Front Garden Bed: In Progress

Of course, the plants I ordered arrived in the middle of a days-long spell of rain.  The weather broke for two days, and then the rain was supposed to come back for more.  (*it never showed up, figures)

So, believing that we had no time to spare, out to the front yard we went.  

 We'd already planted the existing (freshly-jackhammered) front bed.  It was a bit easier and less time consuming in that we didn't have to tear up any sod.  But it had been complicated in that the hostas and whatnot that were there had to be moved to the back.  

A week or so after planting.  Before the slugs set in :(

I'd envisioned a line of plants skirting the foundation, and so we had to tear up the existing sod and move it to lay the flower bed.  See the bald spots?  Those are where once the tree roots were, before D dug them up and removed them.  

 

Here are bits that we removed by shovel, before I inevitably hurt my back and D had to take over.  

(the yellow line is a tape measure)

In the process, we unearthed a bit of tree or something.  Here it is, rising up out of the earth like the creature in the movie Tremors.  

"we should call em 'Graboids.' "

 D had to take the axe to it.  Once that was out, we mixed the existing soil with peat and potting soil (they were out of planting soil, oddly enough), aerating it.  

We placed the bits of sod in the back were we have some mysteriously bald earth to cover.  

Maybe it'll thrive here, maybe not.  But no harm done.  

 While we're in the backyard, here are the hostas we moved from the front bed.  They are, incidentally, much healthier than anything we've planted.  I frown at this statement, but its true.

On the top left corner is an astilbe I bought at a church sale last year.  

On the left are two spikey things we also transplanted from the front.  They're healthy too.  Some semper vivum or something?  

Name that plant!

 And now, back to the front.  You can see in the pot on the corner of the concrete porch there.  In there are lilies and an iris that we were given for free at a library book sale in Circleville three years ago.  

 The ladies that ran the sale were desperate to find homes for a bunch of orphaned plants.  If we didn't take them, they said, they'd have to throw them away.  So, because I'm a sucker for a leafy sob story, I took them.  They survived un-planted on an apartment balcony that got about two hours of sun per day.  True, the iris has never bloomed.  But the lilies did, in the plastic planter pack.  And now look at them.  They are the healthiest things out there. 

Well, everyone likes the underdog, don't they?

 And while we're distracted from the work that was going on, I heard a curious rustling in the maple tree behind me. I looked over and saw some of the branches were shaking and quivering.  I watched as a baby robin slowly plopped out of the tree and onto the ground.  Right next to the space where Bobby was chained.

It flopped like a landed fish and I pointed my finger with urgency and got D's attention first with wordless panicked noises, and then I managed, "Baby bird!  Baby bird by Bobby!"  Somehow, our brilliant boy missed the whole thing, from the thud to the flopping, even though it was quite literally right next to him.  D got the dog's attention, and while we held the dog back baby bird proceeded to hop and bounce awkwardly right into the street.  Mama bird screamed avian obscenities at us.  Eventually baby bird hopped under my car in the driveway and the dog was taken inside, and we got back to work.

We don't know if it figured out the whole flight thing, because we never saw it again.  

There were leftover border stones in the garage, that the previous owners didn't use.  Not enough to stretch the length of the front of the house, but close enough that we only have to buy two or three more bricks.  Then, finally, we were able to plant.  To be continued.  

What Groundhog?

Once the rain abates, D and I have to immediately drop what we're doing and get outside.  Now that we have a yard, there's a big old list of things that seem to require our attention outside right this minute.  And somethings call for that attention more urgently than others. 

"toy?"

Yeah.  Last year our yard was plagued by a visitor that tore up a healthy tomato plant in two visits.  He was living under the deck, we think.  

That's right, Bobby, you've got him cornered

 So the day we heard from our neighbors that a groundhog had been sighted in our yard, D brought out last year's cage and put a tomato in it.  

The very next day, 

the sent of this ugly fella fairly drove the dog mad.  He wanted so fiercely to play with this thing.  

Not real bright, our Bobby.

The neighbor asked, "did you take it to a park and let it go or something?"  

"Ah... something."  D replied.  

Cincy Chainsaw Massacre

D had developed himself a taste for wielding chainsaws.  Now it is true that D hated this tree and this shrub, and has said so ever since we bought the house.  It is also true that D didn't hate them nearly as much as our neighbors did.  But I think that he also just really wanted to swing a chainsaw again.  

Honeysuckle had nearly taken over a tree and a shrub in the backyard.  These photos don't do justice to the foofy mess it was.  In fact the first photo is one I took only after D began slicing messy bits off with a borrowed chainsaw (thanks dad).  And I can't find a before photo of the shrub at all.  But you can get an idea for the giant mess it creates to fell a tree in your backyard.   

*photo quality isn't great.  this was at dusk and the light changed constantly.  

I am continuously carrying away branches at this point

Piles of branches like this

Which we dragged over to the side of the yard into a pile so high the neighbor's garage has almost vanished.

he's lovin it

I'm a lumberjack!

Under all that honeysuckle there was a tree that I misidentified.  I had remembered the elder neighbor talking about how this yard had had an olive tree in it.  Well, the leaves are so obviously different that we knew right away that this was not the same tree.  We used a website to help identify the leaves by their shape and variegation and whatnot, and discovered that we have ourselves a mulberry tree.  

The mulberry tree that remains

It leans quite a bit.  We're not sure if this tree can survive either.  But we'll wait and see. 

And there was a shrub here that was so big, that it blocked the view of the neighbor's house almost entirely. But in a Wild Kingdom overgrown sort of way.  I don't mind the screening effects of plants.  In fact, even though the yard does look more tidy, if I'm perfectly honest,  I miss it a bit.  I feel ... exposed.  

ehhh....

We always had to get rid of it because the plan was to plant a vegetable garden.  But still... we look out of our back windows and see neighbors.  

Before

ehhh...

Mystery Shrub, and a New Friend

I was away on business for 8 grueling days.  People were razzin' me about being in Orlando on "business (wink wink)," but the reality of it was a windowless, overly-air conditioned convention center.  It was so cold, I hoped to have time to go buy a long sleeved shirt or sweater, but never got the chance.  My coworkers and I joked about escaping to Sea World but, alas, it was not to be.  

In my absence D went to work on a problem that needed remedy.  Before we bought the house, the front flower bed used to be a waist-high concrete planter.  The previous owners knocked down the concrete walls above the grass line, but left the concrete in the ground.  This is the reason for the submerged concrete I found when I was trying to check on the health of the sparse and plants.  The submerged concrete, covered in a thin layer of dirt and mulch, left barely any room for our incoming garden plants.

Our garden plants arrive from Bluestone Perennials this month (* not a paid spokesperson).  I'm so excited.  First house, first garden.  And I love flowers.  I may have gone a bit overboard.  Not on purpose, of course.  I think I just over-guesstimated the size of the swath of front yard I planned to use.  I think it'll all work out though.  I mean, hey are all perennials, and supposedly quite hardy and sturdy, and beginner-proof, but let's be honest.  This soon-to-be-garden will probably experience an epic die-off event.  Volcano.  Comet.  Ice Age.  Groundhogs.  Something.

We had some significant prep work.  One of those tasks was to rip up no less than 3 mini-tree roots from the front yard.  I say "we" but I mean "D."  He worked himself into an angry sweaty mess, but his wrath was well-spent.  Those tree roots are gone.  Oh shoot, we still haven't tilled that space.  Argh.  Memo To Self:  remove sod. That took a few days, because we don't own a reciprocating saw.

But that's not all.

Imagine being out of town and having your spouse send you a text : "I've rented a jackhammer."

D tried to break the submerged concrete apart with the sledgehammer, with the intent that he would then just pull it out and dump it.  But it didn't really work.  The concrete ended up being thicker than just a few centimeters, and was quite deep.  Apparently there was rebar in there too.  I guess they really knew how to build concrete planters back in the day.  Built them to last.  Except it didn't last and had to be torn down...

Hence the jackhammer.

"Bobby! What are you doing with that jackhammer?!"

And this is the result.  Not the best photo.  But you can see the ravine filled with concrete gravel that had to be scooped out .

Which was yet another mess to clean up.  Let me specify.  Yet another concrete mess to clean up. So I spent a Saturday scooping out the smaller, gravelly concrete chunks.  

D hauled away the big concrete chunks to a local-ish gravel yard that accepts carloads for free.  We've transplanted the existing plants to the side and back yard, and mixed up the remaining "soil" to prep the bed.  This is the weekend.  Planting weekend.  Soo excited. 

But we're not done.
Then there was Mystery Shrub.  

Could be anything

Foof.

When we first met Mystery Shrub it looked hideously unkept.  We trimmed it back, I swear, but it just shot right back out with more volume.  Foof.  Like a shrubsplosion.  The Dad thought it might be a lilac, but on second glance the leaves didn't seem quite right.  If it was lilac, we'd know in the spring.  

Well, spring sprang while I was away, and I learned two things.  

One:  Mystery Shrub is a Lilac.

Two:  Mystery Shrub is not a Lilac.  

Mystery Shrub, it turns out, was two shrubs wrapped around each other.  In fact, some sort of tree/shrub/something had woven itself into and then overtaken the lilac. In the cold months, as there were no flowers (duh), we couldn't tell that one was strangling the other because it was just a mess of branches.

We now know the assailant is this:

Japanese Honeysuckle

Honeysuckle.  What a nice name, right?  Why, isn't that the name of scents slapped on lotions and shampoos, you might ask.  These things are like plant grenades.  They explode in your yard and make a giant mess.  Its reputation and tendency to strangle everything from lilacs to no less than two trees in my backyard belies its nicey-nice name.  The perpetrator had to go.

We began trying to scythe the thing down with hedge clippers and a keyhole saw, and by using D's brute strength to tear off branches and bits by hand, all while trying to save the lilac.  One of our neighbors saw us and was so moved to pity by how pathetic our efforts were, that he came over with his chainsaw and gave us a hand.  In no time, we had reduced Mystery Shrub to this.

He looks nekkid.  Poor shrub.  We had to tie the remaining branches together because there's so little of it left the sparse foliage has thinned practically to nothing where the honeysuckle took over.  I can only hope it will fill back in.  We're giving it ash from the fireplace once per week and trying not to overwater. We're going to chop back the highest bits once the flowers drop off.  Here's hoping our new friend survives.

In the mean time,

This is what our front yard looked like.  After we cleaned it we had a mountain of sticks to contend with, and the trash guys didn't take it the first week.  They finally picked up some of the dried up mess this week, and we'll be rid of the rest next week.  Little did I know at the time, D had developed a taste for wielding the chainsaw.  More on that soon.

It's worth it.  I've always wanted lilacs.

*http://www.gardenersnet.com/lilac/lilac06.htm

*Japanese Honeysuckle photo was taken and used without permission from fcps.edu . 

ohhhh Yard Maintenance

You may recall that D broke up the concrete in the side yard because it had heaved into an angle unhelpful to the house.  Unhelpful in that it sluiced all rainwater right into the side of the house where it leaked into our basement.  The natural lay of the land has all the yards on a gradual hillside slope, and we get all the water from the neighbor's yard rushing towards ours, aimed right at our house.

We dug a trench and laid a pipe for drainage.  It has truly helped for all but the heaviest rains.  We usually don't have water on the north side of the basement anymore. 

In Process

Giant pile of spiders.  I mean rocks.

We hauled away two carloads of the bigger chunks, but there remained a sizeable, unsightly rock pile at the corner of the house. 

And so it was, for a few months.  Because we felt we'd done enough for awhile.

 Little did I know, the pile of rocks was eating away at my husband's sanity. I had no idea the sight of it so offended him.  But it seemed to speak to him, saying nasty things.  "Your yard looks awful."  And such.

Frankly, I hadn't heard a thing. 

So on Sunday the pile of concrete fragments and bricks were moved armful by heavy armful out of the yard.

And there were spiders.  There were ugly brown spiders.  And they tried to touch me.  I had the heebie-jeebies in a serious way.  And in disturbing the pile we also displaced scores, if not hundreds of little centipedes and pillbugs and all manner of creatures. 

Basically an entire ecosystem was destroyed for aesthetic purposes. 

Worth it.



and we made the pavers uniform, but clearly the alignment is all wonky...



My back is killing me. 

And so the offense has been removed.  Well, that one brick is still there to cover a hole that looks suspiciously like a snake hole.  The other brick is there to keep him company. 

Yeah, but for now, this spot is nekkid

As you can see, we managed to kill all the grass under the concrete pile.  But it doesn't matter,

the grass seed we laid in the fall has given us supergrass around the pavers.  It'll be back in no time.

I also transplanted coral bells from the side bed (formerly the den of vine orgies), where they were constantly getting trampled by the dog anyway.  They cheer up the spot where we buried Cricket.  Though the thought that I might disturb her remains gave me the heebie-jeebies, so I was careful to dig as far as I could from where I remembered her to be.  The photos I took this morning turned out awkward, so I'll post some improved shots later. 

Speaking of coral bells, I planted a line of coral bells at the side of the house after the drainage pipe was laid last fall. 



 



Last Fall





Today

  

I think they survived the winter pretty well, and they filled out quite nicely.  Admittedly this winter was crazy mild.  Even so, it gives them a leg up.  Now they'll be well established for real winter next year.  




Shazaam

  Most astonishing though, are the coral bells that I put in planters on the rickety deck. 
Remember when they froze solid? 

Crispy Heuchera

This leafy fella is indestructible.  

Soon our flowers for the front garden arrive.  Cannot wait!

Ault Park in Bloom

I love when the days are long enough for us to get out and play.  When the weather is as lovely as it was on St. Patty's Day, how can you not get out and enjoy it?   

I missed the first few days of beautiful weather, sprawled out on the couch with a fever.  Poor dog didn't get much exercise, and I'd like to say he was pretty good about, except he's been jumping the fences to play with the neighbors' dogs again.  And then I had to run out in my slippers and madwoman hair, apologizing, trying to coax Dog back into the yard.  And because he was passive aggressive, he took some persuading.  Humiliation.  Clever vengeance, Dog.  

But St. Patty's Day had me feeling better than I have in awhile.  So as a treat for both of us I got out early with young master Bobbins, and we went to Ault Park.  

Just like Cherry Blossom time in Japan, people were out with their families, their dogs, their cameras, to take in the beautiful blossoms.

We went early in the day, so it was still quiet, the earth and blossoms were fragrant, especially thanks to the rain yesterday. 

I'd brought my headphones but I never put them in, choosing instead to give the full attention of my senses to the show that nature was putting on.  The birdsong was adequate soundtrack for me.

People enjoy sakura in Japan by having "Flower Viewing Parties."

A bunch of friends or family with spread a tarp underneath the canopy of blossoms and have a picnic and some drinks, and just generally have a good time. 

 No familiar blue tarps at Ault Park, and at that early hour there were no picnickers either.  All for the best I suppose, as they don't smile on publicly imbibing alcohol in the park, St. Patty's Day or no.  

No picnic for me either, especially not with the Dog in tow.  I can't imagine anything more impossible, actually.  

 

I certainly took my time strolling the grounds.  Took a photo for a sweet young couple.  Joked about stealing their fancy camera.  ha haa.

And maybe its all in my head, but I swear that something about a shift in weather that really seems to open people up.

 

The usually (seemingly) standoffish Cincinnatians around me were cordial in their greetings, pleasant in their hellos.  

Magnolia

There was an openness, a warmth that pervaded the scene.  Or maybe I'm the one that opened up? 

Camouflage, for the win

Oh, I'm making it sound pretty pastoral, huh?  But you know what?  It kinda was.   

Star Magnolia

A Spring morning spent in Ault Park is time well spent. 

 

Maybe even good for the soul.