Hippies! In the Park!

Recently, the most effective tool in our Battle of the Toddler arsenal has been...the threat of a haircut. Iain says he doesn't like the sound of the clippers. Whatever the reason, he will do (or not do) nearly anything to avoid a haircut.

So he looks like this. Check out those waves. I could make a great little mohawk out of that.

In other news, I drove down to Millcreek today to buy tomato cages. But you know how they are. I bought two tomato cages (and I love them because one is magenta and the other lemon yellow!), about ten small drought-tolerant ground covers (hens-n-chicks, plus a bunch of other stuff), and...

A big ol' Korean pear plus an espaliered Fuji apple tree.

Yes. I know. I only blogged yesterday about the sad demise of our bare-root trees. But here in the Snowy Mountains/Desert you have to act fast or you lose your window. So when the man at Millcreek said "yes, I have fruit trees" and I saw that lovely little apple tree...

They arrive Saturday. I already love them.

Good News, Bad News

Good news: I planted bamboo (finally!) and it's happily settling into its corner. This is a clumping bamboo (fargesia rufa), which will get to a bout 8-10 feet tall in about 2 years.

Good news: Iain's road grader helped me to dig, then plant two holes. Roses in both. I've put in one Graham Thomas plus one Gertrude Jekyll, and if things go right we should have a beautiful display of roses climbing on the fence corner in a few years. They'll be outside the fence, so our neighbors enjoy them but within the fence we'll preserve the Japanese garden aesthetic.

There's that Gertie.

Bad news: not only do I think the pear tree I planted last fall has died, I think the apple tree has died, too. The apple made lovely leaves all over, but they've now turned grey and shriveled. Neither tree looks like it's putting out anything new. Wah. So now I'll have to go check out local trees (not bare-root specimens) and see what happens.

No peonies this year, either. The bushes made buds but then a late frost made them burn. So I don't think there will be any flowers until next spring.

Gardening: not for the weak.

California (Knows How To Party)

Hello from the road. Light blogging post-Thursday because I've been traveling in SoCal.

We've eaten of the sushi, we've shopped of the outdoor mall, we've partaken of the film industry's latest offering (X Men). I worked out this morning and have a fresh pedicure.

I love Southern California.

Look for new and exciting pictures of my lettuce come Sunday.

Spring Color

Our neighbor owns this little duplex on the corner. Above it tower a set of trees that bloom in late May. I love these trees. The one you see here produces huge sprays of white flowers - similar to a crepe myrtle, but much more appealing as a tree. But wait...

This tree is really the superstar. Just like its neighbors except pink. And I mean, PINK.

With flecks of yellow to pop your eyes to the center of each tiny flower, pink!

I'm not normally a pink enthusiast. I prefer yellow and purple in the garden. But these trees are a delight. Our neighbor's grandfather planted the pink specimens more than seventy years ago. Last winter, one lost a huge branch and the city decided to cut it down. It's quite a loss, from my point of view. But today I saw several just like it, perhaps ten years old, blooming along 13th South.

Unrelated: today we had to buy a new booster seat on the fly. When we got to camp this morning (Camp! Glorious camp!) Iain asked me, "What's this?" That's a plastic part from your carseat, son. It should not be in your hand.

So I bought a new booster, installed it, and used that on the pickup.

• Me: "Iain, you have a new booster, see? Just like in Grandma's car."
• Iain: "Thank you, it's lovely!"

In other news, Iain pooped in the potty tonight. Twice.

Gardening as Dadaism

Last year I ordered two climbing roses from my favorite company: David Austin Roses.

They specialize in old English garden roses, many of which they create and name in honor of outstanding subjects of Great Britain.

My very favorite of Austin's roses is Graham Thomas. Golden yellow shading to peach, it smells like honeysuckle and opens to reveal a beautiful multi-petaled heart. I lovelovelove it. So I ordered a climbing Graham Thomas and another climber called Constance Spry.

But we got here in mid-May and I ordered in late May and they said it was too late. They'd hold my order until spring, 2011. Great! And by great I meant, crap! But I accepted their expertise.

Fast forward to spring, 2011. No rose. No rose. Nothing. I email. Nothing. I email again, and this time I get a reply (a very nice reply) and a promise to check on it.

A week later, they ship me a rose. It's supposed to be Graham Thomas because their supply of Constance Spry was "disappointing" or something. That's ok, through another email exchange they decide to send me another Graham Thomas. I figure I'll plant them together, train them over the fence, and all God's children will drool over my roses.

We received the first plant this week, and I planted it this morning (after letting my newest baby soak overnight in a bucket of water). When I reached down to remove the plastic tags, I say that they said "Gertrude Jekyll." Uh...

That's not Graham Thomas. That's not even yellow. It's pink. Hot pink. And it has an "old rose" fragrance, not the honeysuckle I wanted.

Well, poop.

So if we're being positive: now my fence will be pink and yellow, which is very pretty. Now I won't have duplicate Graham Thomas. Now I will repeat to myself, "gardening is always about accidents. Always."

Blooming

Last year, I began to work on the beds in our front yard. They contained four things on the left: a Japanese maple (in desperate need of some love), two small, shade-loving shrubs, three hostas, and an invasive ground cover.

I planted two shrubs (one died over the winter, but I've replaced it and now things seem back on track), some lemon thyme, some Japanese striped grass, and a row of little tiny mossy things. I forget what they're called. And over the winter I forgot that they make flowers! Flowers! Tiny, white and pink flowers that are so adorable I just want to squeeze them.

Check them out next to the pansies. Those pansies are practically climbing out of the ground.

Ain't it purty? A couple more years for the shrubs to grow and the tree to mature and I think we might have a pretty nice bed over there on the left.

The right is another story. Bleh. Needs work.

Hens and Chicks

Around here, water's scarce. Many of our neighbors have xeriscaped yards, with boulders and drought-tolerant plants but no grass.

We, on the other hand, have a beautiful expanse of bright green grass. It's watered all summer long by an automatic sprinkler system. The lawn needs mowing, weeding, watering, and raking about half the year.

Could we replace it? Our neighbor Linda told me that she was the first on our block to dig up her grass. One day she just started planting other things. So that's what I did, too. Two weeks ago I planted a little circle of Hens and Chicks. They're drought-tolerant, they renew themselves by generating little replacement plants (the chicks), and they are cheap.

Behold, the first patch. There are two patches, now, and perhaps soon I'll add some grasses (the kind you don't cut), some boulders, and some other heat-lovers. My plan is that eventually we'll have only a small portion of the yard for grass (if that) and we can cut back on watering, mowing, etc.