Garden diary
Feb. 21st, 2014 04:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceIt's a lovely gentle summer spring depth-of-winter day in California, temperature in the early seventies and a delightful sun, bees deep in the flowering rosemary, birdies in all directions.
This morning I went to my favourite local garden store, Common Ground in Palo Alto. It's not a nursery, but they do sell seedlings; it's not a hardware store, but they do sell tools (it's where I got my long-handled English garden fork, by special order); it's not a bookstore, but they do sell books. And fertiliser, and pots, and seeds, and all sorts of whatever.
This afternoon, I have been mostly outside enjoying that spring-green freshness. I planted up half a dozen strawberries, and found that the established plants already in situ have flowers and even teeny-tiny hints of strawberry already. I planted broccoli rabe, and paused to cherish my kale. I planted a new lavender to replace that which was and is no more (which I assert was assassinated by the accursed bermudagrass, which I vow and swear to destroy this year). And half a dozen new plants in the herb garden - thyme because the old one's getting woody, a basil that might survive the chilly nights under a bit of fleece, a mint because I cannot keep mint alive (I know, I know: what's wrong with me?), parsley because parsley. And my tarragon's coming back after I thought it was dead, and the boysenberries maybe also; and the bay tree has had a baby, an apparently independent shoot thrusting up a couple of inches from its parent, and most welcome to. And the sugar snap peas are in flower, and I just love this time of year.
Next up, pruning shears. I swear by all that I hold not at all holy that I will cut back the rosemary, even though it is in flower. I had meant to do it while the plant lay dormant, but, y'know. February in California: what's dormancy? People assure me that it will not die; I'm just sorry to disappoint the bees. But if I don't do it, it will destroy us all. That's just a given. Also the sage needs cutting back, and the oregano ditto. I really hate cutting herbs for any reason other than culinary, but here it really does have to happen. (And not just here: friends in England had to give their bay tree a radical pruning, to get light into the bedroom window; and we ended up sending hundreds, maybe thousands of pounds'-worth of fresh bay leaves to the dump, for want of any practical way of taking them to market.)
Mostly when I go out the back, the birdies flee the feeder; but it was nice to see bold individuals coming back while I dug the strawberry bed. I have plans to sit out there with a camera and a zoom lens, and take actual photos by which I may actually identify them. This current combination of ignorance and bad eyesight is just sooo frustrating. Also, I bought a guide to local butterflies in the garden store. Technically this one's for Monterey rather than the Bay Area, but they did very honestly note that it's exactly the same contents at half the price, so hey.
This morning I went to my favourite local garden store, Common Ground in Palo Alto. It's not a nursery, but they do sell seedlings; it's not a hardware store, but they do sell tools (it's where I got my long-handled English garden fork, by special order); it's not a bookstore, but they do sell books. And fertiliser, and pots, and seeds, and all sorts of whatever.
This afternoon, I have been mostly outside enjoying that spring-green freshness. I planted up half a dozen strawberries, and found that the established plants already in situ have flowers and even teeny-tiny hints of strawberry already. I planted broccoli rabe, and paused to cherish my kale. I planted a new lavender to replace that which was and is no more (which I assert was assassinated by the accursed bermudagrass, which I vow and swear to destroy this year). And half a dozen new plants in the herb garden - thyme because the old one's getting woody, a basil that might survive the chilly nights under a bit of fleece, a mint because I cannot keep mint alive (I know, I know: what's wrong with me?), parsley because parsley. And my tarragon's coming back after I thought it was dead, and the boysenberries maybe also; and the bay tree has had a baby, an apparently independent shoot thrusting up a couple of inches from its parent, and most welcome to. And the sugar snap peas are in flower, and I just love this time of year.
Next up, pruning shears. I swear by all that I hold not at all holy that I will cut back the rosemary, even though it is in flower. I had meant to do it while the plant lay dormant, but, y'know. February in California: what's dormancy? People assure me that it will not die; I'm just sorry to disappoint the bees. But if I don't do it, it will destroy us all. That's just a given. Also the sage needs cutting back, and the oregano ditto. I really hate cutting herbs for any reason other than culinary, but here it really does have to happen. (And not just here: friends in England had to give their bay tree a radical pruning, to get light into the bedroom window; and we ended up sending hundreds, maybe thousands of pounds'-worth of fresh bay leaves to the dump, for want of any practical way of taking them to market.)
Mostly when I go out the back, the birdies flee the feeder; but it was nice to see bold individuals coming back while I dug the strawberry bed. I have plans to sit out there with a camera and a zoom lens, and take actual photos by which I may actually identify them. This current combination of ignorance and bad eyesight is just sooo frustrating. Also, I bought a guide to local butterflies in the garden store. Technically this one's for Monterey rather than the Bay Area, but they did very honestly note that it's exactly the same contents at half the price, so hey.