After Dinner Stroll

2016-12-19-19-04-24-smI am alone at home this evening. After dinner (eaten at the picnic table while reading a book), I went for a stroll around the property. Part of my path wound through the tall grass between the hedge and the vegetable garden.

Setting aside my normal reaction (This is so overgrown! I’ve got to get out here and cut this down), I did what my ten year-old self would have done, and lay down in the grass, holding still until I began to notice things.

I noticed that the ground was delightfully warm against my back.

I noticed that some of the grass was still in flower—anthers nodding in the wind—and other grass had already gone to seed and been stripped by the birds.

I noticed that the smaller flies meandered around among the grass stalks while the larger flies zipped overhead.

I saw a velvet mite gliding up and down a stalk of grass.

I noticed that a house sparrow nearby was chirping at just the right frequency to be irritating to my ears.

I noticed that the clouds weren’t moving across the sky as I thought, but rather were simply growing and coalescing in place.

Next thing I knew, I was starting awake, with the clouds, the grass, the birds, and the insects all still doing their thing around me.

Through Fresh Eyes

100_2137-smAll week I weeded and tidied the yard in preparation for a pizza party on Friday night. I tried to make the sad, tired parts of the yard look less decrepit and free the nicer spots from their mantle of early summer weeds.

It’s a Sisyphean task—by Friday, the spots I had weeded on Monday were already sporting fresh weed growth.

So as the first guests arrived, I fretted over the shabby state of the yard and garden. As I looked around, I saw weeds, flowers that needed deadheading, outdoor furniture that should have been hosed off…

But no one noticed my weeds, aside from those guests studying particular ones (it was a party of ecologists, after all, and they were thrilled to find their research subjects ‘in the wild’).

Instead, they saw the musical instruments, the blooming flowers, the fish in the pond, the cat playing with a grass stalk, the places for playing and relaxing. They saw all the things we love about the yard, and never noticed the twitch sprouting in the paths and the flecks of bird poo on the deck chairs.

“This is awesome!” cried one guest as he beat out a rhythm on the outdoor drum set.

“It all looks so fresh…like it’s all new,” said another.

Throughout the evening kids and adults alike wandered around, feeding goats, playing outdoor instruments, grazing on raspberries, sitting on the benches tucked here and there, climbing trees, playing lawn games, and feasting on produce from the garden, baked in the new bread oven. Everyone smiled. Everyone relaxed.

It was good to see the property through their eyes for the evening. I focus so closely on the work that needs to be done, that sometimes I forget that, even with weeds or grass that needs mowing, the place is a haven. Sometimes I forget to put away the to-do list and just enjoy the place. I struggle to stop and smell the roses without also noticing they need to be pruned.

So thank you to all the guests who joined us Friday night. You gave me a fresh perspective and gave me permission to slack off a little this weekend—to just be here.

You have got to be kidding me…

2016-12-16-15-35-55It frosted Saturday morning. Yeah. It was 30C Friday afternoon, and by Saturday morning it was 2C. It was back up to 30 degrees by Saturday afternoon, and today we went to the pool.

I didn’t even think to check the garden Saturday morning. It never frosts this late in the year. That’s the seasonal equivalent of frost on June 16th, for those of you in the Northern Hemisphere. Even in St. Paul, Minnesota, it never frosted that late. It was a rude surprise when I went out to the garden in the afternoon to pick some vegetables and found the pumpkins and beans blackened.

The plants will survive—it was a light frost and the growing tips of the plants weren’t hit—but it will knock the pumpkins back significantly. They were already behind, because the first planting didn’t germinate, and these plants were my second try at them this year. A frost this late might be the difference between mature pumpkins when the first autumn frost hits or pumpkins that still need a few weeks of growth to reach the right stage for storage.

Unfortunately, the only thing to do at this point is shrug and be thankful the other frost-tender crops weren’t damaged…after the obligatory grumpy farmer complaints are through.

Christmas-lite

2016-11-30-17-31-25-smIt’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…

Strawberries, gooseberries, black currants, red currants, cherries, and peas—ah! The signs of Christmas! They’re red and green, just like those in the Northern Hemisphere, but the greens are brighter than pine tree green, and the reds more succulent than holly berries.

They are just as festive as the colours up north, though in a different way. While you look inward, gathering around the hearth on long dark evenings, we look outward, sitting with friends on the beach on long summer days. You dream of white snow, we dream of white sand. You have visions of sugar plums dancing in your heads, we have visions of fresh strawberries dancing in ours. While you sing ‘let it snow’, we sing ‘let us go’ (to the beach).

Now and again I miss the cosy dark of Christmas in the north. And every year, I wish summer gardening, Christmas, and the end of the school year didn’t happen simultaneously. But I’ve grown to appreciate the summer Christmas. I appreciate not having to plan Christmas dinner, but letting it spring from whatever is abundant in the garden. I appreciate being able to sit outside on the porch in the sun after gifts have been opened. I appreciate the barefoot, short-sleeved, nature of Christmas here.

It’s like Christmas-lite.

This Old House: Gifts from the Past

2016-12-09-10-46-51Most of the time, I think it would be wonderful to have a brand new house on a property that’s never had a house on it. To not be fighting a hundred and thirty years of other’s landscaping decisions and poor house maintenance would be a delight.

But then, sometimes the property’s history is a bonus.

When we moved in over eleven years ago, most of the property was overgrown with weeds. Even the garden beds around the house were choked with grass and yarrow. We slowly hacked away at the jungle, finding many surprises along the way—beautiful old roses, dahlias, peonies, daffodils, and a host of other flowers hidden away in the weeds. We transplanted the floundering plants to new, weed-free garden beds as we re-landscaped the property.

We thought we had discovered all the lost plants, but strange things have shown up over the years.

Several years after we had cleared and replanted the area between the house and the hedge, a day lily sprang up there. We had never seen a day lily on the property before. The following year, a winter-flowering iris popped its head up there, too. Again, a flower we haven’t seen anywhere before.

Other flowers have since appeared in unexpected places, long after the areas had been re-landscaped—mostly bulbs, as though the bulb sat dormant for years until conditions were better. Either that or they’ve been growing, not flowering, and somehow escaping my notice.

Either way, they’re like gifts from past gardeners.

Watching My Babies Grow

Recently hatched mantids--can you see them both?

Recently hatched mantids–can you see them both?

All winter I kept an eye on the eggs.

Now the preying mantids have all hatched, and I can’t help but watch them grow and develop.

They don’t tend to wander far, so it’s easy to keep tabs on them. Sometimes it takes a few minutes of staring before I see one, but then they start popping out at me until I’ve counted dozens of them.

I’m happy to report that they appear to be doing well. I’m sure that some are looking fat and sassy because they’ve eaten their brothers and sisters, but that’s the way it goes in the mantid world. Live by the raptorial front legs, die by the raptorial front legs.

This one is a bit older and easier to see.

This one is a bit older and easier to see.

Sometimes I wonder at myself, that I can watch this year after year, and still be excited as each new egg case hatches. I hope I never lose that wonder and joy.

A Rose

R Weiss roses Christchuch Botanic Gardens

R Weiss
roses
Christchuch Botanic Gardens

A rose, by any other name
Would still have thorns and be a pain.

Black spot, chafers, aphids, too,
Spider mites and powdery mildew.

Japanese beetles, leafcutter bees
It’s rife with pests and disease.

So go ahead, forget the rose
Plant a flower with fewer foes.

Sunflower, Daisy, there’s really a passel
Of flowers easy to grow without hassle.

No pruning, no spraying, no disease or thorns
For none of these things a gardener mourns.

Or better yet, just live with the weeds
They grow by themselves, and spread their own seeds.

Dandelion, yarrow, catsear and cress
All grow on their own and let the gardener rest.

Sunday Evening

Sunlight lingers in the western sky.
We sit in the darkening room,
Both curled up on the couch.
The ticking clock
And the rustle of a turning page
The only sounds.

The weekend is over
The mowing and weeding done.
Monday’s e-mail and phone calls
Can wait for morning.

For now, we escape
To other lands,
Other planets,
Other lives,
Where passion and drama
Are neatly wrapped up in 327 pages
Of plot lines converging
On hope.

What’s the price of a weed?

2016-11-08-16-14-49This is an important question at our house, with lots of weeds and two teens looking to make some extra money.

I decided to take a mathematical approach to this question.

Crop loss and control costs for weeds in New Zealand are estimated to be about $1.2 billion per year. Add another $1.3 billion for biodiversity losses, and the total bill for weeds comes to $2.5 billion per year.

So what should I be spending on weeds? Let’s do a few calculations.

New Zealand has a land area of 268,021 km2. That’s 26,802,100 hectares.

Our property is 0.6 hectares.

So our property is 0.00000002 of the land area of New Zealand.

Multiplying New Zealand’s total weed bill of $2.5 billion by 0.00000002, I should be paying about $50 a year to control weeds on my property.

My husband set the price of a 20 litre bucket of weeds at $2 (and I agreed to pay triple price for each bucket of pure thistles—hazard pay and all). That $50 is only going to pay for 25 buckets of weeds (or only 8 buckets of thistles).

Darn. I’m seriously being over-charged for weed control…

A Cauliflower Calamity

2016-11-29-16-41-47We’re about to be inundated with cauliflower. I’m afraid it’s all my fault.

As I looked through the seed catalogue way back in July, I saw ‘Cauliflower Orange Bouquet F1’.

The photo showed a warm orange head of cauliflower, and I thought, “Oooo! That would be pretty!”

I ordered it, of course. Never mind that I already had half a packet of ‘Snowball’ left from last year, and we don’t eat all that much cauliflower.

And then, because I can’t help myself, I planted both types this spring. After all, if orange cauliflower would look good, then orange and white cauliflower would look better, right?

Now I’m looking at 20 cauliflower plants all coming ready at the same time. That wouldn’t be too bad, if I had my beautiful orange and white colour combination.

Unfortunately, Orange Bouquet has turned out to be a sort of weak yellowish colour. If you didn’t have the two side by side, you’d be hard-pressed to tell the orange from the white.

The orange is every bit as delicious as the white, and the heads are big and compact. There’s nothing at all wrong with it. But it is a bit disappointing.

And now I’m wondering what to do with all this cauliflower…

Hmm…

I see in the catalogue there’s another variety—’Violet Sicilian’—now, that would be something! Think how all three colours would look together!

(Please, somebody stop me now, before it’s too late!)