Early morning, chilly but clear, and a woman wanders among the amazing plant displays at the Portland Nursery. She is alert with coffee AND in possession of a birthday gift-certificate.
Another clematis? I think not. No room in the clematis inn. Something for the shady fence though. Climbing hydrangea Moonlight? Cell phone search finds a post from Carolyn’s Shade Garden. Carolyn totally recommends this vine. Deal done.
I love it.
I planted it here, with lots of fence in both directions for coming seasons, shady sun one side and shady shade on the other.
But wait, there’s more–
A sudden deep subconscious undefined need demands purchase of a concrete owl. (No, I do NOT know why.) The sweet nursery employee with a British accent cheerfully loads up the very heavy owl, along with what I now think of as Carolyn’s vine. And except for the owl kind of sliding around in the Insight’s hatchback during sharp corners (dog being also in the back, it made him a little nervous) we got home okay and didn’t get arrested or anything, having just updated the car license stickers after a police warning about the December expiration. (Time flies.)
Owl in his new habitat:
I know he looks a little stressed–the sweet man at the nursery suggested Prozac which I guess is what they use professionally with anxious statuary in general but I may try sprinkling on a little rum instead since that’s what I have in the medicine cabinet.
But back to the gardens.
So Alistair in Scotland once recommended the Burkwood viburnum, which I bought and almost killed through dehydration and then moved, and this year it bloomed.
The flowers are the softest pink opening fully to white and the scent is unique but wonderful like lilacs with an aftertaste of marshmallow and plums. I love it –thanks Alistair!– (I didn’t really eat it).
In case you are wondering how my pine tree bed expansion is coming along I will report that I have done nothing.
Moving on to the vegetable garden, it came to my attention that my VGBP (Vegetable Garden Beautification Project) had fallen prey to evil grasses, death and weeds, a powerful pack of adversaries.
Immediately if not sooner I put on my Super Garden-Woman cape, and I put Max’s little Super Garden-Dog cape on him too, and we decided this was a case for cardboard and sawdust, a kind of abbreviated version of lasagna gardening.
First I brought out the loss: a Ninebark shrub that received too much sun and too little water. RIP.
Next I shall attempt to delineate my version of the complex lasagna bed process.
Slap down a bunch of flattened cardboard while saying “take that you grassy opportunists” then toss on all the sawdust that’s been accumulating in Mr O’s shop sawdust collector machine…
…which I carefully extracted from what is not just the compost pile but rather the compost district or perhaps the compost county— honestly I cannot even photograph it for you for lack of a wide angle lens plus it’s embarrassing.
Overall this layering process was disturbingly reminiscent of the “ghost tour” of York (England) I attended once, where the guide described a woman who was executed in the street by being flattened under a weighted board. (There is simply no part of life that is guilt-free, so far as I can tell.)