Just a girl with a hammer

Tag: garden

  • Not that we’re counting

    Not that we’re counting

    Last week Loree inventoried her mahonia collection. Mahonia
    is my favorite genus of plants (I wouldn’t kick most of Berberidaceae out of
    bed) so I was very excited. As I read on I realized that Loree probably has
    more mahonia than me and how could that be? I love mahonia so much that I made
    up a hashtag to mock one of our friends who doesn’t care for it (#graceiswrongaboutmahonia).
    Let’s take a look at what I have.

    The first mahonia I ever bought was ‘Dan Hinkley.’ It grew
    slowly, it was leggy . . . I moved it twice and then ultimately composted it. I
    am now trying it again in the front garden but if it doesn’t perform well it
    will get the green bin.

    The next one I purchased was Mahonia x media ‘Arthur
    Menzies.’ I grow this in full south-facing sun in lean soil with not a lot of
    supplemental water. As a result it’s shorter and chonkier than it would be
    normally. Arthur is my earliest Chinese hybrid to bloom, starting in November and
    lasting through February. It’s a bright shining beacon in winter. Sadly,
    because it’s grown in so much sun, it drops far more leaves . . . right into my
    agaves. For that reason I think I may remove it soon and replace it with a palm
    tree (my second favorite group of plants). But it’s still a good one.

    I have Mahonia nervosa smattered everywhere throughout my
    garden because it spreads by runners and it takes almost any conditions. I have
    it in my front rain garden where it gets cooked in the summer and in the driest,
    deepest shade. It has fabulous winter color and needs almost no care. No notes.

    Mahonia nervosa var. mendocinoensis. I got this from Xera, who promises it could be 9 feet tall if I keep it happy. This one is native so I can be smug at dinner parties.

    Kate Bryant introduced me to Mahonia x media ‘Winter Sun.’
    It apparently has a bluer cast when grown in deep shade. This one has stayed on the petite side for me.

    Good old ‘Charity.’ This one is probably leggy because I grow it
    too lean, too dry, and too shady. Literally every one I’ve seen growing looks
    better than mine.

    Mahonia x media ‘Underway.’ Maybe my favorite of the Chinese crosses? It grows tall and narrow, it’s
    very tidy and has berries that ripen unequally. Like I like my men.

    Mahonia confusa ‘Narihira’. This has been smashed multiple times by gigantic fallen
    branches off of our neighbors’ doug fir. We’ll forgive it for looking a little
    worse for the wear, it should grow out of it.

    Mahonia gracilipes. This got regularly leaned on by my Datisca
    cannabina    , so it had posture issues from the jump (in this photo it’s being held up by that large stone). Then our late wet snow storm
    in April completely put it on the ground. I pruned it rather harshly and moved
    it to another spot in the bed. I think it’s time to admit that it just needs to
    be replaced. Otherwise a perfect plant.

    Mahonia ‘Cabaret.’ I got this from Far Reaches. It notably has pink to
    purple blooms like you’d find in Mahonia gracilipes (one of its parents). It
    has been eaten within an inch of its life by some critter and I’ve been too
    forgetful/lazy to figure out how to treat it. It looks awful through no fault
    of its own.

    Mahonia x savilliana. I saw this at The Elisabeth Miller Garden and dreamed about it for years. I finally wrote Richie Steffens and was
    like, “How do I get one?” He said to check with Far Reaches because they took
    cuttings years back. I contacted them and sure enough, they had some tucked in
    the back of a hoophouse. It’s one of my favorites.

    Mahonia confusa ‘Cistus Silvers.’ Another favorite, I think
    this one looks dramatically better when grown in quite a bit of sun. I have two
    of these, one grown in morning sun (leggy and anemic) and one grown in almost
    full sun (lush and full, seen below).

    Mahonia x media ‘JC.’ This was a cultivar grown in JC
    Raulston’s mad laboratory that Sean Hogan took home and planted in his garden.
    In my memory it was taller than his two-story house. I asked him if he’d ever
    consider propagating it and HE DID. Maybe he was already planning on it, but I
    felt like he did this just for me and I appreciated it so much. Plant people
    are the best people. Mine is only 6′ thus far, and it has stubbier flower
    spikes than the other Chinese crosses. It’s great.

    I should mention that I planted Mahonia haematocarpus ‘Santa Fe Landscape,’
    a diminutive form. It was so small and in such an overplanted area that it was trampled
    or pulled up by accident. I would buy this one again and be more careful.

    Photo from plantlust.com

    I’d never purchased ‘Soft Caress,’ I think because I equated
    it with the poor performance of ‘Dan Hinkley’ even though I’ve seen it
    countless times in other gardens looking great. Reading Loree’s post it became
    imperative that I get one right away. I started texting her and calling around
    and she pointed me to Cornell Farm. Within the hour I had called them, sped
    over there, and purchased two. Greg immediately declared them “super cool” and
    asked why I didn’t buy more. I’ll probably buy more.

    Sean and the Cistus team have been experimenting with
    seedlings and posting teasers on Instagram. I look forward to buying many more from them. Am I missing any great cultivars or seed strains? And please, feel free to harass Grace and let her know that she’s wrong about mahonia. It’s a great genus of plants.

  • Have you heard the good word?

    Have you heard the good word?

    Hey guys, did I miss anything while I was off, not blogging?
    Hoo, everything is terrible, no? I’m a weird one in that I don’t always find
    solace in my garden when times are tough. For a lot of reasons (terrible
    neighbors, forest fire smoke, an inexplicably bad ant year) I didn’t do much in
    the garden in 2020. I didn’t buy any plants or complete any big projects. I hid in the house and watched RuPaul’s Drag Race like the bible
    tells us to do in difficult times. It made me feel better, even if Greg wishes I’d
    stop calling him “hunty.”

    By the time 2021 and vaccines rolled around I was ready for
    Hot Garden Summer. But jesus, NOT LIKE THAT. The heat dome hit at the end of
    June and really crisped the shit out of the garden. Our back garden measured a top
    temperature of 115.5. It was terrible.

    Good thing we’ve introduced a never-ending source of joy
    into our lives: palm trees. Much like coconut oil in 2015, they work in any application and cure any ailment. I grew up in an area where they are ubiquitous in Safeway parking lots and gas
    stations, so I took them for granted for many years. At some point I came around and in 2018 we bought some 1 gallon
    Trachycarpus wagnerianus from Rare Plant Research. By 2021 they were still
    pretty small and I decided that I was willing to shell out a lot of money for
    some instant impact.

    Still quite small after three years

    At the end of 2018 we had the Home Depot yellow bamboo removed from our back garden. They came with the house and had become increasingly problematic. While it was a relief to have them gone, I had never appreciated the privacy those two clumps provided or how they anchored the back. I picked up Chusqea culeou from Bamboo Garden but it’s going to be many years before they have the visual heft we want. 

    Before removal

    After removal
    The replacement bamboo is . . . sparse

    Enter palm trees. I visited Oregon Palm Nursery and bought three palms ranging from 5-7’. As
    soon as I got them in the ground, I wanted more.

    Luckily disaster struck and a wind storm took out the Ceanothus thyrsiflorus that framed the entrance to the back garden. 

    A lot of people made excellent replacement suggestions but I
    ignored them and planted yet another Trachycarpus wagnerianus. And another and
    another because nature loves odd numbers and palms really can be squeezed in
    anywhere. And if you’re paying a flat delivery fee, you might as well make it
    worth the driver’s effort. In a fun twist, the trees were delivered one
    day prior to the heat dome hitting, which meant I had to hustle after work to
    get three 6’ trachys unboxed, put in the ground, and watered in. I’m not sure I’ve ever been that sweaty, muddy, and tired. 

    Did I mention I was opening my garden in a few weeks, so that Ceanothus absolutely had to be replaced as soon as humanly possible?

    I LIVE ON A PALM FARM

    Scott Weber kindly photographed my garden this summer so I would have a few non-blurry iPhone shots of my garden.

    Photo by Scott Weber

    Photo by Scott Weber

    Photo by Scott Weber

    I’m not saying palms will cure your cancer but I’m not saying they won’t not cure it, either. At the very least you might feel better and it’s a less stupid trend than oil pulling. These palms make me SO HAPPY. I tend to treat them like I treat Bee, which involves a lot of staring and whispering “You’re so good.”

    The look when you’re not giving her snacks fast enough

    Stay tuned for my next trend talk: Fuchsias – I’m Suddenly Extremely Into These, Possibly Because They Look Great With Trachys?

    I only know how to take blurry iPhone shots

    I’m sadly very late to the game acknowledging that two friends wrote exceedingly nice things about my garden in the last two years: Loree Bohl at Danger Garden and Alyse Lansing at Lansing Garden Design. You both make me feel extra #blessed.

  • Diary of a wimpy gardener

    Diary of a wimpy gardener

    I’ve just returned from another successful Garden Bloggers’ Fling, this time in Denver, CO. I had so much fun (or possibly lost so much blood to mosquitoes) that I’m still trying to recover. One of my favorite things about the Fling is that I get to explore another gardening environment and it always makes me realize that I garden exactly where I should.

    Because guys, I am a wimp.

    I’d never been to Colorado and I was unprepared for how much tougher it is, being at a higher elevation and in such a dry environment. I felt perpetually thirsty, tired, and unmoisturized. They only average 17 inches of precipitation per year! It often snows in MAY. The bees are absolutely enormous and their mosquitoes are blood-thirsty. YOU CAN’T BUY WINE IN A GROCERY STORE, WHAT THE FUCK COLORADO, YOUR PEOPLE ALREADY ENDURE SO MUCH.

    But in that pioneer spirit, they make do. They manage to create stunning gardens even though they have a much shorter growing season than most of the country. They create fascinating topography using rock, which I suspect looks great even covered in snow.

    They create beautiful vignettes in pots.

    They create visual interest using unusual materials.

    They seemingly spend entire paychecks on annuals.

    Their porches go up to 11.

    They hunt down liquor stores for a measly bottle of chardonnay, apparently. People drink wine IN CHURCH, Colorado. This feels punitive.

    They plant poppies galore.

    And penstemon, so many penstemon!

    And the most beautiful flax I’ve ever seen.

    Bonus Jean color echo!

    They embrace color amongst the evergreens and really squeeze every opportunity out of their growing season.

    The gardeners in Colorado are exceedingly warm and generous, allowing us not only into their gardens but also their homes. Many of them provided snacks and let us use their bathrooms.

    I really enjoyed myself, in spite of my Pacific Northwesterner wimpery (and I’m an especially tender example). Huge thanks are owed to the organizers, who did such a fantastic job. I left inspired to up my container game and to appreciate that I can buy wine at Safeway, the way god intended.

    Coloradans are creative, friendly, and far tougher than me. They make spectacular gardens.

  • Just a girl with a nail gun

    Just a girl with a nail gun

    This spring I actually experienced spring fever for the first time in many years. I felt itchy to get in the garden and I purchased prolific amounts of plants via mail order and local nurseries. Our dog and her friends ran roughshod over the garden and I didn’t even care because the seal was broken and I! was! buying! everything!



    I grew sweet peas (‘April in Paris’) for the first time and, holy shit, people, those smell as good as everyone says they do. I got my new plant babies in the ground in a timely fashion! I kept thinking, “This is my year. I’m going to stay on top of weeds and for once I won’t be embarrassed to have people over.”
    Then I had to travel to California a bunch of times and then the weather turned hot and my brain and body lost all of their go-go. Oxalis covered everything and Greg would helpfully ask, “Do you think you should do something about that?” and I would glare at him and return to melting in front of the garden mister.



    This was not my year. I didn’t stay up on weeding. That said, I did achieve a couple of things. I replaced the rotting fence between us and our newest neighbors. They are delightful but they smoke constantly and they have a clear view of our yard from the raised deck off the back of their house. So we asked if we could replace the fence and foot the bill. I disassembled the old fence and built the new one in three hours one Sunday morning while Greg was gone because NAIL GUNS ARE AWESOME. 


    Before

    After



    Weirdos from Craigslist took the old boards for reuse and I drank two cocktails at a tiki bar and took an epic four hour nap. The fence is now seven feet tall, which should also help block the view of our backyard from the three-story condos that were recently built at the end of our block. 

    I also reorganized our garage, which looked like the touchdown site of a tornado. Our garage is long and skinny and full of junk. It looks like the inside of my purse but dirtier and with more things that draw blood. The previous owner, a paranoid mess who wrapped every heat register in the house in tin foil (so the government can’t listen in on you), installed a useless shelf with a gigantic mirror tilted back. 




    See, I don’t need safety measures like mirrors to know if someone is sneaking up on me because I left 900 nursery pots at the entrance of the garage. There’s a pile of styrofoam you can fall on, too.




    We finally took the mirror down, demoed the shelf, and removed a weird cabinet in the corner that we used to store spiders.

    We moved our metal shelves to the back and I built a potting table, modified from this video I found on YouTube. Men have largely convinced women that we’ll kill ourselves if we use power tools but it turns out building stuff isn’t that hard and its super fun.



    Then I added hanging storage to the walls and now sometimes I just stand in my garage and coo in this general direction. As my mother always says, “Simple minds = simple pleasures.”



    Next up we’re having the yellow bamboo that came with the house removed. It has been terribly behaved, sending rhizomes through the root balls of neighboring plants, at a shocking speed. It leaves culm litter everywhere and it sucks. WHY IS THIS THE BAMBOO HOME DEPOT SELLS EVERYONE? In its place I’m planting Chusqea culeou, which is a true clumper that shouldn’t be quite so messy.



    Next year is going to be my year, I can just feel it. I’m going to stay on top of weeds and for once I won’t be embarrassed to have people over. And I will buy a lot of plants, that I know is true.

  • Happy accidents when you don’t know what you’re doing

    Happy accidents when you don’t know what you’re doing

    Lately I’ve been appreciating a bit of seredipity in the entrance to the backyard. Back in 2011 I posted about how I wanted the entrance to the back garden to envelop you, so you’d get a slow reveal to the rest of the yard. 

    After a couple of unsuccessful plantings (mock orange, flowering currant, some other stuff) I planted a Ceanothus thyrsiflorus in 2012 and it grew quickly.

    My neighbors had a gorgeous ceanothus that spilled into our side yard and it had been trained as a tree:

    When the next door house was flipped and sold they removed this ceanothus and I lost all the shade in my side yard.

    I’d never really seen another Ceanothus because I was new to gardening so I didn’t realize most people let them grow as shrubs. I limbed up mine too and now it provides a nice canopy along the pathway. Most visitors don’t recognize what it is because, you know, it should be a shrub. Or maybe the straight species is always a tree but everyone grows more exciting cultivars like ‘Dark Star‘.

    Tree sized in six years!

    I don’t always love this ceanothus because its bloom time is short and the flowers aren’t as intensely colored as some of the named cultivars. It’s also messy once the blooms die. The good news is they don’t live very long so I’ll probably be shopping for a new tree/shrub in the next ten years.

    Please also admire the color echo between the hosta and the hose junking up the photo. Based on every photo I have ever taken it looks like I live in a hose-testing facility.

    And since we’re looking at that old post, let’s do a before and after!

    Before
    After
    Looking back at the entrance, you can see that my wine barrel has since been planted with bamboo, the rain garden was installed, and everything grew like crazy. That old bit of fence on the left was removed as well.

    Before
    After

    Standing in the middle of the yard and looking at the back of the house you can see that we were, in 2011, considering building a huge deck off the back of the house. It’s not all happy accidents when you don’t know what you’re doing! What the fuck were we thinking?

    Before
    After

    Another gigantic whatthefuck was forming here with that goofy shaped bed (hinted at here with stones on the lawn). Circles and squares, damn it! None of this freestyle nonsense!

    Before
    After
    So the moral of the story is that you can limb up your ceanothus but you shouldn’t hire Greg or I to design decks or raised beds for you. We suck at it.
  • Happy accidents when you don’t know what you’re doing

    Happy accidents when you don’t know what you’re doing

    Lately I’ve been appreciating a bit of seredipity in the entrance to the backyard. Back in 2011 I posted about how I wanted the entrance to the back garden to envelop you, so you’d get a slow reveal to the rest of the yard. 

    After a couple of unsuccessful plantings (mock orange, flowering currant, some other stuff) I planted a Ceanothus thyrsiflorus in 2012 and it grew quickly.

    My neighbors had a gorgeous ceanothus that spilled into our side yard and it had been trained as a tree:

    When the next door house was flipped and sold they removed this ceanothus and I lost all the shade in my side yard.

    I’d never really seen another Ceanothus because I was new to gardening so I didn’t realize most people let them grow as shrubs. I limbed up mine too and now it provides a nice canopy along the pathway. Most visitors don’t recognize what it is because, you know, it should be a shrub. Or maybe the straight species is always a tree but everyone grows more exciting cultivars like ‘Dark Star‘.

    Tree sized in six years!

    I don’t always love this ceanothus because its bloom time is short and the flowers aren’t as intensely colored as some of the named cultivars. It’s also messy once the blooms die. The good news is they don’t live very long so I’ll probably be shopping for a new tree/shrub in the next ten years.

    Please also admire the color echo between the hosta and the hose junking up the photo. Based on every photo I have ever taken it looks like I live in a hose-testing facility.

    And since we’re looking at that old post, let’s do a before and after!

    Before
    After
    Looking back at the entrance, you can see that my wine barrel has since been planted with bamboo, the rain garden was installed, and everything grew like crazy. That old bit of fence on the left was removed as well.

    Before
    After

    Standing in the middle of the yard and looking at the back of the house you can see that we were, in 2011, considering building a huge deck off the back of the house. It’s not all happy accidents when you don’t know what you’re doing! What the fuck were we thinking?

    Before
    After

    Another gigantic whatthefuck was forming here with that goofy shaped bed (hinted at here with stones on the lawn). Circles and squares, damn it! None of this freestyle nonsense!

    Before
    After
    So the moral of the story is that you can limb up your ceanothus but you shouldn’t hire Greg or I to design decks or raised beds for you. We suck at it.
  • Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day May 2018

    Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day May 2018

    So when I recently attended the Garden Bloggers Fling I got to meet Carol, the godmother of Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day. She has a cute illustration of a Victorian woman pushing a lawn mower on her website and, because I am a dolt, my brain filed this away literally. I pictured her as an older woman with flowing gray hair. She wears pantaloons and she carries a wicker basket to collect flowers.

    In reality, Carol is a modern woman who wears pants and rocks a blond pixie cut. I tell you this in case you were similarly confused.

    And you know what? I just looked at that photo again and it’s not a Victorian woman. It’s like an English woman, maybe turn of the century? It’s a wonder I’m gainfully employed.

    Anyway, it’s so bloomy right now! This could take a while.

    Phacelia viscida

    Lonicera brownii ‘Dropmore Scarlet’

    Echium wildpretii

    Stipa gigantea

    Oxalis oregana

    Calamagrostis foliosa 

    Festuca amethystina ‘Superba’

    Allium schubertii

    Syringa patula ‘Miss Kim’

    Allium ‘Purple Sensation’

    Salvia nemerosa ‘Caradonna’

    Stipa gigantea ‘Little Giant’

    Camassia leichtlinii semiplena

    Lewisia cotyledon

    Lewisia cotyledon ‘White Splendor’

    Rhazya orientalis

    Parahebe perfoliata

    Dierama pulcherrimum

    Phlomis russeliana

    Amsonia hubrichtii

    Geranium macrorrhizum

    Arctostaphylos ‘John Dourley’

    Spiraea betulifolia var. lucida
    Fuchsia speciosa

    Podophyllum pleianthum

    Salvia ‘Skyscraper’

    Ceanothus thyrsiflorus

    Cuphea x ‘Strybing Sunset’

    Cerinthe purpurascens
    Bletilla striata

    Whew, we made it! Thanks again to our host, Carol, who is neither a Victorian, nor a Dowager Countess, who maintains her idyllic manor with a push mower and a snarky aside.

  • Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day May 2018

    Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day May 2018

    So when I recently attended the Garden Bloggers Fling I got to meet Carol, the godmother of Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day. She has a cute illustration of a Victorian woman pushing a lawn mower on her website and, because I am a dolt, my brain filed this away literally. I pictured her as an older woman with flowing gray hair. She wears pantaloons and she carries a wicker basket to collect flowers.

    In reality, Carol is a modern woman who wears pants and rocks a blond pixie cut. I tell you this in case you were similarly confused.

    And you know what? I just looked at that photo again and it’s not a Victorian woman. It’s like an English woman, maybe turn of the century? It’s a wonder I’m gainfully employed.

    Anyway, it’s so bloomy right now! This could take a while.

    Phacelia viscida

    Lonicera brownii ‘Dropmore Scarlet’

    Echium wildpretii

    Stipa gigantea

    Oxalis oregana

    Calamagrostis foliosa 

    Festuca amethystina ‘Superba’

    Allium schubertii

    Syringa patula ‘Miss Kim’

    Allium ‘Purple Sensation’

    Salvia nemerosa ‘Caradonna’

    Stipa gigantea ‘Little Giant’

    Camassia leichtlinii semiplena

    Lewisia cotyledon

    Lewisia cotyledon ‘White Splendor’

    Rhazya orientalis

    Parahebe perfoliata

    Dierama pulcherrimum

    Phlomis russeliana

    Amsonia hubrichtii

    Geranium macrorrhizum

    Arctostaphylos ‘John Dourley’

    Spiraea betulifolia var. lucida
    Fuchsia speciosa

    Podophyllum pleianthum

    Salvia ‘Skyscraper’

    Ceanothus thyrsiflorus

    Cuphea x ‘Strybing Sunset’

    Cerinthe purpurascens
    Bletilla striata

    Whew, we made it! Thanks again to our host, Carol, who is neither a Victorian, nor a Dowager Countess, who maintains her idyllic manor with a push mower and a snarky aside.

  • Bugs, booze, and brisket

    Bugs, booze, and brisket

    I recently returned from the Austin Garden Bloggers’ Fling, which was so fun I feel like I could sleep for a week. I ate my weight in brisket, I got bitten by both chiggers and fire ants, and I drank gallons of margaritas. I even saw the Alamo, so I’m feeling pretty complete.

    Just another perfect, humongous Agave ovatafolia

    In the garden of Pam Penick

    A lot of times touring other gardens can make me feel pretty down on my own but this trip felt like a good, inspiring shot in the arm. Austin gardens have something for everyone, from super modern corten steel to quirky nichos.

    Veg plots at the Mirador garden

    Nicho in the garden of Lucinda Hutson

    Austin has so many more trees than I expected, even in areas of new construction. I suspect the need for shade is so great that they work around existing trees instead of leveling everything like they do in Portland. As we’re both trying to keep our cities weird, it was hard not to compare the two.

    Construction in my Portland neighborhood. They removed six old redwoods to build these.

    When they say “everything is bigger in Texas” they are referring to their agaves, their margaritas, and their highway on-ramps, which are terrifyingly tall. Every time we drove over one, seemingly 1000 feet in the air, I felt like a country bumpkin. They must have gotten a huge amount of infrastructure money because all of the freeways and highways are seemingly under construction, all at once.

    I found myself in love all over again with salvias of the greggii and microphylla variety. Gardeners tuck them in everywhere all over Austin and they seem to look great, no matter the color.

    I also fell in love with Aspidistra elatior, which falls under the “useful but unexciting plant that comes with your yard when you buy a house in Austin” category. I have plenty of friends that grow this plant but it took me flying to Texas to notice it. I’ve said it before: everything is more magical when you go through life not really paying attention. Surprises are everywhere!

    I was also impressed by the lack of litter in Texas. That “Don’t Mess with Texas” slogan is working. Washington employs “Litter and It Will Hurt” which is somehow more menacing and yet less effective. Oregon doesn’t have a slogan (that I know of), it just sits and passively sighs and glares while you litter, wishing you wouldn’t. It would say something but we’re polite and we don’t do that sort of thing.

    Now that I have a dog I am even more aware of how filthy Portland’s close-in neighborhoods are. Going on walks is such an adventure now. What will I pull out of Bee’s mouth this time? A Q-tip? A cigarette butt? A rotting pineapple? ALL OF THESE THINGS HAVE HAPPENED.

    I eat anything

    I got to see gardens that I’ve loved online for years, including Jenny Stocker’s (of Rockrose fame), which was so genuinely thrilling I considered taking a xanax that morning so I wouldn’t embarrass myself. Her garden was a revelation for me when I started gardening and it was even better in person.

    I also got to see Pam Penick’s garden, which was so fucking delightful and beautiful I want to live in her pump house.

    Pam can create vignettes like no one else.

    Mostly I realized how much I like gardens that really go for it. I spend a lot of mental bandwidth worrying that people are judging my garden choices behind my back. I police my style because I don’t want to make mistakes. I’m not a designer and I don’t make a living in the horticulture industry. I’m a librarian, for Pete’s sake, I’m expected to be boring and unstylish. If someone doesn’t like my mismatched pots they can drink a Mexican martini in the garden of someone more talented.

    Because I experienced my first Mexican martini and I am HERE FOR IT.

    (It’s just a double margarita with an olive, served in a martini glass and a shaker on the side “because it’s classy.”)

    Life is short, why not make your margarita twice the size and embrace your inner mermaid? More is more.

  • Bugs, booze, and brisket

    Bugs, booze, and brisket

    I recently returned from the Austin Garden Bloggers’ Fling, which was so fun I feel like I could sleep for a week. I ate my weight in brisket, I got bitten by both chiggers and fire ants, and I drank gallons of margaritas. I even saw the Alamo, so I’m feeling pretty complete.

    Just another perfect, humongous Agave ovatafolia

    In the garden of Pam Penick

    A lot of times touring other gardens can make me feel pretty down on my own but this trip felt like a good, inspiring shot in the arm. Austin gardens have something for everyone, from super modern corten steel to quirky nichos.

    Veg plots at the Mirador garden

    Nicho in the garden of Lucinda Hutson

    Austin has so many more trees than I expected, even in areas of new construction. I suspect the need for shade is so great that they work around existing trees instead of leveling everything like they do in Portland. As we’re both trying to keep our cities weird, it was hard not to compare the two.

    Construction in my Portland neighborhood. They removed six old redwoods to build these.

    When they say “everything is bigger in Texas” they are referring to their agaves, their margaritas, and their highway on-ramps, which are terrifyingly tall. Every time we drove over one, seemingly 1000 feet in the air, I felt like a country bumpkin. They must have gotten a huge amount of infrastructure money because all of the freeways and highways are seemingly under construction, all at once.

    I found myself in love all over again with salvias of the greggii and microphylla variety. Gardeners tuck them in everywhere all over Austin and they seem to look great, no matter the color.

    I also fell in love with Aspidistra elatior, which falls under the “useful but unexciting plant that comes with your yard when you buy a house in Austin” category. I have plenty of friends that grow this plant but it took me flying to Texas to notice it. I’ve said it before: everything is more magical when you go through life not really paying attention. Surprises are everywhere!

    I was also impressed by the lack of litter in Texas. That “Don’t Mess with Texas” slogan is working. Washington employs “Litter and It Will Hurt” which is somehow more menacing and yet less effective. Oregon doesn’t have a slogan (that I know of), it just sits and passively sighs and glares while you litter, wishing you wouldn’t. It would say something but we’re polite and we don’t do that sort of thing.

    Now that I have a dog I am even more aware of how filthy Portland’s close-in neighborhoods are. Going on walks is such an adventure now. What will I pull out of Bee’s mouth this time? A Q-tip? A cigarette butt? A rotting pineapple? ALL OF THESE THINGS HAVE HAPPENED.

    I eat anything

    I got to see gardens that I’ve loved online for years, including Jenny Stocker’s (of Rockrose fame), which was so genuinely thrilling I considered taking a xanax that morning so I wouldn’t embarrass myself. Her garden was a revelation for me when I started gardening and it was even better in person.

    I also got to see Pam Penick’s garden, which was so fucking delightful and beautiful I want to live in her pump house.

    Pam can create vignettes like no one else.

    Mostly I realized how much I like gardens that really go for it. I spend a lot of mental bandwidth worrying that people are judging my garden choices behind my back. I police my style because I don’t want to make mistakes. I’m not a designer and I don’t make a living in the horticulture industry. I’m a librarian, for Pete’s sake, I’m expected to be boring and unstylish. If someone doesn’t like my mismatched pots they can drink a Mexican martini in the garden of someone more talented.

    Because I experienced my first Mexican martini and I am HERE FOR IT.

    (It’s just a double margarita with an olive, served in a martini glass and a shaker on the side “because it’s classy.”)

    Life is short, why not make your margarita twice the size and embrace your inner mermaid? More is more.