Crown Lifting: The Key to Being Queen Custodian to a Doug Fir in the City

There is nothing like lifting the crown of a huge evergreen tree when you live in the city. 

After.

Before.

There are two Doug firs on this property and admittedly, they've not been tended to until recently. (This is the post from last spring about the Medusa-headed specimen on the south side of the house.)

After.

Before.

Now that the light is flooding in, I can reexamine what to do with what's underneath the tree. I had been planning on doing a big makeover anyway to really tidy up the design so wish me luck! There will be many more posts to come...

After.

Before.

Plants Make Me Ill (Revisiting Chronic Illness in the Garden)

With all of the recent changes it has been difficult for me to sit and think about being chronically ill. Mostly that's because it's what I thought about for so many years; the diagnosis robbed me of many things and it hurt deeply. Gardening kept me busy, but mostly I read about it. Actually being outside all of the time was another thing altogether and that became more and more difficult as I became more ill. But who out there amongst us isn't an armchair gardener at one point or another?

Now I am feeling better, so I don't have as much time to sit and think, but the avoidance is mostly due to my not wanting to accept or even acknowledge what I've seen as a roadblock and an obstacle for so long. So much of my current divorce has to do with the illness, but it is certainly not everything and I know that too.

Peony bloom I snapped from the sidewalk. 

Currently, when I don't have plans with friends on Friday nights, I take leisurely 6-mile walks to Powell's Books on Hawthorne and then I walk back home through Mt Tabor Park. These are productive walks where I not only get the much needed exercise I've missed for the last decade or so, but I also get to feel the joy I used to feel at just looking at things—mostly plants.

Rockery overflowing with Basket of Gold, Aurinia saxatilis.

During these walks I am in awe of how thrilling it is to be able to breathe and to walk. And although plants do still make me a bit ill—at least their pollen that is—I am learning how to better manage my asthma and to feel the symptoms in my body. For so long I was unable to do so because I'd become so numb from all of the swelling but I can feel a lot now. 

Walking past Portland Nursery still makes me giggle a little since it's no longer an escapist refuge for me as it once was when I could barely get anything done all day.

Seeing the cherry blossom petals scattered on the sidewalk while standing amongst them has made me smile with pleasure this year. They won't be here for long and this year I won't have to see them solely from the car as I fly past them. I savored them the other night because they'll be gone next week.

No one knows this yet but I have lived at the base of Mt Tabor Park for almost 8 years and it was only within the last few months that I've been able to visit all of its reservoirs.

False Solomon's Seal, Maianthemum racemosum.

Finding native plants in the park has been a great boon too.

Vine Maple, Acer circinatum.

Lastly, while up at the park, walking and thinking about chronic illness, I thought a lot about the native Vine Maple. It is so tiny among giants, stretching for the sunshine, doing its best as an understory resident. Thinking about how much I've always liked this tree, and how calm I've felt beneath them spring, summer, or fall, seeing them during my walk home in the woods of Mt. Tabor felt like coming across another old friend. 

Somehow this comforting end to my walk on Friday helped me to find the courage to do some research into what to call the current stage of my chronic illness experience. From inside, I have felt so much certainty about so many things but I haven't understood at all why. I have felt very isolated, but I just knew that if I looked hard enough I would find something—and I did!

Just as my disease is new and unknown, so too are the studies of people living as I do. We become chronically ill as adults, suffering for many years with uncertainty and change, there comes a moment when we face death, we get through it, and then with extra medical attention, we improve suddenly after something is changed or adjusted. We are the lucky ones. Many living with chronic illness will never get this opportunity and I think knowing this is part of the catalyst for what happens internally to some of us. I, like many others, have been rewarded with just the outcome we'd spent so much time trying to let go of so as not to create false hope within ourselves. We had to learn to live in that moment between enduring and suffering, committing to ourselves not to dream about being able to live in the reality I have just reentered—one with so much more freedom. 

One study said that there may only be 5-10% who experience what they called self-reformation, but I think that further study will show a higher number of people who enter into this process. Medical science seems to improve daily and there will be more people like me. There must be others out there already too who, like me, simply don't know what to call what they're going through. 

Here are the phases that have so far been identified, but I am putting them in my own order, as they occurred within myself: need for reciprocity (to help others who are suffering), value suffering, appreciate one's abilities, a disregard for material things, maximizing today, reordering priorities and exiting from unsatisfying relationships. 

This last one is the tricky one. It shows my part in the divorce, and I agree with what I read about other people in my situation. When I read the experience of one woman, I was shocked to see myself in her words. This list also points forward for me, and what I read also made me think so much about plants and gardening—funny how that always seems to happen. I am sure that many of you out there already understand this too in your own lives.

Plants might still make me a teeny tiny bit ill with allergy or an immune response but there is no way I am ever leaving the garden again. All roads seem to lead right back to plants in my life and that's just the way it's going to be...

Growth Takes Time—At Least for Me

I used to tell people jokingly that our house just happened to be in my garden. This is no longer a laughing matter though as I enter into that next phase of deciding what to do with my life and my belongings—even the green ones. 

Yes, divorce takes time. I see that now. It's not like I will wake up tomorrow and the instant nearly overnight beauty of the mature Japanese maple and some choice tulips will be what my life will look like. I think my current new growth will take some time. 

As I grow I will observe, and not judge. Like a gardener tending to a new plant, I will decide what kind of growing conditions are needed and I will watch and wait. If I need to be moved somewhere else to flourish, I will be moved. 

Recently, as I've been walking around Portland I've been thinking about the similarities and differences I have with plants, and the activity has been more informative than I'd imagined it would be and so much more positive than several of the alternatives...

The Laburnum tree that I grew from seed didn't take long at all before it started to put on its show.

I won't grow at that rate though and I am alright with that.

For those who know me you're bound to agree that I can be as tacky and as flashy as the hot pink Azaleas people are always trying to get rid of in the FREE section of Craigslist—at least they do this in the Portland area.

I am part Italian after all and I do love to be a bit over the top at times.

Then there is a lot about me that needs to be looked at closely to be examined and I have to examine it regularly myself. Sadly this does make me a bit of a ruminator, but just so long as my illness stays in remission and I can take that ruminating behavior to the streets, it's not at all the issue it can become when I am required to be physically inactive due to my health problems.   

I know this now and it is the teeny bit of green I'm currently proud to wear. (At least here I have seen growth—lots of it!) 

There are also those dainty girl moments which I've been having far more of recently. They don't need to be discussed here necessarily, but let's just say that my friend pampered me and she took me to have a mani/pedi in California and it was great fun for a change. I had no idea either that an eyebrow waxing could be as exciting as pruning a shrub but there you go. I learned something completely new!

Overall I do feel like the special plant, unusual, hard-to-find, maybe a bit damaged and bruised on the sale rack right now. I am that item most gardeners will pass up because I cost too much, or look a bit odd and my novelty may not come in the correct color for their garden. Ok, I might even need a bit of extra care and attention.

Looking at my illness this way has been a relief. Honestly it has been because I think all of what I just wrote is very true for many of us living with chronic illness.

Sometimes I burst open at the seams a bit and explode like my Clematis did while I was in California. That's ok too I think, and maybe it makes me more common, and less likely to be as delicate as I sometimes think that I am. 

Things I will never go without though as I change and grow will be my tall boots and my odd choice of hot pink luggage with polka dots. Life is too short to be dull and colorless.

This is at my core. These items will remain at my center. They are part of what identify me as who I am.

My humor is also at the center of who I am and remembering why I'm called Annie, and how much I love hearing it with an Irish brogue. This too is part of where I come from and I am proud to have known some very amazing Irish priests.

Lastly, to help me as I grow I will not miss out on my deepest and darkest of treats. There are many foods which I love, but my love of pommes frites with truffle oil, parmesan cheese, and squid ink aioli reaches such depths that I truly would be lost without them. 

So yes, it's an in between phase for me. I am growing but it is slow and as I do so I am noting what characteristics define me and where I am best suited in the design of things. In all seriousness, thinking like this has been far more beneficial than any book or online posting I've read about the divorce process. I guess I really do just see things through nature and plants, and yes, I really do still believe that the house just happens to be in my garden. 

I just don't know yet if I can grow here anymore.

Wordless Wednesday: My Last Walk Around San Carlos and Belmont (CA)