Samuel Finley Breeze Morse's great-grandchild x 6 or 7

Garden Decor

I fetched from my old home a sundial, a purple glass garden globe, a rusty grate I found on the beach, and a potted fern (a gift from my gardening friend.) These items are in my garden room, (my community plot) the room without a water view--I'm not bitter.

I told you about garden rooms before; you can make them out of patios, in conjunction with outbuildings, in groves of greesn, in different parts of the yard, and around porches. I now will attempt to make my plot into a garden room--have no idea how I'll do that yet, but I carted a couple of things over there today--so soon, I'll upload a picture of what I'm attempting to create. I imagine myself sitting there in my garden, watching the foot long beans grow.

Now this is an amazing thing, the zucchini plants are acutally growing, as are the beans. I saw the sweet little spinach double leafs have popped through the soil--huh, maybe that was the kale. In any event, things are up and growing. Guess the garden just needed some heat.

At the old house (not really old, just nearly no longer mine) raspberries are taking over the garden plot. And fruit trees that the arborist suggested we pull out and plant tiny trees instead, are huge. Don't be fooled by semi-dwarf--what you want for a small space is dwarf. Whether or not those big trees will be replaced with smaller trees is no longer my choice. Oh well. What's the saying, ke sura sura.

Did I say the ivy is overgrown again. Another item to not encourage, that and butterfly bush.

What I learned this weekend: let go. Life is short. It will change whether you're willing to change with it, so might as well get on the band wagon; create what you want. If you stay stuck in what is not working, it will continue to not work. Create something new. Gardens know all about this. Create something, anything, even if it is a weed.

Oh, those are more pictures of old growth forests. They are creating new by growing ferns along their mossy surfaces--and other plants. They are giants, so awesome I'm still breathing in their essense.

More later. Flower!

Summertime + Player Pianos + Deer

We bought a player piano in the mid 60s that actually worked. We had these long sheets of paper with the notes cut out in tiny slices--we fed the sheets through the piano and it played a tune like a music box plays, tinkling the tones in methodical vigorous manner. We'd had another player piano when I was a kid--Dad had it moved to the basement of the Audubon house, but the only way the moving men could get it down there was to take it apart. So there it sat in the rec room, in pieces, for the entire time we lived in that house. My brother and I would bang on the strings, pretending we were making spooky haunted house sounds.

I have a piano now, but it is in my ex's house and I have no place to move it, since I live in 525 sq ft. I've thought of finding someone who played and see if they want to keep my piano until I live in a larger place. But so far have found no one to do this. I thought the grandbaby would like it--he loves music and we dance and sing together--but my daughter has too much furniture already.

Which brings me to the chair I will place in my garden. Each place I find to move something seems to solve a little of this problem. The chair is currently sitting on a pile of my stuff in the car garage, waiting it's debut in the Wilson and 10th Street garden plot. I actually have some beans up and the zucchini look strong. I planted another tomato, the one I told you about. Green Zebra Stripped. And the grandbaby helped me water. A deer had walked through the garden, and if she ate something, I'm not privy to what. It was a sultry day and a good first day of summer and the celebration was fine.

Now I must get on the road and catch a ferry. Working on cleaning out the old place, extricating myself entirely is a emotional job; however, I'm ready for it after this last full moon and all the weird and wonderful things that happened.

Ciao!

Gloomy Morning

Well, I really am having trouble letting go of my almost-ex-husband. So what does that have to do with gardening? I'm not sure, but there's all that mint that has trouble letting go of the soil and water, all lush in the corner of my garden plot. It's so tenacious, the roots traveling underground, new stems coming up along the runners. In the woods around here, when a cedar tree falls, it becomes a nursery log and new trees sprout in it's composting trunk, so the new trees grow in a row. So sweet. As far as a fallen marriage goes, I guess new parts of me are being forced to grow along the fallen parts. Each part of me has to break down, turn to compost and then regrow something new. The part I'm working on now is letting someone else have him. Ooh, that bothers me. But everything is impermanent. The garden teaches me that. Plants have a short life cycle. Although I do have a Hoya that is 32 years old. I've carried it from one residence to another. Funny how things work out. Something that seems permanent, isn't.

So the garden rules summarized:

1. A plot cannot be left unattended for more that two weeks. (Oops!)

2. No weeds pulled and left in the garden.

3. Conserve water.

4. Rocks go in rock pile.

5. Weeds go in compost pile.

6. No pets and keep tabs on children.

7. Weed-free and looking neat please.

8. A plot not maintained for more than 30 days will be re-assigned.

9. Fencing within plot borders only.

Etc.

Here's the grandbaby. I'm feeling better now. Ciao!

Letter from the Parks Department

I received the letter today, explaining community garden rules. One of the rules I noticed as I quickly scanned the list is--do not leave pulled weeds in your garden. There is a huge compost heap next to the tool shed, which I've dug some very nice compost from, but really, pulled weeds aren't much different than other mulch, and can be used on the paths between lovely rows of beans or peas. I'm a girl who follows the rules, you can probably tell this, I mean wearing pearls to hoe the garden--sheez, what is more proper. I'll catch you up to speed when I finish the pleasant reading matherial. Until later, Ciao.

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