Kenai

This is my baby girl, Kenai Peninsula Ty, better known as Booga. Kenai has a four layer coat; she blows the under coat 3 times a year. Right now, she looks about 20 pounds heavier than she did a month ago, and it's all winter down.


Here's another one of Booga coming out from under the Tequila. Kenai loves rolling in scented things: Salvias, fine perfume, Doug's hair, fertilizer, and - unfortunately - cat poop.

Kenai will be 10 years old on Valentine's Day.

Indian Summer

As much as I hate the heat, I'll take hot days in September/October any day over hot days in June/July. Indian Summer is the typical Bay Area weather pattern, as Doug reminds me every year, so no surprise when it comes.

So how hot is it? The past 2 days got up to 93 - 95 in Hayward and Oakland - just in time for Stevie to start at his new school. And, of course, I've been going east each day after drop-off. It was 105 in Livermore at 1:30 on Wednesday; 101 in Pleasanton at 11:30 on Tuesday.

What's a gardener to do? Water! It's okay to put a little extra down and save your plants. Some just can't handle the stress. In our garden, the salvias are fine but the fuchsias and impatiens go limp in hot dry weather. Although I've been getting by this summer with watering twice a week, I'm watering everyday until the hot spell is over, especially the new plants my It's Fall! excitement put in the ground last week; the chamomile lawn started to look like cooked spinach on Tuesday. And of course anything in a pot will dry out faster than a plant in the ground.

Watering is one of those "things". Jo says you should never water after 10AM, but she's a rose lady and is always in battle against mold. With a busy work and family schedule, I have no qualms about watering in the evening on a hot day (sometimes any day); I accept the columbine tends to get moldy and nasty. My Mom's friend Arlene lives in Fairfield which is crazy hot all summer; she waters the balcony garden (all pots) twice a day.

So why the inconsistent posts of late? We just set up a new computer; it screams ^_^

ps - after emergency watering the back and side, I remembered a couple of other points. This spring, Jo was kind enough to take me on the East Bay MUD Bay-Friendly Garden Tour; we hit about 7 houses. It was fascinating! Especially as so many of the gardens we looked at could hardly be termed "water-wise".

However, one house really stood out in terms of excellent plant selection and...harmonious design. It just looked lovely (yes, lots of salvias). After complimenting the owner on a marvelous garden, I asked how she managed watering, and was delighted to confirm the entire property was hand watered; I've been mildly embarrassed that irrigation is the last priority on our list.

This was their second garden. The first time around, they layed irrigation, planted, and a year later discovered things didn't grow exactly as expected and ended up re-doing a major portion of the system. Having learned that lesson, they were giving this garden 2 years and then put in the lines. (They water once a week.)

I have an ancient sprinkler system in the front and hand-water the back and side. Frankly, I like to hand water: it's relaxing, I can hose down the plants eliminating dirt and bugs, gives me a chance to get in touch with what's happening with individual plants and whether communities are working, meditate on blog entries, etc. The water is directed exactly where I need it without waste.

I would hand-water the front, but the spigot is currently buried in a mound of Mexican Bush Sage. That's going to change!

Orb Weaver Spiders

It's about the time of year when the orb weavers start to gain awe inspiring girth and size - of the oh my god proportions of Aragog or Shelob. They come in all different colors - blond, red, black with white - but always have the same crab like shape to the abdomen. This cutie is from my Mom's garden around October 2002.

And this is Goliath, the mother of all spiders in our garden, or at least I like to think so. I'm certain we had them before, but this is the first one we noticed (Sept 2001). She is hiding in her nest in the walnut leaves; don't ask what all the greyish crud is. This is not her web; the web has a distinctive spiral shape hence the name orb weaver. Being opportunistic hunters (waiting for something to fly into the web), they don't move around a lot, which is something I sincerely appreciate as these spiders get HUGE.

The eggs hatch from a sack about the size of a small golf ball in spring (I relocated one from the shed to the walnut); you really don't notice the babies until June-ish? They seem to come and go through out summer, actively hunting for a couple of weeks, disappearing, and re-appearing bigger than ever each time. The abdomen on the female swells so large it literally swings the spider to the left and right as they fly up and down the drag line from nest to web.

Until one day, they look kind of slower than usual, and then they seem to be gone come November. I was very sad when Goliath departed. But then I saw the babies next spring and realized this is their way.

This year, we have one in the bamboo Lin gave us and another in the leather fern.

Fall is Here

Having just begun pulling antique impatiens in earnest, yet being bereft of appropriate photographic images due to a multiplicity of factors, I find myself still in need to share the fact that Fall is Here.

Aside from the fact that it smells like Fall, I had a strong need to cut back the Salvia Hot Lips hard. Then I spied leaves shed from the tree above Janet's house in my small pocket garden and gathering along the wall. Today was so cold, I turned on the heater (not that we don't have plenty of time for Indian Summer).

And just now, I pulled an entire bank of antiques impatiens as they are done for the year, all shriveled and yellowing with hardly a bloom. The bed is so stark without them; I forget what it looks like and then suffer surprise, only to remind myself - This is the way of the seasons. Many plants and critters awaken in spring to die or fall asleep in fall.

Hot Lips

I first heard about this little cutie from a volunteer-ish type person at the UC Botanical Garden who was kind enough to share conversation about salvias. She enthusiastical professed love of the Hot Lips, a versatile, drought tolerant beauty with a wonderful scent and flowers that open in shades of pearly white to painted bright red. She kindly offered a cutting, but the garden was in Mendocino and she stopped showing up on Sunday mornings, our prime time.

A couple of years later, the Garden had an offering at the Spring plant sale which I snatched up (okay - I walked back and forth a couple of times before deciding). As with most salvias, it thrives in dappled shade - even though most tags recommend full sun - and likes to be cut back hard.

They take a couple of years to settle, typically looking leggy until one day, you realize it's taken over the entire bed you better do something quick before plants you like get completely smothered.

Not long after we planted ours, I was delighted to see one outside the Hayward PD. This year, it's featured in planters all along PW Market. Though I'm not terribly fond of "landscaping plants", it's a thrill to see plants I - and the hummingbirds - love being used in public spaces.

Hybrid CA and European Poppies?!

This is probably one of the craziest things I've ever seen.

When we first bought our house 10 years ago, there was an incredibly overgrown Texas previt in the side garden that towered above the second story roof line (they're supposed to be hedges). We took the previt out around year 2, but the trunk and root were so large it defied stump grinding, and the plant was so obnoxious it literally poisoned the soil and robbed all the nutrients.

I'd pulled the offensive beast out, but now what to do? Nothing could grow - except plants that like cruddy soil. In went a box of wildflower seeds, and we started the long, slow process of root decomposition and soil conditioning; we eventually drilled holes in the remaining root and filled them with a nitrite powder; the New Zealand tree fern now fills the old previt space.

Meanwhile, we a had a gorgeous crop of spring wildflowers every year - and a lot of clean-up in July after they all pooped! As the soil recovered, I started planting more bones, but the wildflowers come up each year much to our delight.

Our neighbors bought a house down the street, and the front yard was dirt. Linley put in a selection of seeds including European and California poppies. Each year his garden erupts in hip-high, fancy European poppies. Diane sprinkled some seeds in our bed, and they came up.

Although I sowed some designer poppies a few years ago (blood red, yellow, and butter), I have never seen a pink, frilled California poppy. I swear it is a cross between the two. Imagine my surprise when I found this in the garden!

On Fertilizing

I am certainly not the only gardener (the kind who loves plants, not the kind who "landscapes") that has a mixed feelings about fertilizing. I had a conversation at The Hort with one horticulturist who divulged an on-going battle amongst the staff concerning fertilizing - or the lack there of.

Personally, I like to do it when it rains (hence the fuzzy shots). Actually, I have rather strict requirements of when the time is right to fertilize: the second day of a good solid rain, preferably when I know a third day is coming - though I can always fake a third day with the hose, never in winter - though sometimes it's hard to tell if winter has ended and it's truly spring, and I try to do it when Kenai is not around.

She rolls in it. She rolls in everything: cat poop, dog poop (not her own - she steps in that), the salvias, poison oak, and my husband. My personal favorite is her love of perfume. Two squirts on the carpet and she's like a cat in catnip for 10 minutes. It's so funny! But I don't think it's funny when she rolls in fertilizer.

Obviously with all these restrictions, I don't fertilize very often. Maybe 4 times a year, 6 at the most, and depending on which part of the garden. We use Whitney's Organic General Purpose. It's a great product. My brother-in-law, David, turned me on to it years ago. And as long as I'm hitting the plants, I always throw a cup on the compost pile(s). It's basically the same thing as compost starter without the expense.

The Rose Lady across the street laughs at me every year cause there's Bonnie, out in the rain, weeding and fertilizing. "Are you from Oregon?!" Wish I were. Note she's outside with me while I garden.

Why am writing about fertilizing in July? Shockingly, it rained today! Okay, it's a spit really, but it made me think of spring.

Coral Bells

It seems that most plants want full sun, which is a real issue in our garden. The cedar literally covers the back yard, and the side garden lies to the east of our 2 story home. After 10 years, we have just started shaping the front, which receives sun - but a lot of foot traffic! Not amenable to planting a vegetable garden :(

I was quite delighted to find a Heuchera, commonly known as coral bells, that accepts part shade. This little guy (cv. Canyon Chimes Saxifragaceae) didn't do much of anything for the first two years, and then burst into bloom this spring. Could it be the winter frost? I'm in love and plan to divide and spread.

Angel's Trumpet

Brugmansia is a member of the nightshade family, which includes datura, morning glory, and loco weed - all of which are extremely pyschoactive.

Mine languished in a pot for almost 2 years while I struggled with poisonous plants and a very active, orally-fixated toddler. One day I did a search online, and after 2 hours, realized most plants that we don't cultivate for food are poisonous. Unfortunately, that didn't stop three high school students from munching on flowers at People's Park in 2003 after a local told them it would get them high. Everyone survived, but two were admitted to the hospital.

The Angel's Trumpet went in the ground and I went on a mission to teach Stevie which plants he could, and could not, stick in his mouth. I think borage is what saved the day as he loves picking and eating the flowers; they taste like sweet cucumbers and freely re-seed. My neighbor, the rose lady, likes them in salads.

The flowers in the nightshade family have a unique star-like shape. They are lightly scented with honey, but the bees and hummingbirds literally veer in mid-air to avoid the flower.

The Angel's Trumpet did not like the frost; we had to severely prune - but it's back and blooming! Brugmansia tends to look really crappy before a bloom, but fills with leaf after. I get about 3 or 4 blooms a year.

There are massive, wild, white ones dotting the Hayward and San Leandro hills. The botanical garden had a beautiful deep red native in the South America section, but I think it didn't fare the winter well either...

Rhodies

I fell in love with Rhododendrons at Humboldt State University where they tower over walk ways and shield the buildings and walls. This shot is from Golden Gate Park on Mother's Day. Note the pink ground from fallen blossoms.

Just to give you some scale, that's me walking amongst the giants.

So obviously we planted one in our garden, a Douglas Stephens for my two favorite guys. This was by far his best year. It's been in the ground 9 years, and frankly I almost yanked it 2 years ago because it just never grew. Admittedly it is not a large plant (topping to about 5 feet), but I fretted; bad light? not enough water? I knew soil wasn't the problem.

I finally complained to one of the gardeners at the Hort about lack of performance and he said it takes 10 years for them to establish. The roofers and painters certainly didn't help (we ended up building a box around it to keep off debris and boots after a major branch was broken). And sure enough, it's almost up to the window sill! Finally.

You have to be careful; each of the rhodies in front of this house are beautiful, but together the vibrant neon colors become a bit of an eye strain.

We recently took a 10 day road trip to Whidbey Island just off the coast of Seattle (and we're still married!). Having never gotten above Trinidad, I was completely humbled by the forest and dense undergrowth of rhodedendrons. Now I know what rhodies really look like. We/I forgot to charge the friggin' camera so no pix :(

Redwood Sorrel

Redwood sorrel is a beautiful ground cover for shady areas. The California NATIVE oxalis is not that nasty yellow flower stuff from Australia? that invades and takes over, but rather a dainty carpet found in redwood groves.

My husband picked a little 4" pot for the fern bed about 8 years ago. I divided it in 3 clumps, and it now covers the entire length of our side fence.

The feathered leaves are bleeding hearts (dicentra); they had a great year - as did many plants - I think due to the heavy frost we had last winter. The fuschias didn't like it, but everyone else flourished.

Resident (Migratory) Hummers

We have 2 resident hummingbirds in the back: Coral Top and Cptn Squeeky Pants. Coral Top roosts in the Chinese Lantern (Vesuvius) when not flitting on the wire or curly willow.

I think it's his 2nd year with us; Cptn Squeeky Pants roosts in the deodar cedar and has been with us at least 3 years.

When we first started buying plants, I ran into a brochure at The Berkeley Hort about plants that attract butterflies and hummingbirds. It worked!

Although they love the chinese lantern and the salvias, an all time favorite are the antique impatients, also known as Poorman's Orchids. An agressively re-seeding plant of the quick-in-the-hand variety, we have banks of wonderful flowers starting late spring and lasting through mid-summer (it's Doug's favorite).

Many other birds besides the hummingbirds migrate to our garden every year. Obviously we use no pesticides, herbicides, or chemical fertilizers.

Coral Top has some kind of relationship with the front yard hummer. He actually tolerates roosting together, but gawd forbid the interloper dare to suck on the hot lips! That always results in chase and flight.

Orchid Cactus

Latin name Epiphylum, the orchid cactus is a totally bizarre plant with umpteen species. I first met this plant over 20 years ago at the San Diego Wild Country Safari where they keep a grow house filled with these guys hanging in baskets. My mom half-heartedly collects them. This one came from her garden; it just finished blooming.

I read one account this is a totally man-made plant hybridizing jungle plants with new world desert - don't know if that's true as the UC Botanical Garden now features a few in the Arid House.

For years, most of the flowers were a shade of yellow, other colors were rare and hard to breed. This one came to me when a friend's Auntie died; the plant must be about 20 years old.

I have one that only blooms at night, a present from my friend Lin who collects and breeds cymbidiums, hence the somewhat foggy photo. I tried to get my neighbor Janet over to see it last summer, but it started at 9:30 at night and lights were out. The next night, it had pooped. I found reference to "the moon flower" in the Two Gardeners (editor Emily Wilson), letters between Katharine White (E.B.White's wife) and Elizabeth Lawrence. Great book!

The flower is short lived, 1 - 3 days, fragrant, and exotic.

On Salvias

Since this is supposed to be a garden blog, it is best to start at the beginning: My True Love of Salvias. All kinds. I like natives, and over-cultivated hybrids, and arid ones, and jungle ones. Tall ones, short ones. Never ending joy; 951 odd species.

Here is the big daddy giant in our backyard: Tequila. Yep, that's me and Booga, my first born chile.

The beauty is it blooms ALL winter long (blossoms a tad in summer too); gigantic spears of bright red tubes nestled in black calyx. Here's a close up:


The leaves smell wonderful! That's why Kenai 's in the midst; she rubs back and forth through all the salvias. Better than perfume! There's a reason why folks have cooked with sage since the beginning of time (or something like that...).