Being Good and Bad in the Garden

Our yard (front and back) is in bloom and we have all sorts of flowers, herbs, and veggies coming up.  The grass is thick and green and the couple of bare spots where the overgrown bushes used to be have now been reseeded and they are now sprouting tiny green slivers of Kelly green cover.  The vine maple is in full leaf and is a pleasure to both look at and to lay under in an afternoon hammock snooze

I woke up early Saturday morning and took some pictures of the rhododendrons in the front and various sprouty things in the back just to document the current state of affairs for some friends and family who have been asking.  Progress in the yard redo is slower than we had wanted – mostly due to us being overly ambitious for the first year in the new house, my own inaction, a screwed up shoulder, and our convoluted schedule.  We had planned to have the garden boxes in, but it doesn’t look like they are going to make it this season as I am just running out of time and more projects inside the house have appeared.  For now we are growing our kitchen herbs, garlic, and tomatoes in planters/containers and will expand that little by little for the next month to include peppers, three additional tomatoes, two more blueberries, and some yellow squash.  I had hoped to have the apple, lemon, and cherry trees taken care of, but as yet the Lapin cherry is the only thing that is growing roots.  The raspberries and thorn-less-blackberries are chugging along and I have started tying the canes to galvanized wire on the fence.  Someone is going to have cool fresh raspberries in his cereal come June J

The plan for our front yard is currently going through a bit of a shift, mostly because of the neighbors to the north of us:  It is a rent house with two 20-something guys (referred to by some of the other neighbors as Bevis and Butthead) who are in a metal band,  work(-ish) in construction, and are living what could be called an extended adolescence.  Loud band practice at 1:30 AM, wafting pot smoke, firecrackers in the middle of the night, beer bottles on the sidewalk, grass two feet high, trash all over the front stoop, trucks occasionally parked in the yard, etc…  They are nice enough guys to talk to, but we don’t want to look at that every day.   So, we have left the two 10’ tall rhodies on the north fence until either they move or accidentally burn their house down in the middle of the night while lighting the bong.  The Belgium fence of heirloom apples and roses is on hold until then.  Additionally, I had wanted to rip out the two rhododendron bushes in the front and replace them with red and white azaleas – Laurel made me wait until they bloomed and she was right, they are beautiful and they get to stay.  We are going to thin them some after they are finished blooming and will plant just two white azaleas on each front corner of the house.

I have been watering and potting and weeding in the back a little when I get home in the afternoons and this is exactly the bliss that I had imagined and wanted when we put the offer in on Casa d’ Talley in June of last year.  Gathering sticks and string for our nest…

Change of Address

My neighbors on both sides seem to be farming dandelions.  They have to be, as there is no other explanation of how every square inch of their yards are covered with the cancerous weed.  Is there some sort of market for them that I am oblivious to? I don’t think it would be too neighborly of me to mow their yards or spray gallons of Round Up or burn their grass from sidewalk to steps so that they can start over…  No, that might be seen as pushy/controlling/crazy and there might be some legal/state mental hospital sort of repercussions.  I am going to have to just keep weeding and patrolling Casa d’ Talley and let the neighbors cultivate what they will – even if it does eventually drive me insane.

I hate Dandelions – HATE!  Seeing one of the little bastards pop up in my yard is like finding a zit on prom night, a dent in a new car, or balls on your hot new girlfriend.  I take it is as a personal affront when one of their little flowers spring open within the boundary of my fence.  They don’t try to hide under the hedge or behind a rhododendron, oh no, the fvckers make sure to sprout right at the gate or next to the steps where they know it will affect me the most – sacrificing one of their brethren Taraxacum officinal in hope that I get so pissed that my blood pressure pops a vain and I keel over in the yard, my last sight being their spiky green leaves.  I know in my heart of hearts that when I pass from this earth there is a good chance that my own personal Hell will have be carpeted with them and there will be a significant populations of soul eating pigeons as well.

I am going to formally change my address to “The house with the red door marooned in a continent of dandelions, Seattle, WA, 98XXX.”  Fvcking weeds!