Gardening with a Straight Edge

We had a lot of landscaping done this summer--the kind of thing that were beyond even the amazing DIY prowess of Cpt. Sweetie. We had three guys full time in our yard for a month, and for the first three weeks they didn't make a MOVE without a level in their hands.

They built us walkways, they built us steps. They built a patio and a bluestone planter/wall. They brought in 7 foot tall trees and planted them for us. They ripped up the lawn (a word which here means "mostly creeping charlie and a lot of weeds") and laid sod.

Then they went away.

Not that the landscaping was finished, mind you. Far from it. However, what was left was the sort of thing that even someone with limited DIY skills ( which would be me) could take over. Planting perennials and small shrubs? Mulching? Things that take more muscle than brains? That's my portfolio!

Of course, we have a scale plan for the yard, with plants spec'd by species and number and color, and so all I have to do is buy the plants, locate them according to the plan, and then plant them. One of the first I did was a ring of three cranberry cotoneaster shrubs.



Pretty, isn't it.


Since this was the first thing I was planting, I was obsessive about the placement. I took measurements from the plan, and replicated them in the yard. I took yard measurements and checked them against the plan. I lined up plants (still in their pots) and tweaked the design so that it looked good, then checked them against the plan. Only after I was satisfied that I had honored the balance of the original plan, while also controlling for the variations on the ground, did I plant those three bushes.

The digging and planting took about 20 minutes--the lining up and double checking beforehand took a good hour.

So it was with pride I showed Cpt. Sweetie the gorgeous new shrubs in our garden, regaling him with tales of all the care I had put into placing them precisely as the plan demanded.

He looked at me with that loving expression--the one that makes me feel like I won the Husband Jackpot: a mix of love, pride, humor--and said, "You did an excellent job. Except, the cotoneaster don't go there."

Ack! He was right, of course. All that measuring and placing, and I had failed to notice that the plan called for a completely different plant there.



Citrus swizzle forsythia, which looks nothing at all like cotoneaster.

Oh. Nevermind.

Tiptoe Through The Tulips

(Are you old enough to remember Tiny Tim singing that song? If you are, You're Welcome, because now it's stuck in your head. Just a little service I provide.)

Well, we're going to do it. We signed the contract and put down the deposit, and landscaping is going to happen in our yard. OMG.

We hired a designer, and she totally was fabulous as she walked around our yard, and then she came up with a totally fabulous design, with a ton of fabulous hardscaping and ornamental trees, and we spent last weekend visiting the garden center to look at the plants we didn't recognize and OMG it's going to be totally fabulous.

They are scheduled to start in about a week, and one of the first things to be done is to go around and mark the plants we already have that we want to save. Since we've not done much gardening this season (because hey--we're going to get it Professionally Landscaped!), the "garden" is really rather more of "weeds." So I figured, since I had some time and energy to use up, I would go out and clear away some of the 4 foot tall weeds and find the plants that we might want to keep.

And I found a lot of cool stuff! I found three different roses, and some astilbe, and liatris, and a green and white striped hosta that had gotten lost. Other things we should keep--or at least not just throw away--include two different colors of monarda, some baptista, a neglected and yet still living clematis.

Things we do not want to keep? Ground hornets.

Yes, once again I ventured into a neglected portion of the yard and scared up a nest of ground hornets. The first indication that I found them was the excruciating pain in my ankle, where one of them landed and stung me, followed immediately by further stings on my feet, wrist, shoulder, back and leg. These are determined little suckers, too--unlike bees that sting and then fall off and die, these buggers cling and keep stinging.

So there I am, dancing around flapping my arms trying to dislodge stinging hornets--which doesn't work, by the way, but it's an instinctual reaction. So I got to look like an idiot while simultaneously not getting rid of any of the hornets. I had to flick them off my body, and now I am sitting inside, safely away from the remnants of the attack force, waiting for the burning sensation to abate.

So, maybe I'll just let the professionals take the job on from here.

Tending My Own Garden

We've been back from Europe for a week--as of today. As I look back, I am struck by something. Every one of my peak experiences--the best of the best--was time spent in a garden.

Sure--there were other incredible sights and experiences. Opera Garnier in Paris, Notre Dame Cathedral, York Minster. Going back to Hampton Court Palace was delightful, and the Tower of London is always great.

But the times when I was happiest, most at peace and most contented, were in gardens.

It helped that we had some spectacular weather, of course. Perfect summer days are rare, and are also perfect no matter where you are. But a perfect summer day spent at--for example--Petit Trianon is especially amazing.



Stratford-upon-Avon was another perfect day, and two more perfect gardens.

The gardens behind New Place, Shakespeare's last residence (now destroyed):



And the gardens of Anne Hathaway's Cottage.



Of course, I loved our trip, and I loved being there and seeing everything. But what I'm finding I miss the most are the lovely summer days in the gardens. Summer days like we are having right now--sunny, breezy, warm but not hot.

So while I would go back again like a shot, I think I might be able to keep the feel of our vacation here at home by renovating and maintaining our own garden. Voltaire may have been right about that.

Gardening!

So, Capt. Sweetie and I have been noodling about in the garden ever since we bought this house, and frankly, my learning curve has been tremendous. Being me, of course, gardening has first and foremost been about "where can I stick all the pretty flowers I Simply Must Have?"

Capt. Sweetie, being better reared than I, has despaired at my impulsiveness, and has been heard to plaintively cry "But we need to set the bones of the garden first!"

Bones? What bones? Who wants bones in a garden anyway? We want flowers. More specifically, We Want ROSES.

So, we've compromised. A little. We dig out flower beds in some form of logical layout--sort of--and I buy lots and lots of roses and plop them in.

Recently, the garden has suffered from some neglect. We inadvertently introduced a noxious little ground-gobbler that came with the heirloom peonies from Grandma's garden, for example, and the attempt to introduce a small stepping stone path through the lily bed was disastrous. "Oh look!" cried the bunnies in a square mile radius, "They've built us a salad bar!"

The construction of a new garage a couple of seasons ago has created a need for more major construction than either of us have time (Capt. Sweetie) or talent (me) to do. The slope of the lot means that the exit door to the garden from the garage is about 2.5 feet about ground.

We need stairs.

Since we need stairs, we also could really use a path we can shovel in the winter.

Oh, and there are some really ugly railway ties that we wouldn't miss.

And then there's the former blacktop landing pad area. . .and the . . .and. . .

Long story short--we hired us a landscape designer.

Now, we are dangerous clients--because we know too much about some stuff, not enough about other things, are highly opinionated, as well as indecisive and greedy about design. So, we've spent the last XX years trying to design a low cost, low maintenance Japanese meditation garden with Williamsburg garden design in an English cottage garden of French symmetry. With herbs. And roses. And more roses. And a water feature. And a baseball diamond for the kids.

In a 150' x 75' city lot.

Good luck.

Against all odds--she did it! Our designer totally got who we were and what we were trying to do, and she totally did something that we hadn't been able to accomplish on our own! Sure, that's why one hires professionals, but how often do they really come through like that?

So, using traditional materials (brick, blue stone) and a rectilinear design, she designed a stair to our garage, as well as a stair to the former blacktop area, while balancing the offset between the garage and the house steps. She put in a square patio at the base of the house steps, with clever notches at the corner to give it visual interest. She created a (geometrically perfect)circular lawn in the center of the back yard, with classic English garden planting on the edges, backed by evergreens that will screen out the undesirable views of the neighbors' yards. The former blacktop landing pad becomes a meditation garden, and the shady alley along the screened in porch becomes a Japanese style walkway between the front and back.

With a water feature.

It's amazing. It's wonderful. It's worth every penny. The Capt. and I are impressed, the kids like it, and we are all but drooling at the prospect of starting the project.

Sure, it's a little expensive, but I bet we can have a plant sale of all the plants that won't be in the final garden. That should cover it, right?