a word that pops out of my mouth from time to time and he does tease me about it a lot. Again, I love the silliness.

Then there is ikebana too.

I miss making arrangements but I'll be back at it again soon.

(More to come with A LOT more detail. I just wanted to post a few pictures.) 

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.

Silver Falls State Park: Returning to the Wilderness

Yesterday, for the first time in over a decade, I returned to the Oregon woods by going for an 8-mile hike in Silver Falls State Park. It was my first significant long-distance hike in a long time and it went so well that I'm excited to think I'll be able to delve deeper into more remote areas of my region as time goes on and my health and strength continue to improve. I very much want to re-enter the wilderness areas that so captivated and inspired me as a young girl to become the free spirit I am today.

North Falls, part of the Trail of Ten Falls.

When I became seriously ill, the first thing I reached for was plant-life. Gardening was for me my way out of an excruciatingly painful situation that destroyed me. Once I finally had accepted that I'd lost my fight and had to live with what was chronically (daily) occurring inside of my own body I had to let go of many things I held near and dear to my heart. In just a single plant I saw the freedom of the wilderness I was raised to believe in as both an Oregonian and descendant of many pioneers. Gardening then continued to help me as I rebuilt and grew back to who I am today. 

So, yesterday I drove far away from my garden (the place that has been my safety zone for so long), and I went back to feel the source that bound me together during the most difficult period of my life. As my senses took it all in, that sensation of being calm and at home took over. I walked right in the front door and didn't look back until I was finished and it was time to return to Portland.

(Following are some of the 10 waterfalls from the Trail of Ten Falls and some native plants too.)

South Falls.

Lower South Falls.

Vine Maple (Acer circinatum).

Western Maidenhair Fern, (Adiantum aleuticum).

Vine maples in the woods in autumn.

Piggy-back Plant, (Tolmiea menziesii). 

Lower North Falls.

Double Falls. 

Middle North Falls.

(Not one of the named falls. Just a bonus.)

North Falls.

North Falls with native Licorice Ferns (Polypodium glycyrrhiza).

Rattlesnake Plantain—a native orchid of the PNW, (Goodyera oblongifolia).

San Francisco: Wine Deliveries, Lunch, and Flora Grubb Gardens (Again)

 Crimson Passionflower, Passiflora vitifolia, at Flora Grubb Gardens.

On my first full day with my husband in Lake County, CA we had to get up early and head to San Francisco. Another long day in the car wasn't exactly what I wanted, but it was worth it. Mr. B was going to attend a day-long industry-only wine tasting and I'd planned to take in some sights.

From the time he woke up he started feeling unwell so we adjusted our plan a bit. During harvest and crush, he really gets worn down so a rest day was in order and we were both kind of excited about visiting SF together.

Ficus microcarpa 'Nitida'. 

Other than an early dinner date with a new garden writer friend up in Marin, the city was very briefly our oyster that day. Our only serious task was to deliver some cases of wine, and while waiting in the car at one of those stops, I shot this picture of a typical street somewhere in SF.

Sorry for the dirty windshield but note that a weekday drive into San Francisco from Marin can be pretty painless during October just so long as you wait until after all the morning traffic. 

During the drive, I discovered something funny about harvest. Once all the grapes are in their tanks fermenting, the whole valley in Sonoma actually smells of fermenting grapes. (Mr. B said Napa is even worse.) Coming from beer central, I should have realized this was possible but I just had never really thought about it. What an experience for the nose!

Entering the city you get to pay your $6 toll. I never get to take pictures of the tollbooths,  so I was happy this time with Mr B driving. They are designed to match the bridge and I think they're the prettiest tollbooths I've ever had to go through. 

After we paid our toll we had no plans and for me that was unusual—but welcome. Usually when I drive into SF I have some idea of where I am going since otherwise I'd still get lost very easily. In this case, I just sat back and enjoyed the view.

Alcatraz as seen from Hwy 101 just past the tollbooths. 

The first thing I saw, of course, was Alcatraz in the distance. It's now such a large part of my Ikebana project it made me smile. Finding my own metaphorical escape from the imprisonment of chronic illness has become such a game for me and gardening and plants are such an integral part of my strategy. I think for some of us, making the battle less personal is key to our survival. We need that distance to feel more comfort and less fearful. We need that space to heal. In a way, I've tried to leave a lot of my troubles on that island and I think it's been working.

For lunch Mr. B decided to take me to the Ferry Building Marketplace. What a great little shopping area they have there! (I now know what Portland wants to have in its plan to create our James Beard Public Market. Shopping before your ride home is a such a great idea!)

So the first business that truly caught my eye because of its regionally accurate "shop locally" distinction was McEvoy Ranch. Could you have a store dedicated to olive oil and its many products anywhere else? I think not! That's what they do. They're olive ranchers.

To say that I felt envious is an understatement. I want to be an olive rancher too. (When my husband met me he was shocked that I cooked everything in olive oil. That still includes things like fried eggs and pancakes.)

I think I may have been an olive oil life-stylist long before we discussed and marketed things called "lifestyles" to consumers. My dad used to crack up when I was a girl because I'd use our jugs of olive oil to concoct rosemary and olive oil leave-in conditioners for my thick dry hair. (I still use olive oil soap but it's usually the kind made in the Middle East.)

But oh how I now want to be an olive rancher...

Speaking of lifestyles, the gardening lifestyle is not an uncommon one to find in San Francisco either. Kingdom of Herbs was actually kind of nice to visit because it had upscale fun stuff mixed in with other odds and ends that all related to a love of all things plant material.

As someone who's known for picking seeds wherever I go my husband and I giggled quite a bit about how I'd fit a few of these into my pockets. Not likely.

They had a lot of nice hats too.

And then there were plants...

and preserved plants and wood products. (Next year I really hope to preserve my boxwood cuttings. I really love these wreaths but they're a bit pricey.)

After we grabbed some take-out from a deli, we wandered outside to watch the foot ferries while we ate. (This ferry takes commuters back and forth across the bay to Marin County.)

On our way out we stopped by The Gardener. It is a small local chain in the Bay Area and I was a bit less enthused by what it had to offer since it had far less to do with gardening.

I liked their display though of Japanese gardening tools. Reminded me a bit of a little piece of art I could hang on my own wall.

Mexican Flame Vine, Senecio confusus. This is a plant I've tried to grow from seed once or twice with little success. 

Later, after the deliveries we went to Flora Grubb Gardens. I was embarrassed that I'd already been there four times this year, but since it was going to be my husband's first visit, it somehow seemed necessary.

I was not disappointed. He was truly blown away by the displays and by the plants. As usual, I obsessively noted every change I could and thought about plants I may want in the future. (If only I could have that second garden in California.)

Queensland Silver Wattle or Pearl Acacia, Acacia podalyriifolia.

Kangaroo Paw, Anigozanthos 'Bush Dawn'.

Mr B staring at an aquaponics display. Maybe I could convince him to do this if we could grow our own sushi. 

Valley Oak, Quercus lobata. It's endemic to California and is the largest of the North American Oaks. Some mature specimens can be nearly 600 years old, and can reach almost 100 feet in height. 

Hibiscus 'Haight Ashbury'.

Mexican Bush Sage, Salvia leucantha 'Midnight'.

I love all the colors and you may have noticed that incredible blue sky?

Groundsel, Senecio mandraliscae and Sedum 'Ogon' behind it.

 Aloe 'Pink Blush'. What an incredible hybrid!

Then there are the exterior/interior design ideas that Flora Grubb is so famous for. I still haven't made my Sedum masterpiece, but that's probably because I am still stuck on that Jackson Pollock flowerbed idea. (More on that next season. I've made some progress with this idea this year.)

I am not sure if the wire baskets are oyster baskets, but they sure look like they could be. These little decorative wall items are kinds cute and I hope to make some this winter. I so love anything with gilding.

Last time I don't think I added a picture of their suspended Woollypocket display.

This geometric bear head is great too. After all it is California and they do have that silly bear on their flag, so why not!

Begonia 'Irene Nuss'.

Just before we left I discovered these two Begonias. Glad I did too because one of them I can grow from seed. It is really amazing how much leaf variation exists in this group. I truly am in love with all of them, but the Grape Leaf Begonia might just be my new favorite.

Grape Leaf Begonia, Begonia reniformis or Begonia vitifolia. 

Grape Leaf Begonia, Begonia reniformis or Begonia vitifolia.