Spring Busting Out All Over

Last year, it was infernally dry, one of the hottest Summer seasons on record.  My tomatoes bloomed and grew, but put forth no tomatoes.  It was just too darn hot.  I planted a hydrangea last year, a fancy variety planted strategically to screen my neighbors and ourselves from each other. It died.

Then over the Winter, the oregano exploded in growth.  It took over almost an entire plot.  The lavender has been looking happy instead of half-dead and sending out new growth. The lemon verbena started its Spring growth early and mounded up very prettily.  Certain patches of lawn were looking very perky.  All of a sudden I notice, holy cow, Spring is excellent and it's almost over!  

One advantage to all this early rain and warmth is that my lawn has been feeling happy.  All Fall and Winter, I raked and seeded, weeded and seeded some more.  Now the front lawn actually looks green. Considering the sad, long- neglected state of our property, that is an unusually excellent state of affairs, believe me.  All that incremental work has been paying off.

Not only does the front yard look inviting rather than scruffy, the backyard is looking more and more like an enticing expanse for play. Whenever the little girl passes by, she is drawn to it.  We hear an "Eeeeeeee!" and before we can stop her, she has jumped the border, and is running down the hill, to the back fence, making loops over the lawn, and collapsing into the grass.   That just wasn't possible until recently.   Never mind that there are still whole swaths of lawn she is not allowed in yet - persistent poison ivy and whatnot - this looks like a playground to her.  The family of rabbits who live in our backyard think likewise.  Here, hawk, hawk! Nice tender rabbits over here. 

So I keep weeding and pulling vines, and picking up endless numbers of sweet gum balls (hundreds!) courtesy of a neighboring tree, raking old sticks and debris, pulling ticks off myself (sorry!), reseeding any patch of mud or bare ground, spritzing the poison ivy - persistent buggery seedlings! - and keeping ahead of the rain schedule.  I still have much, much, much to do, but we can see the progress, and it heartens us.

Of course, part of regrowing the grass means cutting it regularly to keep it neat.  I can't cut the entire property on one charge (we have an electric mower), so I do it in sections. One day I trim the edges with the weed whacker and mow the front.  A few days later, I pick up sticks and those infernal sweet gum balls. A few days later, I mow the back and whatever of the side yard I can stomach.  I pick up more sticks and pull some vines.  I mow the side yard in its entirety.  I zap new sprigs of poison ivy I've noted.  I pull weeds, and rake and seed bare spots.  Then I start again on the front yard.  It looks good!  Now I just have to distribute that mulch from the tree work we had done two years ago.

This weekend, my husband asked me what I wanted to do for Mother's Day.  I said, "Plant the garden!"  Luxury.

I put in some heirloom tomatoes, interspersed with marigolds and basil.  I finally planted the dill and new parsley.  I contemplated where I'd plant the annuals. I plotted digging up the dead hydrangea and planting a new one.  Then I picked up seed balls and sticks, etc, spritzed and weeded, etc, reseeded, etc.

Just in time.  More rain is on its way.  Hi Spring - I hope you're having fun! It's Garden Time.
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Reclaiming It Inch By Inch

I've been very engrossed in my yard and garden since Winter/early Spring when we've had some areas cleared out. I finally feel I can make a difference in the jungle that tries to creep up and swallow everything.

I've been using my FlyLady techniques of working in small increments of time, and it's made a huge difference. Every week, I spend, say, five minutes weeding around the edge of the driveway, ten minutes weeding and picking up branches, another 15 cutting up old brush or pruning the next shrub in line or reviving the plantings around the patio, or whatever area I'm focusing on.

I and my husband both have been astounded/delighted at the the changes. Those little bits here and there are piling up into significant change, and my vision for the space is taking shape. So it's no wonder that every day and every week, I'm eager to go out and make more progress.

Yesterday I:

Spent about four hours working.
Filled our yard waster container plus three extra bags with vines and debris.
Weeded more ivy back beside the driveway.
Weeded more ivy back near the fence.
Took down some dried vines from a tree.
Weeded around an old fence fragment in prep for it being dismantled.
Cut large vine roots and yanked up as much as I could.
Weed-whacked around the fig trees and the back fence.
Yanked more vines and ivy from around some existing daffodils and day lilies.
Inspected the volunteer plum that has real green fruit starting.
Threw out random pieces of archeological trash.
And cleared space to dig a hole in prep for one of the new hydrangeas.

Among other things.

In the front yard, I've enacted numerous small jobs over several weeks, such as:

Transplanted the daffodils that are in the wrong place, and replanted them with the others, and dividing them while I was at it.
Planted some small bulb iris out near the street where they'll look pretty for passer-byers.
Planted bulb iris in some of the front gardens to fill in gaps.
Raked and reseeded swaths of the front yard.
Added mulch around the sugarberry/hackberry tree.
Yanked out small springs of poison ivy.
Planted a couple bunches of Purple Tongue plant.
Weeded around the front gardens.
Added more compost to the front vegetable gardens, and planted various tomatoes (heirloom, plum, cherry) and herbs (lemon verbena, thyme, basil, lavender) and some marigolds near the tomatoes.
Planted more lavender in the porch garden.
Planted snapdragons for annual color.
Started to prune the Japanese maple that are started to gangle all over the front beds like lanky adolescents.
Mulch, mulch, mulched.

And that's not even considering the side yard!

But in the backyard, I'm really getting going.

I've been plotting out the space for new fruit trees (slowly replenishing the yard from its early years), ripping up ivy or other vines from its forays into relatively pristine lawn, and getting ready to put in some raised beds for new vegetable gardens.

The raised beds will run parallel to but five feet away from the side fence that we share with our neighbors. It's in one of the few still sunny areas on our property, so I'm excited about making attractive use of it with both vegetables and flower plantings.

In a related area, I'll add on to existing flower plantings to create a more substantial visual point. In another area of the side yard, I'm going to add some attractive flowering shrubbery to make visual peace with our neighbors - I know they are tired of looking at our junky side yard, and we could use more pretty screening greenery. I might mulch along the fence line or not. I certainly want to reseed the lawn in the areas previously covered by the huge bales of honeysuckle, grapevine, and other vines.

Our neighbors have been undertaking their own progression. They've started a terraced patio behind their house, had a beautiful fence put up along the back of the property, killed off their entire backyard lawn with R0undup and just this week, reseeded. Makes my wincing use of herbicide look rather puny, huh?

And of course, all this fervent activity is not without its side results. Every other workday, I pull a tick or two off of myself. I get bitten, scratched, sprayed with dirt from recaltrient roots, and end up with twigs and inchwords in my hair if I'm ducking under branches. Various chiggers take up residence under my clothes, and I come in with too much sun, or itchy reactions on my face or arms. Oo, and I have an allergic reaction to poison ivy. Yes, it's official now. I have prescriptions, yo.

But I'm also getting a terrific workout! I pull, I sweat, I drag and hack. My upper body especially enjoys this, but my legs get into the act too. Today, I'm stiff all over from my four hours of sustained work. Oh, and I am able to fit into some of my pre-pregnancy jeans now. Also, my bicepts have apparently been replaced by painful rocks. That's all thanks to all my ivy-pulling.

It reminds me of backpacking; even when one is tired, one keeps going and going and going at a slow but manageable yet steady pace. And at the end of this sweatiness, I've cleared more space, or neatened another patch of ground, or spruced up another overgrown shrub. You know that song "inch by inch"? I'm living it. Another few inches, another section of ground looking happier.

Can't wait to build those beds and put in some Summer vegetables. Can't wait for it to start looking like a proper happy yard again.
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Fighting the Equivalent Evil

So I've been throwing myself at the yard this Winter and Spring. We had some people come and hack back limbs and brush on more than one occasion, and those portions are looking amazingly better. And as often happens, I'm inspired to tweak the upkeep.

Most recently, we had the side yard and fence line hacked back. Wow! We actually have a back yard! And now we have space to plant more fruit trees - hehe. This is part of my long-term yard revitalization, bringing it back from years of tangled neglect into a more usable space.

And although we've already dropped gobs of money on house renovations and yard reworkings this year, we are excited about the space. I've even gotten my husband excited about planting some raised garden beds for vegetables in back. That's in addition to the fruit trees I'm putting in shortly.

Anyhoo, it's been lovely and invigorating going out to rip up vines and clear brush every other evening, and watching old plantings gain more space. But in the process, I've been seeing other things start to grow. Things like... poison ivy. Ugh. It sends out its little rootlings everywhere and anytime it sees an opening, zammo - it pops out a few leaves and starts growing like heck. Urk. Like, growing all over the back! Ack! Ack!

Now, plain old ivy does not bother me. I can rip it up along with the other five or six named and unnamed vines infesting my lawn and trees and shrubbery and anything not moving fast enough. But poison ivy? Nonono. That stuff is eeeeviiiilllll.

I had been keeping ahead of most of it with daily weedings (bag over the hand technique), but the recent rains have given the stuff real legs. And it was popping up in swaths. Swaths! Sadly, that is not an exaggeration. All over the middle of the back yard, mind you!

I thought to myself that if we didn't get ahead of it, it was going to literally take over the back yard to the point to not being able to walk to the fig trees, and I couldn't bear it.

So then I was thinking to myself - I hate the heavy duty herbicides, but that's exactly what we need to knock the stuff back. I refuse to acquiesce to this horrible stuff just as we are regaining our yard.

I finally found some kind of lawn herbicide was wasn't going to immediately kill me, and said, okayokay, I can do this. I've got the long pants and the long-sleeved shirt and the gloves and all.

This evening I went out while the light was still good and zapped every sprig I could lay my eyes on. Which was a lot. In fact, I was finding large leaves of it in places I hadn't even seen it before. Ugh! So I kept going and kept going, and the bottle started running a little low. I thought, well, I'll use up as much of it as I can tonight! And I was trying to not step on the evil stuff as I was spraying, and trying to not step in the evil stuff I'd already sprayed and trying to not think too hard about the drips soaking into my gloves, and the exposure I might be getting. At least it did not stink.

I got about three-quarters of the way around, and I said Okay That is Enough! And I wrapped up the bottle and threw it out and went in to wash the darn gloves and then strip and stuff my clothing into the washer. And tell my husband that the little girl is not allowed in the back yard for a week, at least, although the spray is supposed to dry to rain-proof within hours. I just can't stand the idea of the wee one tromping through it. In fact, maybe she can stay out of the back yard until this whole mess is over. Like, maybe, June.

I thought I felt a little lump in my throat, and I guzzled lots of water to help flush out random toxins. It's ugly stuff, but I think the poison ivy is worse. And if anybody wants to argue with me about how horrible the toxins are that are capable of killing the stuff, why yes, I do agree, and I'd like to invite you to come over every other day and pull it up for me by hand instead!

I can't wait to see that nasty stuff shrivel up and die. And then I'll really get my yard back. I just may have to get some new gloves so I can get back to work.
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Ah, Arizona

Looking through my Flickr site recently, I found a stream-of-conscious piece about Arizona, and thought I'd repost it here interspersed with a few images from that time.

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Early Morning Sky in late July


Organ Pipe Morning Bloom


The entrance to the Desert Botanical Garden
always looks magical in early morning light.
Members are allowed in at 6 a.m. twice a
week. The light is so gorgeous, I don't mind
the heat so much, although it's already
starting to bake.

Ah, Arizona. Can't live there. Can visit.

Unfortunately, I can't include the full sensory experience here.

The heavy blanket of heat, the smell of creosote bushes, the pale feathery palo verde trees swaying in the hot breeze,

the sounds of native birds cooing, rattling or buzzing, the subtle change in humidity when the seasons shift, the sight of saguaro cacti in the pouring rain when the monsoon rains finally hit and the sudden burst of growth,

Ocotillo Leafing Out /o ko TEE yo/
the public art on every highway ramp and overpass, the taste of prickley pear candy, the tinkle of seed pods on the ground, and cookies made from them,

the fellowship of people, the native crafts that astound one everywhere, the sight of a tarantula spider running across the road on a reservation, the thrill (and terror) of having to pass someone on a two-lane highway at 100 mph, while seeing oncoming traffic two miles away,

the sheer grandure and scale of the landscape, trying to capture it all,

The Echo Cliffs between Flagstaff and Page.
staying inside all day because of the heat waiting for the temps to drop below 100F and the humidity to rise above 4%, then going out in the late evening to eat and check out the gallery scene,

spilled water drying on the floor in minutes, no cold water in Summer,

waiting and waiting for rainclouds to drop some moisture, arroyos or "rivers" of dry gravel, gravel desert yards,

the people in Scottsdale who insist on wasting water to grow green grass, the canals of water, the flavour of PHX water, the isolation and poverty of the reservations,

the vibrant creativity and skill of artisans featured at the Heard Museum, my lusting after turquoise I can't afford,

Contemporary work by Jesse Monogya at the Heard Museum
climbing up South Mountain trying to get there before dusk and my husband freaked out about the steep drop, avoiding heatstroke, sad histories, dry desert shifting colors at sunset...


Looking North, Phoenix is spread out at our feet. People of all cultures and ages, families and young people, come to South Mountain to enjoy the view and the warm evening breezes, a welcome respite from the relentless heat of the day. At dusk, the temperatures are dropping below 100F for the night.

It's hard to leave Arizona. Can't live there. Can't forget it.


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Mystery Iris

A lovely yellow-and-white iris has started blooming in my front yard out by the street. The mystery of it is that I did not plant this! I have several other kinds of things I've planted in this section of garden over the years, but I never would have gone out of my way to pick *that* color of iris. So where on earth did it come from?

Maybe it piggy-backed from another planting when I transplanted daylilies many years ago? Maybe the previous owners planted it there ten years ago and it's just now coming up?? Maybe my neighbors or someone planted a couple as a surprise??? Did I plant it but completely forget about it???? I'm grasping at straws, here, because there is really no clear reason for it. There are plenty of other plantings in the same area, so why this, now?

Eh, maybe it doesn't matter where it came from. Whatever the reason, it's a delightful surprise and looking glorious.

Now I'm thinking, hmm, ya know, that's a nice variety... I may even need to put in a few more to plump it out the stand.

So, thanks, Universe for the unexpected gift. Pretty cool.