Hi friends and readers!
Last year escaped my abilities to write about changes in the garden. It was a lovely year for the garden, with some changes and expansion based on last year’s harvest and growing patterns.
Because the house needed to undergo a serious external siding renovation and painting, which took about 8 weeks for Randall to accomplish, most all of the old bushes along the backyard border side of the house were removed over the last two summers. Cannas were removed from other areas and planted in the sunniest ends of the border strip, along with many plantings of young hydrangeas, hostas, and Tradescantia into the shadier areas.
Farther out back I converted an area of fallow space (weed patch) into a productive melon, squash, and tomato space, also interspersed with more perennial foxgloves. Being able to start these sun lovers in May was a bonus, as it receives more sun early in the spring for longer daily periods. Come late August though, it starts to see more shade, just as did other parts of the yard, so they didn’t really have an extended season. Sigh…
Very mild fall and start into winter again, so who knows what the weather will be like this next gardening season….once again….seemingly the new norm of variability. Lack of rain is never helpful though, and we did get quite parched last summer. May we be blessed with cleaner skies (fewer chemtrails) and abundant, pure water in our future! May all garden Beings be safe, be they visiting bees and birds, or resident worms and soil inhabitants, or the elemental devas!
In truth, it wasn’t the easiest of years, as we had another year of wildfires and smoky skies that started earlier in summer, and then energy got focused on dealing with my father’s health decline just after he turned 99 in September. He finally released life on December 5th, after a relatively healthy life for his age, still living independently until the 3 months before he passed. As he had said, he wasn’t in a race to tie his own father, who passed at 103 years (!), and it was fine with him if he didn’t make it to 100; and so it was.
I probably owe my “gardening genes” to my dad, since his family had a fairly long history of farming until my grandpa sold his share of a farm in Idaho, and continued to work in a Boise Cascade lumber mill. (Neither my dad nor any of his 6 siblings had any interest in pursuing farming, and left for other destinations, largely Los Angeles.)
While I was a toddler growing up in Hollywood, he was the one who dabbled in planting roses strategically on our little hillside, and strawberries for a ground cover where grass would never grow, and he planted the huge hillside behind and slightly around our house with Algerian ivy to prevent mudslides (it worked for decades!) And for many years, until his old body didn’t like the strain, he would plant a few tomatoes each year in his backyard. Thanks for the memories Dad, and not making me do too many of those gardening chores at home, or I would have revolted! I learned at my own pace, in the right time and space…
Wishing every One a healthy, peaceful, and happy 2019 in your Lives and Gardens!
This is incredible Annie! Blessings, Caroline
Sorry Annie, I wanted to add to/edit comment I made before. I think about the “Incredible, Edible Todmorden” when I see your garden: https://ruthvalerio.net/tag/incredible-edible-todmorden/.
Oh, and your Dad reminds me of mountain climbers I knew in Alaska when I lived there: Vern Tejas (did base camp for Denali and the Seven Summits), etc. He sounds like he was a really interesting person.
I am just beginning to get back together with (LOO) Elementals and Nature Spirits to heal myself. I was with them a lot after I went deaf (I can sense and hear them and sometimes see them), but had a parting of ways when I moved to White Mountains in AZ (UFOs galore).
It was dark influences that got in the way. Anyway, I love your wonderful garden (despite rain and clay soil), Caroline