Potato Queen and Mulch Boy

Before

2012-02-29T08:50:00.000-05:00

Monday we had temps in the mid 60s and sun, so I finally got to begin my weeding of The Disaster That Is My Yard. AND for once, I remembered to take "before" pictures, so that I can better brag about my "after." So in the interest of full disclosure (and public self-shaming), here are pictures of my front yard as of Monday.

The little blue house has seen better days.

Oh... dear.

In fairness to myself, this bed WAS completely under water
this summer when the creek flooded and turned our street
into a raging river.

Hey, the crocuses are alive!

Why is it the street-side areas are the ugliest?

Who knows what lurks in the flower bed? The Shadow knows...

Technically this is my neighbor's yard, but since I made the
bed for them (it was bare dirt before), I take full responsibility
for it. The good news is the black-eyed Susans are
spreading underneath there and will hopefully become
a permanent natural mulch.

This... could be worse.

We bought this mulch from a neighborhood
Boy Scout. Last March.

These plastic pots? Sitting here for two years. Yes, those
are Christmas lights.

Well, that doesn't look so bad.

No Gardening on Account of Dogs

2012-02-24T16:02:00.001-05:00

Although it was fully my intent to start weeding yesterday, it was not to be.

It’s the dogs’ fault. Charlie and Rosie spent the day at the vet, getting their teeth scaled. For those unfamiliar with the process, it requires knocking out your pet so the vet can scrape all those coffee and tobacco stains (well, that’s what they look like) off your pup’s teeth.

My plan was to pick up the dogs from their ordeal right after work, then start in with The Weeding in the front yard. But the vet told me that I should try to keep the pups quiet when we got home as they recovered from their ordeal.

Well, there’s no possibility of my weeding in the front yard without Charlie and Rosie absolutely losing their minds at being excluded, and standing in the living room barking and barking and barking for me to COME IN NOW. Thus, in spite of the balmy almost-70-degree weather and soft sunshine, I found myself planted on the couch in the living room instead with my pups.

Rosie was happy to nap in the recliner, nursing her sorrow at having a lower incisor pulled (I’m pretty sure it was her favorite one). But it was Charlie who provided the entertainment that made up for missing out on a perfect gardening day.

Poor little guy was exhausted, no doubt from the residual effects of the anesthesia but also from the excitement and drama of the day. But like a three-year-old who does NOT want to go to bed, Beagle was fighting tooth and nail to stay awake, refusing to lie down. As a result, I watched him sit on the opposite side of the couch, his eyes slowly drooping and drooping until they were closed, his little body swaying slightly until he nearly tipped over before jerking awake. And then the cycle would begin again.

He did this all evening.

Only when we took him up to bed with us did he finally allow himself to lie down and then OUT he was in an instant, Rosie curled up beside him on our bed. Normally we let the pups snooze on the bed until we turn out the lights. This time, however, we didn’t have the heart. Thus, Mulch and I clung to the edges of our respective sides of the bed while Charlie and Rosie slept comfortably in the middle, recovering from the stresses of the day.

I dreamed I was planting carrots

2012-02-22T13:26:00.000-05:00

For reals. I don't remember the entire dream, but I do remember kneeling on the ground, smoothing a patch of my garden soil, breaking up clumps of dirt, then making the tiny trenches in which to sprinkle my carrot seeds.

I think this means I'm gearing up to plant a vegetable garden after all. As I've mentioned previously, last year started with grand hopes for my most ambitious garden yet, but ended up with dried-out seedlings, no planting, and a garden patch turned into a jungle of weeds. By fall I was so depressed by the state of things, I thought I'd never want to put on my Wellies and pick up my shovel again.

Thankfully, things change, and now I find myself waiting for what's passing for winter around here to pass so that I can start slowly, patiently digging up all those weeds, redigging the borders for my beds, and yes, try again to start my seedlings indoors under the miniature grow lights Mulch Boy got me last year.

I have actually made a start, too! Monday, for the first time in almost a year, I went to the local nursery and bought my vegetable seeds. Seeds! I'm still enough of a neophyte at planting from seed to still be astonished when the seeds actually germinate. "This will never work!" is always in the back of my mind. But surprise, surprise, it does work, and boy is it cheaper than buying all those little plants from the garden center.

How long do seeds last, though? This year I bought new packets of carrots, tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, beets, cukes, bell peppers, bush beans, and wax beans. I already had seed packets from years past for all of these, but of course the dates on the labels were long past. I decided to trash the old packets, plus any other seed packets that were more than two years old.

I did, however, keep a good bunch of "outdated" seeds I had bought in the last two years, especially a rather large collection of vegetables and flowers from Monticello, Thomas Jefferson's home. At Monticello, they not only maintain the flower and vegetable gardens, they preserve the seeds of specific varieties that Jefferson himself planted, and you can buy them!

These I cannot just toss in the trash. I believe I've read that seeds don't "expire" by the package date, but that the germination rate declines the further you get from the date. So I decided that for the must-have veg of the garden I would use new, more-guaranteed-to work seed, but that I would still try my Monticello seeds, too. Why not? If I don't get a generous crop of Texas bird peppers out of it, my heart won't be broken. But if I get even a few, I will get a huge kick out of the fact that my yard shares some of the same peppers that Jefferson grew. (What I'd really like to grow is some of John Adams' plants. Alas, the Adams National Historic Park doesn't sell seeds.)

Janis Agrees

2012-02-22T07:37:00.002-05:00

I can smell Spring just around the corner...

Mulch Boy agrees with Arlo.

The Wasteland

2012-02-16T10:59:00.000-05:00

Ten months of neglect. My poor garden.

This was not my plan. But as the narrator of “A Christmas Story” said, “Life is like that. Sometimes, at the height of our revelries, when our joy is at its zenith, when all is most right with the world, the most unthinkable disasters descend upon us.”

Luckily, we’ve not suffered unthinkable disasters, just a bunch of illnesses and family issues and basement flooding and gutted vacation and what-not that ended up taking up almost a year of our attention.

Each thing was manageable on its own. But strung together, the tedium of “if it’s not one thing, it’s another” took its toll. After a while, I just wanted to stop thinking for a month or two, hide on the sofa with my puppy dogs, eat chips and dip for dinner (no, I didn’t; Mulch Boy would never allow me), and watch endless episodes of Ultraman.

But then, out of the blue, I found myself suddenly wanting to get off that couch. I looked at my disastrous yard and instead of feeling like I never want to see it again because look what a mess I made of it, I found myself thinking, “One day, weed the small bed; next day, edge the walkway; next day, trim the hydrangeas.”

Suddenly the gardening seems doable again, enjoyable again. Remember when we moved in, when these beds didn’t even exist? And look how nice they were just this last spring! Hey, Adrian Higgins just said in the Post that it’s time to start seedlings indoors!

I just cleaned up the indoor growing setup in the basement.

I cleaned and reorganized the shed.

I bought new loppers.

I think I smell Spring in the air.

Almost Seven Months...

2012-02-16T08:29:00.000-05:00

...is a long time between posts, yes? Luckily, I am chock-full of excuses: a chemical imbalance, three upper respiratory infections, a three-month-long asthma attack, and an emergency root canal. Don't you feel sorry for me? Waah waah waaah...

Charlie did NOT eat a dead chipmunk!

2011-07-28T19:00:00.000-04:00

I repeat: no dead chipmunks were eaten by Charlie.

In this family, we take our victories where we can get them.

Welcome to the Jungle

2011-07-22T15:47:00.001-04:00

As I mentioned a few days ago, my garden is a horrible mess this summer. Under the best of circumstances, my garden lives by the philosophy of benign neglect. This is not a yard for sissies. If you need constant tending, you really don't belong here.

But this summer, benign neglect has been carried to an unreasonable extreme--so much so that "benign" hardly seems a fair word to use. In the interests of penance, I therefore share with you these pictures of the front yard. I haven't got pictures of the back to share yet. It's too painful to look at.

Somewhere in there are my shrubs.

Let's pretend the crabgrass is a border planting, yes?

The sidewalk needs a mow.

This is my DAD'S fault! There are some lovely geraniums and other
perennials in there, but they are swamped by a mind-boggling, aggressive
outbreak of black-eyes Susans. THANKS A LOT, DAD!

Although the Susans ARE pretty next to my Shasta daisies.
I forgive you, Dad.

Oh, what a world...

Thanks a lot, Midwest...

2011-07-21T05:54:00.000-04:00

...for your stinkin' heatwave! Got in the car this morning, and the local NPR station informed me that, at 5:19am, it was already 80 degrees. Loverly!

The Way We Were

2011-07-19T17:16:00.001-04:00

I was recently very upfront about what a disaster our yard and gardens are. Then I proceeded to claim I would get right on that weeding, and that of course turned out to be a lie. Then Mulch was gone for a weekend and I did all kinds of house projects and never stepped outside.

But this past Sunday, I finally got to work. But in the interest of full disclosure, I'm going to first post pictures from Spring, just to prove that I really did have things under control and even have a plan for the summer. Also, it will make the FAIL pictures to come just that much more... I don't think impressive is the right word, but you get the idea.

How lovely!

Front bed.

Azaleas. Required by law in the Washington Metropolitan area.

Charming, right?

The little rose that could. Mulch was sure this guy wouldn't survive in the
(admittedly crappy) spot I put him in.

Beautiful peonies. Came with the house.

Climbing rose in the back. Planted it three years ago;
this is the first time it's really bloomed. Most beautiful
frangrance you can imagine.

So purty.

Spring was filled with such promise.

Peppers, where are you now?

How Quickly Are Promises Broken

2011-07-07T09:42:00.000-04:00

Instantly in some cases, as it turns out. I didn't do a bit of weeding over the weekend beyond tearing out some of the tall mystery grass weeds in the front beds while walking between car and front door. Ah well. Instead, Mulch Boy and I spent a weekend mostly goofing off -- going to two movies at the theater, working our way through the Harry Potter DVDs in preparation for the final movie's premiere, lounging in the pool, visiting the bookstore, having friends over, and eating eating eating.

Mulch Boy, I believe I've mentioned, is the Family Chef, and a fantastic one. And now that's it's grilling season, he's really in his element. Sunday saw him smoking two giant slabs of beef ribs (for a visual image, imagine the brontosaurus ribs Fred orders in the closing credits of "The Flintstones"), which made a beef rib convert out of me. Monday was grilled chicky and snausage and hot dogs, last night was giant monster hamburgers. Yes, I AM a lucky woman and, yes, I'm very very aware of that!

Sadly for me, I will not be seeing much of Mulch through this weekend: he'll be working hard with his bestest friend and bidness partner at the Capital Audiofest. I will be home with the pups, and hopefully I will get a bunch of household chores and projects done to surprise him with when the Fest is over. I'm not committing to anything in writing here, though. I have a tendency to, shall we say, change my mind when it comes to these things. Not that I won't be doing SOMETHING; it just might end up being a completely different project. Queen's prerogative. Although honestly, I really ought to bathe the dogs. Sunday they thought it would be a great idea to get under the smoker to catch all those delicious beef drippings. On their heads. They smell like a barbecue pit, the two of them. It's better than dead baby bird, though, so I'm counting our blessings.

July? JULY??!

2011-07-01T13:32:00.007-04:00

The last thing I remember, it was April and it was springtime in DC and the flowers were all in bloom. And now I find it's July 1, summer has arrived along with Dead Baby Bird Season,* and my entire yard is one giant weedy disaster. What happened?
I guess May and June can be considered lost months: without going into detail, they were filled with unexpected events and challenges and traveling and trucks. But in the end, all was well, and even really good. Successful moves, happy weddings, well-deserved and long-denied raises -- these all came together to make the rest of the mess worthwhile. Except perhaps for the multiple air travel horrors. Let us not speak of them except to say Delta Airlines is made of pure evil.

So now Mulch Boy and I are back home and joining everyone else in welcoming summer. We'll begin this weekend by installing** our new pool, lying in the sun trying to give our pasty Irish and German skins a little color, smoking beef ribs in MB's new smoker, and grilling every piece of meat in the house. Those last two tasks are Mulch Boy's, as he is the chief cook in our palace. My contribution to the meal will likely be pouring beverages and toasting marshmallows.***

Although I won't be doing the cooking, I DO hope to begin getting the yard back into shape, emphasis on "begin." We have a LOT of beds, and they are hopelessly taken over by weeds. It will take a lot of digging to get them back into shape.

The worst, sadly, is the vegetable garden. Oh, the high hopes we had this spring. I had started all my lovely seedlings in my new little basement garden with the little grow lights, and it was looking like success. Alas, life intervened, and the sad little seedling are dried up and dead, never having made it into the lovingly prepared ground. The only thing we got planted were the seed potatoes, and so they and the volunteer cherry tomatoes that surprised us this spring are all we've got going this year. And they are being slowly strangled by the incredibly successful crop of weeds that have taken over.

I think that's where I'll start: the vegetable garden. I owe it to Mulch Boy. He was very disappointed about the seedlings, and that I never got seeds into the ground. Time to get out the knee pad and rescue what little veg we've got. Back to work!

*Running concurrently with early summer is Dead Baby Bird Season, when all those little fledglings leave the nest, apparently to be killed in our backyard by squirrels or cats. The garden assistants like to find their sad little corpses and roll in them. I hate Dead Baby Bird Season.

**i.e., inflating.

***Giant-sized marshmallows. They are at least twice the size of regular marshmallows. They are the best invention of the 21st century so far.

Springtime in Washington

2011-04-22T09:01:00.000-04:00

This exaggerates only a little.

A Day Late

2011-04-22T07:41:00.000-04:00

Happy Anniversary, Mulch Boy!

Belated Cherry Blossom Hilarity

2011-04-12T08:24:00.001-04:00

Richard Thompson again. Click the image to go to his blog and see more cherry blossom cartoons.

Janice at the Garden Center

2011-04-12T08:05:00.001-04:00

Bloom Day!

2011-04-11T18:13:00.000-04:00

It's been bothering me that I have this gardening blog and have barely posted a picture in months. So today, I got my little self out and took pictures. Finally, proof, I really DO have a yard!

Daffies, daffies, daffies

These tulips turn orange-pink in the middle and they smell like lemon.

First bloom on my new viburnum I planted last year.

I love hyacinth. The smell IS spring.

Lilac in bud.

Flowering quince.

These guys were a surprise! I dug them up last fall and
never got them back in the ground. They are
The Bravest Bulbs Ever.

Baby's breath? A volunteer shrub from next door that
I encouraged.

My very stingy camellia's one bloom.

Cherry blossoms on our sour cherry!

Brave, brave hellebore.

Dogwood buds.

Forky collection. Because everyone needs three.

I have a niece who is an amazing photographer.
I wish I had her talent and could better capture
how beautiful this haze of green is.

Garden assistants, i.e., why the hellebore is so brave.

Me? Stylish? Wow!

2011-04-11T14:20:00.001-04:00

I got back from my week away to find that Jim Groble awarded me a Stylish Blogger Award. Me! I feel like The Old Man in "A Christmas Story," winning a major award.

Gosh!

Apparently, there are two responsibilities that go with this honor: 1) that you share seven random things about yourself, and 2) that you nominate 15 other bloggers that you enjoy. So with great humility at being given this major award, I share:

Seven Random Things About The Potato Queen

When my cousins and I were playing "Charlie's Angels" growing up, I was usually Sabrina.
One of those cousins ("Jill") appointed me Potato Queen and gave me a crown and an apron.
I never gardened or wanted to garden until 10 years ago, and now it's one of my favorite things.
I was a thumb-sucker well into grade school.
I would eat popcorn and chocolate milk once a week for dinner if Mulch Boy would let me.
If physics and calculus were set to music, I could be a Nobel-prize winning scientist. Instead, I remember the lyrics to every top-40 song from the 70s, 80s, and 90s, plus from all my albums.
I am 45 years old and just had my very first cup of coffee this morning. Okay, it was a mocha, but it was made with espresso. Espresso is coffee. I was very very tired this morning. When I told Mulch Boy, he said "My entire world-view has just been rocked." It's okay; I'll be back to tea tomorrow.

Next post: Nominations!

I planted potatoes!

2011-04-11T13:50:00.002-04:00

Well, I am the Queen of Potatoes, after all. I meant to do last weekend, but was out of town unexpectedly all last week. Yesterday, however, I finally got my seed taters in the ground. Tonight: seeds!

This Spring's Casualties

2011-03-31T14:05:00.000-04:00

Last fall I posted about Pitiful Pearl, the little Spirea that I hoped was only MOSTLY dead but SLIGHTLY still alive.

Alas, she is all dead. Along with this pretty purple guy that I had such high hopes for:

Oh, grout it all.

Also, an ailing cottoneaster that I transplanted from front to back yard bit the dust. I didn't plant him very well. I take full responsibility.

Mulch Madness!

2011-03-31T10:15:00.000-04:00

The last two years, Mulch Boy and I have had a garden center deliver a giant pile of mulch to our driveway--eight cubic yards, to be exact. It's a lot of mulch, but we end up using it all to cover our giant beds.

This year, however, we decided to be thrifty and collect our mulch for free from the city. Good ol' Falls Church lets residents AND nonresidents gather free leaf mulch, bless their hearts. So we're planning on renting a pick-'em-up truck from the Dee-Pot and gittin' us some mulchy goodness for free. Only I just read this...

"For comparison, if you received mulch delivery in the past, each truckload held approximately 5 cubic yards. A large pickup truck will hold approximately 1.5 cubic yards of mulch."

Gulp. Does that mean we have to make seven or eight trips to get the mulch we need? I think Saturday night will be a pizza delivery night.

And now back to gardening!

2011-03-29T13:06:00.000-04:00

Yes, last weekend was very much a grouting mess, but there was also yard work, thank goodness. Weekend before last, Mulch Boy and I got out and weeded and dug up our vegetable garden patches in preparation for planning. Bonanza! In the big garden, we harvested a big pile of carrots and parsnips that overwintered there, plus a handful of potatoes from the small patch. We roasted a bunch Saturday night and they were so so good. Just makes me more anxious to get this season’s planting underway.

Alas, however, nature is messing around with us. This past Saturday, I spent several hours weeding and bagging and tying up bundles of sticks and yard waste. Then Sunday, we woke up to snow on the ground. Snow? At the end of March? In the DC metro area?!! Hmph. There went my plans to start sowing seeds outdoors. The rest of this week is ‘sposed to be cold, too, highs in the 40s. Well, I’m at least going to get my beets and kale and collards in the ground. Dang it.

My consolation: I have my little indoor growing station. Mulch Boy got me my little grow light set for Christmas, and Mulch Mom sent me all kinds of seeds and starter kits for my birthday. I’ve got mesclun, cabbage, five kinds of peppers, tomatoes, lavender, and probably some other things I’ve forgotten, sitting under the hopeful light, hopefully preparing to pop out their first little leaves. The mesclun actually germinated in 3 days(!), making everything else appear dead. But I’m starting to see several other varieties poke through the soil, so hopefully everyone will catch up to the lettuce soon.

My new curse word is “grout.”

2011-03-28T14:12:00.001-04:00

I finished grouting that last tub wall last Thursday. It was still an awful hassle, but this time I used a small rubber spatula from the kitchen instead of the grout trowel thingie, and the mess was greatly reduced. I told Mulch Boy later that, if I ever did this again, I was going to use a pastry bag to squirt the grout directly where needed. He scoffed. Then we went to the Dee-pot Saturday and guess what?

They make pastry bags for grout. Thanks for not telling me, stupid Readers Digest home repair book. Naturally I bought one on the off chance that I would ever consent to grout again. Which I actually did yesterday, finishing off a couple of seams in the tub quickly and cleanly with my grout (pastry) bag.

Then, in a fit of confidence, I decided to do the caulking as well. Turns out I had blocked out my previous experience with caulk, in which I was a very messy caulker. I remember now. Note: the instructions on caulk say to wet your finger with cold water so you can “cove” the caulk without the caulk sticking to your finger. The instructions lie.

Nonetheless, I managed to finish the caulking, and that plus the painting Mulch Boy did Saturday night left us with a spanking-new-looking tubby. It’s like a whole new bathroom, friends! Tonight, I’m cleaning up the mess our efforts created and we’re moving back in. We are a little overexcited about this, I think. Or perhaps not: it is exciting to see how your efforts can transform a space. Of course, you have to take my word for it, as once again I forgot to take before and after pictures. But the Queen of Potatoes would not lie, I promise.

THAT'S what that thing is!

2011-03-25T09:39:00.005-04:00

Well looky here: The Natural Capital just identified a weed I've got plenty of--AND it turns out to be edible. Say hi to bittercress!

Photo credit: Dandelion and Burdock

Photo credit: freethehops

Arlo and Janis in the Garden

2011-03-25T07:46:00.000-04:00

I love Jimmy Johnson's gardening-themed cartoons.

I hate grout and so should you

2011-03-23T11:11:00.001-04:00

I had a choice: go outside and start planting seeds, or stay inside and grout the bathroom tile. I chose... poorly.

See, last week I was stuck at home for a day when my car went kablooey. So I decided to start The Great Grouting Project in our upstairs bathroom. The grout and caulk was getting icky in places, so we had decided to be responsible homeowners and fix it all. Thus, last Wednesday I got out my shiny new grout scraper thingie and scraped out all the old grout, just like my Reader's Digest Home Repair box told me to. It was time consuming, but otherwise an easy job. My confidence level grew.

The caulk was not willing to go so easy into that good night, however. I had thought it would just peel right on off. I was mistaken. In fact, I gave up for the day and moved on to other things. Yesterday, however, I returned to the task after work, and between me, the utility knife, a giant screwdriver, and the paint scraper, I managed to get the old goo off. Huzzah! Another triumph of home repair.

Now the fun part (paraphrased): "Spread the grout on the tile and work it into the spaces, scraping off the excess with the grout trowel thingie, then wiping off the residue with a damp cloth." Reader's Digest even provided a photo of a big clean hand applying grout to tile, and a second photo of the same big clean hand wiping away the practically invisible residue.

Maybe I should have known better. After all, wasn't Reader's Digest famous for its condensed books series? Perhaps I should have anticipated that they might "condense" their home improvement instructions as well. In any case, Reader's Digest certainly left out some critical information in their step-by-step instructions. For instance, they failed to mention that:

Grout absolutely does NOT want to be applied to a tile wall.
Grout wants instead to drop in giant glops into the bathtub and onto your feet to escape such a fate as being applied to a tile wall.
Grout that does stick to the tile wall will resist working its way into the spaces between the tiles.
When you use your grout trowel thingie to scrape off the excess grout, grout will cling to the tile for dear life.
The "residue" that you're supposed to wipe off with a damp cloth ends up being a pretty thick layer of grout, and your damp cloth will be immediately covered in it. And still leave a substantial layer of grout behind.
Which is hardening just as fast as it can.
You better get some wet sponges fast or your tile wall is going to be permanently stuccoed.
Also, it looks like you were mixing cement in the bathtub.

Luckily for me (and unluckily for him), Mulch Boy got home just as I was ready to declare the bathroom ruined forever, and between the two of us (and several buckets of water and sacrificial sponges), we managed to get the mess cleaned up before everything really WAS ruined forever. So that's good news.

The bad news is: I have to grout that third wall in the tub tonight.

Spring Comes to Washington

2011-03-21T08:03:00.001-04:00

This is from Richard Thompson, awesome cartoonist with the Washington Post. Click the image to go to his blog, where I found this cartoon.

Five, six, pick up sticks

2011-03-03T11:43:00.000-05:00

Sunday was warm and sunny here, so when MB asked what I wanted to do, I naturally replied, "Get out in the yard." So while he spent the afternoon making gallons and gallons of gravy, I raked and played clean-up in the backyard with my two garden assistants.

We've had a lot of strong winds lately, so pick-up sticks was the first task, much to Assistant Charlie's disappointment. Then there was trimming last year's blooms off the hydrangeas and trimming the branches down to the first live leaf bud. I don't know if this is a necessary chore (anyone?), but for some reason I enjoy it. I especially love how tidy the shrubs look when I'm done, and how the new green buds, previously hidden by old dried blossoms--stand out and announce "Spring's a-coming." After that came the raking of the trimmings and of the piles of sodden leaves blown into all the corners of the yard last November, which I completely lost to bronchitis.

After three hours, I was physcially exhausted (did I mention we spent 1.5 hours at the gym before this?) but feeling so good. I continue to be astonished at how garden labors improve my mood and get me all excited to do MORE. I wisely stuck to cleanup on Sunday, but I was sorely tempted to dig up a hydrangea and a bunch of perennials and move them from back yard to front (the front needs a shrubbery, and the perennials need to escape the ravages of the garden assistants and their racing).

Home Improvements and Big Plans

2011-02-01T10:11:00.000-05:00

When I was little, I dreaded trips to Hechinger's (our then-local big box hardware store, RIP) with my dad (hi, Dad!). I have no memory of what he was shopping for all those times (gardening supplies, I guess?), just how absolutely boring it was to march up and down those giant aisles of hardware. The one thing I DO remember is how Dad would break up the monotony for me by sometimes darting quickly down aisles and pretending to hide from me, or by swinging me along as we walked.

How times change. This weekend, Mulch Boy and I visited Lowes AND Home Depot shopping for home improvement stuff (including duct tape), and MB had to drag me out of the hardware section. Just as I never thought I'd want to garden, I never dreamed I would have any interest in spending time in the hardware store, much less look forward to it. Yet there I was this weekend, getting excited about... grout. You heard me.

Mulch Boy and I have come up with A List of Things we want to get done around the house, and there are some big thangs in that list. One of them is to regrout and recaulk our bathtub. Another is to clean out our basement utility room (or, as we call it because we're such dorks, the "room of requirement"). And another is to replace the vanity and flooring in our guest bath. And we've decided we're doing it all ourselves. Gulp.

No doubt some of your are giggling at us for taking on standard home repair as though we're restoring the Roman Forum. Well, for us neophyte homeowners, it feels like that a little. (Okay, for this neophyte homeowner, anyway; Mulch Boy has more confidence in our abilties and probably isn't quiet as impressed by all this as I am.)

Anyhoodle, I got me some grout, and a grout digger-outer, and a grout spreader, and some caulk, but no cault gun because I already have two. So I am ready and eager to start fixing up my bathroom... after we finish the basement cleaning-outing. As much as I am dying to get started with my grouting (seriously), I REALLY want to get that room of requirement (ROR) cleaned up so we can actually use it as a workroom and--maybe!--set up an indoor growing station. Mulch Boy got me a super-cool mini-indoor growing station for Christmas, and I can't wait to set it up. If I get the ROR fixed up, then I can assemble my growing station and lights down there, just like my dad always did when I was growing up. See? There IS a gardening connection after all!

Gardening Show Spoof

2011-02-01T08:19:00.000-05:00

Found this while reading my morning funnies--heh!

Duct tape: it's not just for rearview mirrors anymore!

2011-01-31T14:27:00.000-05:00

(This has nothing to do with gardening--sorry!)

The post title is a little tweak at my dad (hi, Daddy!). I don't know if he remembers the time (over 30 years ago!) the driver's side rearview mirror got knocked off our car (the Vega, I think?) and he reattached it with duct tape.

Why I've remembered this all these years, I have no idea. But I was reminded of that incident recently when the antenna on my Beetle started falling apart: the rubber on the outside had split, exposing the metal inside and causing it to corrode and finally break. The rubber kept the thing together, but clearly antenna death was imminent. I unscrewed the antenna and brought it in the house for its own protection.

Luckily, because of the example of my father's engineering prowess, I knew how to save the day, and this weekend bought duct tape for the first time ever. Mulch Boy laughed at me yesterday as I wound the tape around the shattered remains of the antenna. WHATEVER, Mulch Boy!

Now my antenna is back on the Beetle, looking... if not good as new, at least not as droopy. AND my radio reception has actually improved. Thanks, Duct Tape!

Thanks, Greensparrow Gardens!

2011-01-24T13:12:00.000-05:00

I am linking to this great article on Greensparrow Gardens about starting your plants indoors and avoiding the related pitfalls. Since I got this great miniature indoor grow-light setup from Mulch Boy for Christmas, I want to make sure I've got the best info at my fingertips when I start my indoor garden, and Joseph's "Sciency Answers" definitely ranks high in my book. If I link to it hear, I won't forget about it later, and you all can benefit, too!

Progressive lenses: the funhouse you wear on your face!

2011-01-24T12:29:00.000-05:00

This weekend Mulch Boy and I got our new eyeglasses, and I may be beginning to feel my age: I now have progressive lenses on my glasses. That's the modern equivalent of bifocals, for you old cranks like me.

It's a strange world here behind the new glasses. Sure, I can see far distances and close up and everything in between now. But the world has taken on the rubbery quality of a reflection in a fun house mirror. Turn my head and my desktop warps like a vision out of the Twilight Zone (the old TV show, not the vampire-related theme restaurant that I fear will eventually be created). Sometimes it's interesting, more often it's disconcerting, but I haven't fallen over yet. And like the Irish blessing granted, the road appears to be rising to meet me at all times.

Most important, I can now read all the tiny print! No more holding seed packets and medicine bottles at arm's length and squinting. Nope, from now on I'll be... looking down my nose to find the right focus.

Bone Structure

2011-01-21T13:35:00.001-05:00

This morning we woke to a terrifying dusting of snow here in the D.C. metropolitan area. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that school openings were delayed two hours, giving how easily we panic in the Nation's Capitol over a few flakes. However, I was too preoccupied with my yard to notice the announcements (if there were any) on the radio.

Looking back, I realize I have not gotten around to describing and showing how Mulch Boy and I transformed our yards at the little blue house since we moved here. But if you look here, you can see a little of the end result of our labors. None of the beds you see were here when we moved in. We built them all from scratch, first digging out the sparse turf for the giant front yard beds with a shovel, and then continuing with the rest later with a rented manual sod cutter (which only does the job about a hundred times faster).

Now the garden is full of dead blooms and stalks, leafless shrubs and bare tree branches. Yet this morning's bare dusting of snow lent a calm beauty to those brave dried stems and drew a quiet pale outline in the borders of all the beds. Out of nowhere, I suddenly thought of Miss Trixie Delight, as portrayed by Madeline Kahn, in the movie "Paper Moon," and what wise words she might share upon viewing this sight:

You already got bone structure. When I was your age I didn't have no bone structure. Took me years to get bone structure. And don't think bone structure's not important. People didn't decide to call me "Mademoiselle" until I was seventeen and getting a little bone structure.

So glad we didn't have to wait 17 years to get our garden some bone structure.

It's the holiday season!

2010-12-22T14:06:00.000-05:00

So woop dee do and dickory dock!

FINALLY the Mulch Boy and I have completely recovered our health, after losing all of November to colds and bronchitis and Mucinex and decongestants and steroids and inhalers. Despite being in rotten condition, we did manage to drive over the river and through the woods to New England for Thanksgiving with Mulch Mom and Brother Jeep and his family. We were perhaps the most boring houseguests ever, spending almost the entire time lounging on sofas and taking drugs and eating, but WE had a great time. Alas for the garden, though: all that lovely November weather, when you normally get to put in your last bulbs, plant your new shrubs or move them around, etc. etc., was wasted on the two sickies. And now the ground is nice and frozen, so whatever will be will be, as Doris Day says.

Luckily, we have moved past our grief and sniffles and are embracing the Christmas season. I love my yard and am proud as I can be of the lovely garden we've built. But come this time of year, I am thrilled to drape my azaleas with big colored lights and populate it with my two light-up plastic snowmen. I have a friend who finds these kinds of decorations "tacky" (you know who you are!), but I fail to see it myself. Look, I agree that the all-white lights are lovely and elegant, and I honestly have nothing against them. I, however, am still drawn to the types of decorations that appeal to a six-year-old. This is probably appropriate when you consider that I can pretty much recite from heart the entire dialogue from "A Charlie Brown Christmas," "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," and "It's a Wonderful Life." Who exactly are we putting up these lights for, anyway--the adults or the little people?

Now we are about to embark on another trek, this time to brother Trebor and his family, and then to see my mommy (the Potato Queen Mother) and daddy (Daddy). To that end, we've been scrambling like maniacs to get all the gifties bought and wrapped, everything packed, routes mapped, all so we can get in the car and then... sit in DC traffic, attempting to get out of town. Cross your fingers for us that we don't get stuck in shnow.

I'm going to close this disjointed little entry and wish everyone a wonderful holiday season, whatever holiday you celebrate, even if it's none at all. See you next year!

Don't get bronchitis!

2010-11-29T08:48:00.000-05:00

If you do, you might end up missing lots of work, and getting poked with needles and IVs, and having to learn about things like nebulizers, and missing three weeks of beautiful fall gardening weather. So just don't do it, okay?

Arlo and Janis: The Gardener's Comic

2010-11-17T07:29:00.000-05:00

Have you ever read Arlo and Janis? It's one of my favorite comic strips AND Janis is a gardener. Click on the comic below to go to cartoonist Jimmy Johnson's blog.

Time for a trip to the hardware store

2010-11-12T07:37:00.000-05:00

Our backyard patio doesn't look quite as bad as the street in Amy Stewart's post on Garden Rant, but it's definitely come close. I think I'll be checking out the Depot this weekend for some concrete and mortar for my caulk gun.

Winter?

2010-11-10T09:04:00.001-05:00

I was just reading "Five Ways to Know It's Winter in Alaska" on Last Frontier Garden, where Ms. Christine posed the question, "how do you know it's winter where you live?" After gaping at her pictures, I could not but giggle at the idea of describing winter here.

Mulch Boy, a native of Massachusetts, would argue that we don't have winter here in Northern Virginia, not by his standards anyway. Last year was an exception, as we were uncharacteristically buried under feet of snow for weeks, resulting in the inevitable complete shut-down of the entire DC metro area, including the Federal government. Such events, however, are rare here, and the following are the more common signs of Winter Inside the Capital Beltway.

The parkas come out. Sure, it's only 55 degrees out, but you'd think the thermometers had dropped below zero as the natives pile on their coats and scarves and gloves against the "cold."
Schools close because of snow. To clarify, schools close not because it HAS snowed, or because a lot of snow is expected or blizzard conditions are clearly on their way. No, the fact is it MIGHT snow a quarter inch (!) (although it hasn't yet), and the closure is a preventive strike.
The supermarkets run out of bread, milk, and toilet paper. One of the first winters after I first moved back to this area, the local news teams were all reporting on a Thursday that it might--MIGHT!--snow on Saturday. Perhaps an inch. Maybe. Every channel was broadcasting that Thursday from a supermarket parking lot, filming the carnage inside the store where panicky shoppers stripped the shelves of basic necessities to prepare for the possible inch of snow on Saturday. Which never came.
Schools close because of rain. Because... honestly, I have no idea why.
Mulch Boy grills outside in his shirt sleeves and declares it's still like summer and he doesn't need a coat because in Massachusetts people would scoff--SCOFF I tell you!--if you told them this was cold. That Mulch Boy.

Career Criminal

2010-11-10T08:32:00.000-05:00

I confess: I am a repeat offender of The Rule Against Onesies.

When I first began gardening, my cousin the landscape architect (hi, cuz!) laid down the design law: don't plant single examples of plants around your garden. Instead, plant in groups for impact, and always in odd numbers to avoid things looking too regimented.

I've had this lesson reinforced to me many times over the years, and the pros definitely know. I've seen enough violations--my own and others--to deny the truth. So why do I continually break this rule, over and over and over?

Impulse buying. Those who know me well know I can spend hours at a time snooping around the garden center, my face covered in pollen as I literally stick my nose into every promising blossom. I may have come for a bag of garden soil, but I'll be leaving with a cart full of random plants that are "so pretty"! However, since I have no real plan regarding what to do with them, I've only bought one each--because who knows where I'll be able to fit them in at home?

I have learned my lesson, somewhat. Those single perennials who looked okay in my little square patch at the townhouse look like little orphans lost in the mulch in my big beds at the little blue house. To be fair, I inherited a bunch of onesies when we first moved in, so I'm not responsible for most of them . In fact, I've divided a good many of the little fellers to remedy the situation.

But then there were shrubs.

My beds are way too big to fill with just flowers. They need some anchors. They need some shrubs!

Problem is, well, the same as before: I see, I impulse-buy ("so pretty!"), I have no plan. Now I don't impulse-buy to the same degree as I used to with the perennials--after all, shrubs aren't $5 each, and I was brought up to be a thrifty girl. But even so, I've ended up with quite a few singletons when it comes to my shrubs: nandina, mahonia, St. John's wort, beauty berrry, forsythia, broom, abelia, virburnum, boxwood... And just a month or two ago, a Mugo pine, a goldthread cypress, a bluestar juniper, and a... a... another thing that was 100% impulse buy and I have no idea what it's called (but it's PRETTY!). Oh, and that other one that was reddish and droopy; what was its name? (Also SO pretty!)

Right now my yard probably sounds pretty crazy-looking, but I swear, somehow it works.

Oddly, I HATE to vacuum in the house...

2010-10-26T10:29:00.002-04:00

Normally, I'm not a big fan of power-driven gardening tools. I don't think there's anything wrong with them per se; it's just that I get a peculiar enjoyment of doing things with my own two hands, even if that turns out to be the hard way. I also like the quiet of using my hand tools. Plus my little garden is just that: little, so the need is really not there. It's true the lawn is large, but I'm afraid of our gas-powered mower, and to Mulch Boy's amusement I bought myself a little rotary mower this year, which I happily push around the yard when Mulch Boy doesn't mow it fast enough to suit The Queen. It makes this great little "whiiiiirrrrrr" noise that I love. AND the doggies are not afraid of the rotary mower, so we can all be together while I mow. Good times!

There are, however, exceptions to every rule, and my exception is my fabulous new electric leaf blower/vaccuum/mulcher. Oh how I love it! It is my new best friend. Mulch Boy even named it: Sookie. (Pronounce that "Suckie.") (Yes, we are addicted to True Blood.)

Thanks to Sookie, this weekend we vacuumed up and mulched all the leaves in the front yard and filled up our both our compost heaps with nice shredded leaves. No more endless raking piles to the street for the county to pick up. Instead, we're recycling it all on our own property. And of course there's more to come, as Fall has really just started here in NoVa.

I don’t want to come off as a shill for the maker by trumpeting their name (what are the ethics for that on a blog?). But if you want to know the brand/make, shoot me an email or comment and I’ll share. It really is a good tool and works great. Or just do what I do and go to Consumer Reports and live your life according to their reviews and recommendations. I’m sort of a slave to Consumer Reports. A dork slave.

10 Things I Enjoy

2010-10-18T14:11:00.001-04:00

I just found the Garden Musings blog of James Roush in Kansas and have started following him. His reflections on his gardening, Kansas, and life in general are nice stuff, and he has some lovely lovely roses, of which I am now jealous.

In September, James proposed a garden game in which he invited ten of his favorite bloggers to share ten things they enjoy doing (he in turn received this request from the blogger at Onenezz, who was invited by someone else in what appears to be, as James called it, a blogger Ponzi scheme). Well, I've not been personally invited and they were doing this a month ago, but it sounds like fun and I'm gonna give it a whirl anyway.

Ten Things I Enjoy Doing (Garden Edition)

Renew the garden. Come Fall, my yard has usually become a weedy mess due to neglect during the hot summer months here in the DC area. When the temperatures finally become bearable, I'm rarin' to dig out all those weeds, move/divide/replant the overgrown perennials, and plunk in some new pretties. The work is hard, but so so gratifying..
Taking a shower after renewing the garden. You're exhausted, you're coated with soil, and you're speckled with mosquito bites. The shower you take now will be more satisfying than any other. Then you can put on your pajamas and sack out on the sofa with your puppy dogs and your husband.
Sacking out on the sofa with my puppy dogs and my husband. Especially when worn out from gardening. There's nothing snugglier than the entire family pack smooshing together.
Watching seeds sprout. I've only been growing vegetables from seed for two years, so there's still a large part of me that thinks "this will never work." Thus I'm astounded and thrilled when it does.
Picking food from my very own garden. Much as I'm amazed that seeds I planted actually sprouted into plants, I'm equally excited when I can go out and actually fill a colander full of vegetables from our own little garden patch. There's dinner!
Composting. My good friend and I went to a free composting class given by Falls Church City, where the wonderful instructors assured us that compost is not rocket science, and if you're in no hurry, you can just make a nice pile of leaves and wait a year and voila! Compost!. So I went home and started a little compost pile. Soon, Mulch Boy got into the game and created a second, double-wide compost heap behind our shed. And it really does work, and now we don't have to rake all those leave to the street.
Collecting rocks. I have a rock fetish. I'm not sure when or why it started, but I love rocks in the garden. Some I've collected from the side of the road on the interstate (those Falling Rocks the signs tell you to be cautious of), some I've collected from friends' and family's homes (and which moved with me from my old townhouse to the little blue house), and some I've bought from the quarry down the road. Yes, although I am in the DC metropolitan area, there is literally a quarry up the street from me that sells all kinds of rocks, including beautiful boulders! My first birthday after getting married, I told Mulch Boy I wanted rocks for my birthday, and he knew I didn't mean from the jewelry store.
Collecting plants. I also have plants that have come from friends and family, mostly from my dad. I am very sentimental, so they are extra special to me. When I moved to the little blue house, it was February and the ground snow-covered, and so many such plants got left behind. I still fantasize about going back to my old townhouse under cover of darkness to recover some of my old buddies.
Digging. There is nothing like digging to work out your frustrations. Especially with a hand trowel. Using a stabbing motion. Stab stab stab. Also, that business about digging deep in your vegetable garden? They are not lying: it makes all the difference.
Enjoying the fruits of my labor. After I finish a project in the garden (like, for instance, the Fall renewal), I find myself darting outside over and over again (sometimes in my jammies) to glory in the results. Then I take pictures and send them to my daddy.

If you're willing, I hope you'll share ten things you like to do in the comments or by linking to your blog in the comments.

At least I'm not the only one

2010-10-04T14:27:00.001-04:00

Oh my, is this not exactly what I just did in my front yard?

How to Design a Garden, According to Greensparrow Gardens

Pitiful Pearl

2010-09-28T21:30:00.001-04:00

I mentioned in my last post that my new little red shrubby replaced a spirea that I probably killed. This spirea:

"What did I do to deserve this?"

In this picture, you see where I have transplanted my apparently dead little shrub. But maybe it's only mostly dead, which would make it slightly alive! This probably unreasonable optimism has led me to giving it a second chance in a sunnier location, hoping that next spring will see it leafing out anew.

Is this as pointless as appears? Anyone know?

And then I did THIS!

2010-09-28T19:29:00.001-04:00

So after I did all that cleanup in the front yard, I found myself at the garden center. Of course. I had a plan for a change: to buy three different evergreens to plant together in the bed by the street. Naturally, I ended up buying those three, plus two other shrubs, three extra junipers, and three perennials. You'd be surprised what you can fit in a Volkswagen Beetle.

Upon arriving home, I realized that I would have to do some major renovation in order to make space for all my new pals. In short, all the circled plants would either have to move or go.

Two of the first things I planted at the Little Blue House were these purple
coneflowers and these Shasta daisies. They've gone from two little
singletons to taking over the bed. They had to move.

Last year I thought I was a genius for moving and dividing a bunch of lilies and
yarrow. The bed filled out, yes, but it turned into a real mish-mash, with
everything pretty much overwhelmed by yarrow. Note to all: never pay money
for yarrow. Come to my house and take some of mine.

So I got out my gloves and Forky and my little trowel, and I dug up all those guys. I confess: some paid with their lives to make my little landscape plan a reality. But I did manage to give away a bunch of lilies and yarrow and even a few peonies. I hate to throw out healthy plants, even if they are taking over the garden.

Then, it was time for the new guys to go in. And after nine hours of digging and planting and transplanting over two days, I ended up with this.

Closeup of new clematis: white, fragrant, and fall-blooming.

Daisies and coneflowers out, tickseed, stonecrop, and clematis in!

New barberry and relocated coneflowers and daisies.

The little red shrubby in the middle is new, replacing a spirea that is
most likely dead. In the background, three new junipers, two still waiting to go in the ground.

So many lilies, I had to relocate some way on the other side of the yard.

Lilies consolidated, yarrow moved and, um, reduced, and new plants!

The original plan was just this: the mugo pine, the goldenthread cypress, and the
juniper. I am so excited that I actually managed to follow through.

I am so happy with how this turned out. How much better will it look with mulch!

"In gratitude for your hard work, we have decided to bloom again!"

Proof of labor. Does everyone else end up this dirty?

Who are you?

2010-09-26T13:09:00.000-04:00

During the killing spree, I came across a handful of little plants that I did not plant, but that I couldn't quite bring myself to tear out because I like them. Anyone out there know what these guys are, and whether I'm safe letting them take up permanent residence in my yard?

The little lanterns make it look like a volunteer tomatillo. What is it?

I love the leaves on this. Never saw whether it bloomed.

This had, I believe, tiny little bell-like flowers.

Bloom Day Followup

2010-09-26T13:02:00.001-04:00

When I posted for my first Bloom Day, I only posted pictures from the front yard, because... that's where I was working. This was unfair to the backyard. In the interest of equality, I am therefore posting these pictures of my backyard blooms.

Beauty berry: okay, it's not a bloom, but it's so pretty!

Butterfly bush and charging turtle.

Last gasp of the hydrangeas, beautiful even when spent.

Knockout rose, soldiering on.

September Cleanup: After!

2010-09-26T12:51:00.001-04:00

And now, how the front yard looked after the killing spree.

Is this the same yard? BTW, anyone know why the sweet
woodruff would die out in the middle of the patch like that?

I know it's better this way, but I do miss the spurge.

"We can breath again!"

I guess I taught those black-eyed Susans a lesson.

What a difference a day makes.

September Cleanup: Before

2010-09-26T12:44:00.002-04:00

A while back, I posted about my amazing killing spree, where I ended up with a pile of weeds in the road the size of a coffin. Now that I finally got my photos on the computer, I thought I'd share the before and after of this endeavor. First: Before.

Oh, spurge. Is it wrong that I kind of like you,
even though you are a weed?

Flamingo with propellers is Sneezy.

Not much to be pround of here. But how about that Airstream?

Wow. I should be ashamed. And I am!

Look, black-eyed Susans, you do not own the world.

This was beautiful once, I swear.

My First Garden Blogger's Bloom Day

2010-09-14T13:12:00.002-04:00

It's my first Garden Blogger's Bloom Day! My blooms may not be too impressive, but I'm still happy to have them.

Black-eyed Susans

See that tall thing on the right? What is that thing? I kinda like it.

Geranium on its last legs. After 4 years in the front yard, it finally
took off this year and made me proud.

Thanks for the second bloom, sedum.

Pop Quiz: How can you tell it's been too long since you last weeded?

2010-09-13T15:22:00.000-04:00

If your pile of weeds is this big, consider yourself tipped off.

Oops.

Weekend Killing Spree

2010-09-13T11:44:00.001-04:00

Saturday, spent five hours on my hands in knees in the dirt, weeding the front beds. Felt GREAT. Looks GREAT. Photos to come.

I'm on Garden Rant!

2010-09-12T15:19:00.000-04:00

I'm so excited! My rant was finally published today! Click here to read it. And thank you, Garden Rant, for publishing it.

Garden Blogging Galore

2010-09-09T09:31:00.000-04:00

Thanks to Susan in the Pink Hat, I've just found this resource at May Dreams Gardens, where Carol provides all kinds of advice on how to meet and mingle with this online gardening community. Thanks, Susan, and Hi, Carol!

High of 83?

2010-09-09T09:17:00.000-04:00

That's what the weather forecast is for this weekend here in the DC metro area. If you live here, you know how astonishing and wonderful that is, as you have to be prepared for brutal summer heat and humidity to persist into October around here.

Sounds like the perfect weekend to get outside and reclaim my garden. If you've been following along here, you may have noticed that I appear to have been living in the past, relating my garden experiences of several years ago. That's because it's been a crazy summer at the little blue house, and sadly the yard has fallen victim to many other distractions.

But that is going to change this weekend. There will be weeding. There will be reorganizing. There may be... a trip to the garden center! I guess I need to dig out The Gardening Jeans and find my leather gloves. And then I will post pictures of what Potato Queen and Mulch Boy's yard is now.

Note to self: trim off all fingernails before I break them off clawing up dirt with my bare hands.

Help! When and what is Garden Blogger's Bloom Day?

2010-09-08T13:51:00.002-04:00

I've figured out that it's a day when garden bloggers post pictures of blooms from their gardens. But when? How frequently?

Susan Harris on Sedum

2010-09-07T14:37:00.003-04:00

I love me some Garden Rant, and Rant regular Susan Harris lives locally in the DC area. I actually hired her as a garden coach last Spring, and she was funny, informative, and just a really neat lady, the kind you want to be your new best friend. If you're in the DC area and need some garden coaching, I highly recommend consulting her.

Susan also has her own blog, Sustainable and Urban Gardening, and she's added this great entry on creeping sedums. She also has a second article that goes into more detail about creeping sedums--the different kinds, how to make them happy, and the best choices for your little patch of ground.

I love sedums and have even before I started gardening. Before I knew what a succulent was, I was fascinated by Hens and Chicks and their thick, springy leaves. Once I started digging in the dirt and visiting the garden center, I fell in love with all the varieties I saw. In our front yard, I have (I think) four different kinds sharing a bed with black-eyed Susans (from Dad), Shasta daisies, purple coneflowers, zebra grass, and a flowering quince. It's getting a little crowded, though, and my little succulents are getting overshadowed. This Fall I think I'll be relocating a bunch of things so that everyone gets their fare share of attention. And find some new creeping sedums to add to the mix.

Killing, Part 3: This Time, It's Unintentional

2010-09-07T14:02:00.000-04:00

What is that quote from A Christmas Story? "Life is like that. Sometimes, at the height of our revelries, when our joy is at its zenith, when all is most right with the world, the most unthinkable disasters decend upon us."

So while my previous post about my successful garden transformation--in one year!--was truthful, I cannot hide the other, uglier truth. Which is that a lot of those beautiful plants fell victim to my inexperience.

I'M SORRY!

Undeterred, however, I replaced the dearly departed with new little friends and hoped for the best. Wonder of wonders: the more I planted, the better my survival rate became. And so by my final spring in my townhouse (2006), things looked like this--and all these guys were survivors.

Saaaay...

Garden assistant posing behind the crape myrtle.

Wildlife!

This also marks the beginning of my rock fetish.

How about that little brick border?

Dad's peonies!

In fact, I became so successful that I ran out of room and was forced to branch out into the median to fuel my new gardening obession.

Fancy!

The best thing? My neighbor gave me the irises, my parents' neighbor gave me the day lilies, my friend Vera gave me sedum acre from her yard, the grape hyacinths were volunteers, my dad gave me black-eyed Susans, and I recycled all the bricks from my yard (a bunch of them were actually buried in the yard).

Follow me?

2010-09-02T08:50:00.000-04:00

If you'd like to follow my blog AND boost my ego, please click the Follow button in the right column. The more followers I get, the more popular I'll look, and maybe they'll let me write more on GardenRant! (Okay, maybe not, but a girl can dream. Still waiting for my guest rant to be published--maybe tomorrow??)

A New Beginning

2010-09-01T13:34:00.001-04:00

The continuing story of my first gardening experiences, way back in 2001 - 2003, as described in Killing, Part 1, and Killing, Part 2.

Having successfully eradicated nearly all signs of life from my overgrown yard, I now faced a new and no less intimidating task: what to do with the blank moonscape I now faced. You will recall it looked like this:

"Houston, we have a problem."

Did I have what it takes to bring life back to my now lifeless landscape? Somehow buoyed by my successful killing spree, I thought, sure! But how to start?

Luckily, my principle gardening mentor (Dad) answered that question for me the first time my parents came to visit my new little home. Among the many housewarming goodies, Dad had brought a big bag of plants for my very first garden.

To be perfectly accurate, he brought me bulbs and roots. Little sacks of crocus bulbs and jonquil bulbs. Best of all, a big bag of dirty knobs and roots: these were black-eyed Susans and beautiful white peonies, dug up from their yard.

So that fall of 2001, I planted my first bulbs and roots in the blank canvas of my yard. And the next spring...

My very first flowers

To passersby, this was simply a hardscrabble, dust bowl landscape in miniature. To me, it was my first garden miracle--and the encouragement I needed to attempt to fill the rest of those dusty blank spaces. Between that Spring of 2002 and the Spring of 2003, I enthusiastically learned the joys of the garden center, of impulse plant shopping, and of mulch. And within the space of that one year, the front yard went from the dust bowl above to this:

Fancy!

Clearly there was no rhyme or reason to my planting choices. My "plan" was "put things in the ground and hope they live." And surprise, many did!

Did it look crazy to others? I honestly don't know. To me, it still looks beautiful, and I still feel proud looking at this picture. I will not lie: not everyone shown here survived. (The ones in the clay pots almost certainly all perished; I am not good with potted plants.) But a good many DID survive, despite my lack of skill and haphazard care. That was enough to give me the confidence to keep trying.

Lesson learned: don't let lack of experience or knowledge or even initial failures prevent you from soldiering on and trying again. This former black thumb is proof that persistence pays off.

I'm gonna be a guest ranter!

2010-08-30T13:29:00.000-04:00

This week is guest ranter week at Garden Rant. AND... I am excited to have been selected as one of those ranters! Don't know which day mine will appear, but I will post when I know.

Morning Glory, Why Are You Such a Jerk?

2010-08-21T18:27:00.001-04:00

In my old neighborhood, I used to walk my doggie past a lovely old white farmhouse, whose white picket fence supported beautiful morning glories all through the summer. What lovely old-fashioned flowers, I thought each time I passed. In the back of my mind, I added morning glory to the list of flowers I'd like in my own yard someday.

Fast-forward to now. I've changed my mind. Be careful what you wish for.

Hey!

MORNING GLORY! What are you doing? Where did you come from? And why are you trying to smother all the shrubs and flowers? Leave my yellow rose alone!

This is our fourth summer here in our little blue house, but this little minx only showed up for the first time last summer. No, I did not plant it. It appears to originate from the other side of the chainlink fence that divides our front yard from our neighbor's driveway. Not satisfied to occupy the inch of ground between the fence and the blacktop on its own property, it has decided to invade my beds and entangle itself in every other growing thing. It's certainly taken advantage of the fact that I haven't had time to give proper attention to the yard this summer.

Alas for the morning glory, its reign of terror is now being brought to an end.

Who's sorry now, Morning Glory?

Bitey!

2010-08-18T14:23:00.000-04:00

Through my entire life, my dad (my gardening icon) has had a wall of pegboard in the basement or the garage, and on it invariably hang any number of these:

Look out! They're hungry!

Each of these tools, I learned from Dad, is a bitey. Whenever I would venture near him when he was gardening, I inevitably ended up being terrorized by Bitey, who threatened to... well, bite me.

Forty-four years later, I have just recently learned that these are bypass pruners. I like "bitey" better.

My bitey. Its name is Bitey.

Killing, Part 2

2010-08-18T12:28:00.003-04:00

I feel it is important to note that, back in 2001 as a new first-time homeowner, I had never ever ever gardened in my life. At all. Nor wanted to. I'd never even mowed a lawn! Now I found myself with a front and back yard all my own, both overgrown with weeds and vines, and no one but me to make it better.

I decided that the only way to proceed was with a clean slate. And so my intro into gardening consisted of a task that even the worst gardener can be successful at.

KILLING!

I began with the front yard, which was overrun with English ivy and threatening the happiness and well-being of a beautiful crape myrtle, my one tree in the front. Inexperienced as I was, I had heard stories of this invasive beastie vine, and they included the advice that the only real way to eradicate it was by hand. One trip to Home Depot later, I was armed with this formidable weapon and so set myself to my task:

And after a week or so of after-work labor in the autumn sun, I had reached my goal: complete extermination of the ivy and sweet sweet freedom for the crape myrtle. I swear I could hear Myrtle taking deep breaths and whispering "thank you" when I was done. Sure, my little square of front yard was now a grey dusty patch of moonscape (seen below the next spring, when the crocuses I buried in November began to come to life). But it was MY grey dusty patch of moonscape.

Delightful!

.

But the real challenge lay ahead, in the backyard:

This was before it got ugly.

This was no little 15-ft square. This lovely lawn stretched about 50 feet back from the townhouse. The picture above was taken on move-in day in July. By November, when my killing spree began, the weeds and vines created a 2-ft high jungle all the way across the yard. My task: kill it all, bag it up, and let the county cart it away. Extra challenge: with neighbors on both sides, I had no direct access to the back except through my house. Thus, all yard trash would either have to be dragging through my basement, upstairs and through the kitchen, and out the front door, OR (as I ended up doing) physically heaving each full bag over my (very understanding) neighbor's chain link fence, clambering over the fence myself, and then dragging each bag up the hill over my neighbor's uneven, homemade steps, through his front yard, and to the street.

And so once again, armed with my weapon of choice...

...I waged war upon my enemies. Day after day, until it was too dark to see, all week long and through a long weekend, a woman possessed. Long were my labors, stiff were my knees, filthy were my fingernails. But at long last, the goal was reached, and there was this:

Another moonscape!

Well, I didn't say it was pretty. What a lot of ugly fences, huh? But who would have guessed the yard was so big? And if this isn't a clean slate, I really don't know what is. But now, what to do with that blank canvas? If only I could tell you that the killing was over. Sigh.

Killing, Part 1: How My Gardening Odyssey Began

2010-08-13T13:08:00.013-04:00

In 2001, the Queen of Potatoes was a single gal deciding to buy her first home all on her very own. One very important criterion: I wanted a yard, but I emphatically did not want responsibility for a yard. I had never gardened, didn't want to garden. Thus, my hope was to find a sweet little townhouse with a nice little homeowners' association whose dues paid for upkeep of all the grounds. How perfect it would be!

Not surprisingly, things did not evolve as I had hoped, but ultimately they evolved for the better. After spending Sunday after Sunday touring open houses, I found myself in love with a 50-year-old townhouse in a 50-year-old community, with no association or neighborhood rules. One mortgage later, it was mine!

Happily ensconced in my new home, here is what this non-gardener faced for front and back yards:

For someone who had never gardened and never wanted to, I was suddenly faced with quite the challenge. What to do, what to do? The easiest solution, of course, would have been to do nothing and just let the jungle be. But pride of ownership would simply not allow this. No, if nothing else, the mess would have to go. And so without any clear idea of what I would do to replace it, I set out to kill the weed and vine jungle. By hand.

But why isn't basil as invasive as spearmint? Cuz I'd be okay with that.

2010-08-12T09:58:00.001-04:00

Barbara Damrosch lives (I think) in Maine, but submits regular articles to The Washington Post's much-shrunk Home and Garden section. This week, she has an interesting little column about the mint family.

I did not know that all my favorite herbs are relatives. (Although I can believe it with my unstopable oregano. Are you trying to grow herbs for the first time? Try mint or oregano.) But then why does my basil not come back year after year and spread determinedly around the garden like my spearmint? C'mon, basil, step up!

Heritage Harvest Festival

2010-08-04T13:11:00.004-04:00

Now this looks like fun, AND it's at Monticello, so win-win!

Susan Harris comes to the rescue!

2010-08-04T11:22:00.004-04:00

I just found her article on Sustainable and Urban Gardening that identifies common weeds (well, common for our DC metro area). So that succulent little thing is purslane. Now, how do I know when to pick it and how do I cook it up?

Our Vegetable Garden, Part 2

2010-08-04T07:43:00.009-04:00

Was Year 2 in the vegetable garden more successful? Oh my, yes. Friends, it can be done!

Yeah, we're good.

Big advantage: Mulch Boy joined the good fight, channeling his grandfather, who maintained a giant kitchen garden for years and years. Year 1 revealed that the bed on the side of the house was THE ideal spot. MB not only re-forked the existing beds down to 18" (!), he expanded the ideal spot to three times its original size. And big strong man that he is, he did this all in a matter of hours over a weekend, as opposed to my week-long struggle of the year before.

The other big innovation: planting almost everything from seed! Guess what's way cheaper than plants. Seeds! At less than $2 a packet, seeds allowed us to be really ambitious and try growing a bunch of stuff for cheap. And at less than $2 a packet, any failures would be a lot less painful. Especially since I harbored a deep-down scepticism about seeds really working. Yes, I know it's ridiculous, but I really couldn't believe I could make it work. It seemed way too easy: put little seeds in ground, cover up with a little dirt, add water, enjoy vegetables. But my dad (gardener extraordinaire) swore to me that the plants you grow from seed would be stronger and healthier than the ones you bought elsewhere and that had to suffer from the stress of transplanting.

Let the picture above speak for itself. We had the craziest, most fabulous garden ever, much to our surprise and delight. Oh sure, there were failures (the peppers died from bad placement, the lettuce and spinach went to seed almost immediately, and I remain The Girl Who Could Not Grow Zucchini). But we had tons of tomatoes, bush beans, carrots, beets, and potatoes. Yes, potatoes, people! The surprise crop started from seed potatoes from the garden center. We ate taters for months and they were amazing. The green beans produces for months, too, and the carrots actually overwintered in the garden, and we were able to dig out a bunch this spring. Really!

The highs we've got from this experience: watching those little plants pop through the ground and actually grow and knowing "we did this." And oh, walking out to your own little patch to dig up or pick your own so-tasty produce for dinner? Just amazingly satisfying.

I know the experienced gardeners may be rolling their eyes at our exciting "discoveries." But these two inexperienced farmers are really excited at our success, and having a terrific time.

Who We Are: Our Vegetable Garden, Part 1

2010-08-04T07:08:00.012-04:00

We are (very) amateur vegetable gardeners. I've been trying to grow food in a very limited way for about 8 years, usually buying a tomato plant or two from the garden center, digging a hole and plunking them in the hard clay-y ground, and ending up with one tomato to show for it.

Help us!

Two years ago I decided to get ambitious and build a big ol' garden the right way to see if it really would make a difference. People have successfully grown food for thousands of years--have they all been smarter than me? Surely not! But since winging it on my own wasn't buying me any success, and as one of the few people who actually reads instruction manuals, I turned to the written word for help. My main guide: The Vegetable Gardener's Bible.

Step 1: Locate your beds in a sunny location. Our first challenge: our little north-facing house is surrounded by beautiful 100-ft trees. The sun comes and goes all day, and finding a location that gets enough sunshine throughout the day is a challenge. I chose three spots that seemed good candidates: one against the back porch (c. 3' x 8'), one against the privancy fence in the back yard on the east side of the yard (c. 3' x 6'), and one on the west side of the house in front, where our next-door neighbor said the sun shines most of the day (c. 4' x 6').

Step 2: Dig your beds deep. So I took forky (my gardening fork) and laboriously broke up and turned the earth in my three beds to a depth of about 12"--no small task for a 42-yo, out-of-shape weakling. I think it took me about a week to complete the job, racing home from work each day, putting on my grubbies, and sweating furiously in the delightful Northern Virginia heat and humidity.

So was it worth it? I will reveal myself to be a giant dork when I say that the first time I planted in one of those beds, it was an amazing experience. No hacking away at the clay to build a hole big enough for my little plants or the onion sets. (This was also the first year I dared to attempt to grow from seed. I decided on pole beans, peas, and scallions.) Instead, I could literally scoop the soil out by hand and gently put the little guys in the ground. So soft! So airy! It was amazing! I was sold, even before anything actually grew. So note to all those who wonder whether all that digging effort is worth the effort. In a word, YES.

Did we end up with a wonderfully successful garden that year? Um... no. But it was partially successful, and that was enough to inspire me to try again next year. We had lots of onions, which we mostly ate immmature as scallions--delicious grilled!--but they never seemed to mature well beyond that. We got a bean or two and no peas, but those plants (from seed!) got clobbered by torrential spring rains and I blamed nature on the failure. (Thanks a lot, nature.) The tomatoes tanked again, and I somehow continued to be the one human being on the planet incapable of successfully growing zucchini (zucchini!). But we DID have a successful cucumber crop and made lots of pickles. And that was enough to spur my ambition for year 2., when Mulch Boy joined the good fight.

Sour Grapes... Well, Cherries

2010-08-03T15:32:00.002-04:00

We have two sour cherry trees in our yard--a great surprise to us our first summer in our little house. After three years, we've still never managed to be ready with a plan when they ripen. Next year, I'm going to have to go visit the Laughing Duck Gardens blog for idears.

What kind of garden is this?

2010-07-12T14:49:00.000-04:00

That background picture ain't it. But we got vegetables and flowers and dogs, and we loves to play with them all.