I’d been warned to give my blueberry bushes plenty of space, so they don’t stress each other by being planted too close. Netting will likely be necessary to protect next years fruit.ĭensity seems to be something I have no knack for. I’ve ordered more wire and stakes for the vines to use. I’ve a thornless marionberry I’m especially pleased with. Raspberries are gaining height and putting on good size. I’ve revived much neglected roses that are now scaling new heights on posts and wires I’ve constructed. This is the plant world theory of opposites attract. I think the two trees might appreciate one another for their being so out of sink with most all the other plants in the yard. I’ll put it near the Meyer lemon tree that tends to ripen its fruit in the last days of autumn. This tree blossoms in early spring and loses its leaves by early July. Buckeye grow wild in the neighborhood, but I’ve had no luck sprouting one. Madrones are notorious for being difficult and this is believed to be a perfect fit since I am so difficult myself. On my short list of indigenous trees to plant are madrone and buckeye. I have taken a stinging bit of criticism for bringing this specimen 20 miles further inland than is native to this plant, but so far the glorious Montara manzanita likes what it sees. This manzanita hales from the coastal hills of San Mateo County near Montara. I’m waiting for this native bush to reveal itself further. I have potted a manzanita that I will Banzai. Like the pile of rocks, I seem to have a knack for picking the perfect place for many of my plants to struggle. I’m getting the hang of understanding that under certain conditions each plant will thrive should their needs be met. None of these preferences were known by this novice gardener. The ferns have been moved and are happy in their new neighborhood beneath the oaks. Our red Mandeville we hope will climb the new lattice work I’ve built. The house wren in my yard sees the futility in my actions and flitters about experiencing a deep knowing that this rock piler can’t possibly be a more intelligent species. This appears to be harder to do than simply busting my butt moving a pile of rocks one more time. I’m trying to imagine changing without having to move a pile of rocks. Seems as if things change and the rocks mark the exact location of where the next changes are located. I’ve a pile of rocks I’ve promised to move on last time, after having moved them the last time on three previous occasions. I’ve a whole furrow prepared for collard greens. Pole beans are coming up, the kale is not, the spinach hesitates.
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I sent a letter to their agent asking they not return we’re in the middle of a different scene from a different movie and it doesn’t include these rogue invaders. Karma because I’ve worked with chickens suggests my fate might well have already been sealed.Īnts made a dash for water at the kitchen sink. There are lifecycles I hold in awe, this tormenting by egg laying is not on my list of things I would wish to try should I return reincarnated as a hen. The two are concerned over my reincarnationĬhickens next door, in the back, the fence is wire, we can see each other, agreeing by eyesight there is much to recommend, we have a thing for one another, according to my gypsy king philosopher predictions the roost and will of the flock is on my side. Vegan paradox and Buddhist inspired directive to first do no harm, that it would be best if you do not execute the voles has by unanimous consent been voted down. Attempts to repel by castor oil have met with better than good results- but still they plunder the landscape like Robinhood’s, the rath of the king is soon. Nothing about his untidiness will change. One day the photinia willing we will not peer into the disorganized cerebral cortex of our neighbor’s procrastinations.
My neighbor no longer speaks to us without great discomfort, we planted photinia to remedy the view of his deferred maintenance. Acorn woodpeckers are beside themselves chattering away in the live oaks they are so fond of making home. Crows have been absent leaving me to wonder where they’ve taken off to. The Japanese maple in the front yard thinks me to be stingy, whereas in the backyard this red bark maple imagines I am a saint. The Chinese mail carrier knows this misfit resident by first name. Hibiscus flowers are a powerful antioxidant
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