Pining for Autumn

As the autumnal equinox approaches, I’m pining for fall colors and cooler days. October is my favorite time of year, and it’s fast approaching. Sometimes, I miss the fun we had growing pumpkins when my boys were young, but with my sons launched, not to mention back-to-back years of squash bug infestations, I’m happy to leave it to the professional growers.

Also, I’m out of room. When you love gardening, a patch of exposed earth is a planting opportunity. I’ve filled pots, borders, raised beds, and the surrounding soil with living things. Potted succulents line the deck, the back steps, and the walkway leading to our back gate. I once joked that it would be fun to buy the house behind us, remove the fence, and extend the garden. Ha! A gardener can dream.

We have a decent tomato crop for the first time in several years. I was starting to think I’d lost my gardening mojo, but the cherry tomatoes are sweet and delicious, not to mention prolific.

I spent several hours last weekend taming the garden paths from the rapidly spreading nepeta and an annual called a 4’0clock. They fill the beds quickly and spill over on the path. The nepeta is a garden darling favored by cats, birds, bees, and paper wasps.

Last weekend, I spotted a mantis near the catmint. I coaxed him onto a stick and relocated him to a higher elevation for his safety.

Earlier in the year, we hired someone to replace the sideyard walkway, a project on my list for two years. When I met with a company specializing in hardscape to discuss our needs, the sales rep lacked the imagination and flexibility to do the job, prompting me to put it on hold again. The rep said they couldn’t repurpose the flagstone but would instead break it up and haul it away, providing their own material in its place. Go figure?

Fortuitously, a handyman we know reached out looking for work, so we hired him to do the job. It looks great.

The goal for the sideyard was one of safety as much as aesthetics: the stepping stones in place were small and uneven, presenting a tripping hazard. The ground cover that grew on either side looked great in the winter but dried to a crisp under the summer sun. I missed the green, so I added a few potted plants along the new path and hung a botanical print on the gate to create a focal interest. It feels good to check this project off the list.

Most of our spring plantings have done well, but we misjudged the placement of the Hostas.

They prefer shade, and we thought they would be ok, but the excess heat early this year and the sun’s rotation exposed them to more than they could handle. We’ll dig them up next month and hope they’ll survive a transplant to a shadier spot. I’m always learning.

I’ve missed blogging these past few months. August took on a life of its own. My younger sister sustained a foot wound on her wheelchair when a caregiver smashed her exposed heel on the footrest. The wound progressed to stage 3, requiring a trip to the emergency room and a three-week stay at a skilled nursing facility. I brought her kitty home to stay with us while Sharon healed. My sister was in pain for several days, but rest and good care helped. She was able to return to her assisted living home after three weeks and continues to receive care from a visiting nurse at home.

I had an appendicitis scare the Friday after Sharon went home. My doctor ordered an abdominal CT scan due to lower right abdominal pain. She thought it was my appendix. The on-call doctor called me that evening and said they saw something on the scan (a thickening of the appendix), and he sent me to the ER to have a surgeon make the call. I spent the night at Stanford Hospital, expecting surgery in the morning.

Saturday morning the on-call surgeon took a wait-and-see perspective, and I went home on antibiotics. The findings were atypical: My white blood cell count fell in the normal range, my pain was minimal, and I wasn’t running a fever. The surgeon suggested I try the antibiotic approach, and they gave me the warning signs to look for should things get worse. They did not.

Our son Chris managed the three cats, and friends came up and brought me home the following day.

It was a scary night. Mike was still in Argentina, and I couldn’t talk to him till the following day because of the five-hour time difference. He was already asleep by the time they admitted me. He was sad to be so far away in my time of need, but it all worked out.

Good riddance to August, and hello, early autumn days.

Misty Morning Musings

A misty morning fog settled over San Jose on Monday, a nice change of pace for this time of year and a gift to the otherwise dry garden. Autumn arrives in slow motion here in the Bay Area, so it’s strange to think that our winter solstice is just a few weeks away. The beautiful oranges, yellows, and reds of autumn are everywhere.

Mike has fully recovered from COVID-19 and is on a business trip again. Fortunately, his trip to Las Vegas is only three days long, just an hour away, and in the same time zone. I flew to Vegas with him Saturday morning, and our youngest son joined us for a 24-hour visit. We attended Cirque du Soleil, something we all enjoy, and a walk-through of the Conservatory & Botanical Gardens at the Bellagio Hotel.

“Each season, the enormously talented Horticulture and Engineering teams transform the 14,000-square-foot Botanical Gardens into a showcase of inspiring sights, sounds, scents and colors. Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter are all featured—along with a special display for Lunar New Year. When the seasons change so do the displays. The talented Conservatory team changes out the design and also replants and repurposes as much of the living plant material as possible, further celebrating Mother Nature and our commitment to sustainability.” –Bellagio Website

This year’s holiday theme is the Nutcracker. It opened the day before we arrived.

The designer creates a magical display with real trees, plants, and flowers. A model train ran through the brightly lit and inviting displays, and though crowded, I enjoyed the Christmas magic and time with my family. Las Vegas isn’t my scene, but it allowed us to be together.

We walked five miles on Saturday in between meals and the show. We had a strange incident at dinner, which put a damper on the meal, and we’re still unclear what happened. A few seconds after they served our meal, a security officer walked up to the side of our table and stood within a shoulder-tapping distance of my 23-year-old son. We expected the guard to say something, but he just stood there. A second security guard arrived, and we finally understood that they were “back up” for an incident playing out at a nearby table. Everyone fell silent, knowing something was amiss but not knowing what. My son overheard the security detail threaten a misdemeanor arrest if the party of four didn’t leave the restaurant. After some fanfare, they finally complied, but everyone felt unsettled.

I’m glad to be back home doing mundane things like raking leaves and laundry. Dorothy had it right; there is no place like home.

We’ve decked our Christmas tree with baubles from our travels, gifts from friends, and hand-made treasures from the boy’s grammar school years. New this season is a pair of marbled paper ornaments from our time in Florence and a funny cat decoration from my friend, Mary.

I bought branches of Christmas greenery from a nearby garden center and mixed in lavender from our garden, filling vases and glass jars for maximum effect. Soon, my family of four will be home. The nest is ready.

Autumn Days and Anniversaries

It’s the autumn equinox here in the northern hemisphere, or in simpler terms, the first day of fall. It’s also our wedding anniversary.

Today (September 23) sees the 2019 autumn equinox, the moment when the planet’s northern hemisphere swaps with the southern hemisphere to become the one furthest from the sun.

Autumn is a good time to reflect, especially in the garden. While the perennials remain robust year-round, summer annuals are closing up shop.

We had a second year of disappointing tomatoes. Despite my best efforts planting the EarthBoxes with fresh soil and fertilizer, moving them to a new location and ensuring they got full sun, production was blah. My garden mojo took a hit.

end of season tomato Don’t be fooled. It looks juicy, but the sweetness has gone.

This stripey variety took months to set fruit. While they look interesting, I didn’t care for the thicker texture. All in all, one plant produced half a dozen tomatoes. Sigh.

stripes tomatoes A trio of Stripey Tomatoes

This was also my first season without pumpkins. We’ve relied entirely on the squirrels to plant them each year, even if their planting methods are unconventional. By the time I fully noticed, it was too late to plant on my own.

I had brief hope. After amending the mix in a planting box with heavy, sandy soil, a few pumpkin plants appeared. It seemed unlikely that they would amount to much, but while I was traveling in July they took hold. Alas, they didn’t establish in time. Although the plants became vines and proffered a few blooms, there was no time for setting fruit.

spent pumpkin vines Spent pumpkin flowers and vines along with other pruning debris

On a brighter note, I received this gorgeous yellow calla lily in a pot last year. Mike transplanted it for me in the front garden and it’s spreading its proverbial wings.

Yellow Canna lily, a thank you gift from FDC

It’s flowered twice and is now showing off its interesting seed pods as the plant goes dormant.

Calla lily seed pod Calla lily seed pod

Our garden is densely planted now, requiring careful thought when a new plant joins the mix. This calla lives in the shadow of the Magnolia tree, not far from the deck. I love the cheerful display.

Nepeta or catmint Nepeta going to seed

Nepeta, also known as catnip or catmint reseeds every year. It’s an herb, pleasing to cats, and humans alike. It produces a subtle scent in the garden unless of course, you’re a cat.

cat and nepeta Tessa enjoying the nepeta
white cat and nepeta Mouse the cat lounging on the nepeta

 

 

tuxedo cat in nepeta Lindy sleeping near the nepeta

Our cats become quite possessive of the plant near the patio, though Mouse likes to visit the plant in the side yard as well. We all have our favorites.

As for anniversaries, I married this wonderful man 24 years ago today.

Celebrating then and now (Went Brothers Winery, Livermore | Winchester Mystery House fundraiser, San Jose)

It was the first day of autumn that year as we wed on the grounds of Wente Brother’s winery in Livermore. The day went by in a blur, so I’m grateful for the photographs that help solidify the memories. I’m grateful for Mike every day and for our life together.

I’m grateful for you, too, dear reader, for continuing to show up and read my posts.

Rear Window

Have you seen the movie Rear Window, the 1954 Alfred Hitchcock classic? It’s one of my personal favorites.

While I’m happy to report that nothing too suspicious is going on outside my rear window, I’ve found myself thinking about Jimmy Stewart’s character, a photographer convalescing with a broken foot. Through the view of his rear window, he gradually pieces together a murder.

As my surgery-addled brain clears and my energy slowly returns, I’m feeling the limitations of my restricted mobility.

In the movie, Stewart’s character Jeff starts to suspect the neighbor across the way of killing and then burying his own wife. At one point he tells the detective:

“Those two yellow zinnias at the end, they’re shorter now. Now since when do flowers grow shorter over the course of two weeks? Something’s buried there.”

This got me thinking. There is something suspicious outside my rear window. It looks like a small sinkhole to the front of a newly planted shrub. Like Stewart, I’m unable to investigate on my own. I waited for Mike to check it out. He topped up the recess with a handful of soil, but the next day the sinkhole was back.

It’s quite possible that I’m spending too much time in my head.

In any event, I miss my garden and my mobility.

San Jose summers are too hot for daytime gardening. Mid autumn is where the action is. I long to be out there raking leaves, pruning branches, and tidying the garden for the winter ahead. I love the way the crisp air reddens my cheeks and reminds me that I’m one with the elements. The bouquet of autumn decay centers my soul.

This is the time of year when my garden gloves wear out. Even the toughest gloves are no match for wet earth and rough leaves. Once the fingertips have worn through, it’s time to put them to rest, thanking them for a job well done.

As the garden rests, part of me comes alive. I spent the first six years of my life in Ontario, Canada, a home with four distinct seasons. I think those changing seasons are part of my early imprinting. Autumn in San Jose connects me to my early sense of home.

As I heal from surgery and sit this season out, here’s the view from my rear window.

hydrangea cranberry

This blushing pink Hydrangea darkens to a beautiful cranberry before dying back for the winter. I’m looking down on it from our living room window

split view

Splitting the view: indoor shelves display assorted succulents; outdoors, Abutilon grows along the fence with dollops of ground cover and a peek-a-boo Hydrangea

ultra violet decal

These window decals “contain a unique component that reflects ultraviolet light, which is brilliantly visible to birds, to alert them of glass without obscuring your view.”

pair of hummingbirds at feeder

Ana’s hummingbird has a drink at the feeder while a competitor swoops in for a turn

alysum, geranium, begonia and flax

Foreground: Alyssum, Pink Geranium and Begonia. Background: New Zealand Flax

Falling for Halloween

Monday is August 31st.

Guess what that means?

Halloween is only two months away! October 31st heralds the arrival of wee trick-or-treaters and the heady, intoxicating fall air.

I’m ready.

If you’ve been hanging out with me for a while you’ll know that autumn is my favorite time of year. I love growing and decorating with pumpkins, planning or attending costume parties, helping my son “spookify” the front yard and tossing treats into wee little bags on Halloween night.  The changing of the seasons is more of a slow burn in California. The days shorten and the stale summer air finally gives way to the smog-free version I long for. By the calendar, autumn arrives in late September, but it’s not till mid-October that we start to notice the difference.

In the garden, the signs are everywhere.

Lone Pumpkin Turns Orange

The pantyhose trick is keeping teeth-gnashers at bay while nature takes care of the rest.

Pumpkin protected by pantyhose

Pumpkin protected by pantyhose

Did you know that pumpkins turn orange for the same reason leaves do? As the days grow shorter, “the green pigment, necessary for photosynthesis, degrades and the carotenoids are revealed, causing the pumpkin to change color to shades of orange, red and yellow.”¹

Pretty cool, eh?

Pumpkin Shell Survives Composting

It’s true! A few small, late season pumpkins avoided last season’s squash bug onslaught. They were too hard to carve, so I lined them up on the paved wall instead. They remained a point of interest for many months, subject to occasional rearranging by the neighborhood day care kids. It was months before the snails showed up. Then one by one they started to rot. I tossed this one in the compost bin assuming it would also turn to mush.

hollow pumpkin shell

Small pumpkin shell survives the compost pile

When I upended the compost for my sheet mulching project, out rolled the shell. I’ve dusted it off, checked for invading bugs, and brought it indoors. The decorating possibilities are endless and simply looking at it makes me smile.

A (Not so Itsy) Spider Weaves a Wondrous Web

Nothing says Halloween better than a scary-looking spider web.

garden spider web

I’m glad I found this web with my camera and not my face

spider web side view

Spider web in profile

Am I right?

You can buy fake ones at the local Halloween store, or you might get lucky and have one custom-built in the garden.

My hat is off to the photographers of the world that capture beautiful shots of spiders in webs. I could focus on the spider or the web but never both. There is a good chance I’ve offended her, since she took down her web by early afternoon when I wasn’t looking.

Beware.

Halloween is coming soon. I. Can’t. Wait!

¹Source: Children’s Museum Indianapolis

Freaky Friday: The Garden’s Dark Underbelly

It’s not all Sweet Alyssum and roses.  Every garden has a dark side. I’m sure it’s no accident that the spooky celebrations of Halloween coincide with the decay of fall.

Use your imagination and come with me as we travel the more sinister side of the garden.

bat wings

“Bat Wings”…or decaying leaf?

Spider in the gravel…look closely.

Rats Gone Bad

hollowed orange

Hallowed orange or hollow orange? You decide.

Tree RAt

Tree Rat or Field Mouse? Helping himself to an orange.

Not What They Seem

choking vine

The Choking Vine? Snaking and staking the trellis.

mottled leaf

Urban Decay

shrunken head

Shrunken Head?

stink bug

I’m a Stink bug. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Cavernous Lair

Something Wicked This way Comes

Something Wicked This Way Comes: Black Widow Haven

Halloween Countdown

Cat on Pumpkin

It’s The Great Pumpkin, Lindy-Lu!

Garden Sunshine: September Winding Down

A special thank you to all my gentle readers for your comments and advice. The birdhouse gourd vine will stay through the winter. I”ll keep you posted on how things go. Late this week I noticed one of the gourds had doubled in size. Woo-hoo! What would a gardening gal do without this community?

Speaking of community, many thanks to gardensunshine for including me in her list of Beautiful Bloggers. I appreciate your kind words  I’ve been following her five-part series as she transforms her “shed” from drab to fab. Honestly, it’s more rustic house if you ask me and I’m positively envious of all that space. The shed even has a bit of history:

 It is believed to be one of the oldest buildings in our county. From what we can tell it was used as a house or bunker for the men working in the clay pit making clay bricks around 1890 and earlier. It is a really neat crooked building and as we found out when we power washed it full of water, it leans heavily to the left.

Historic Garden Shed

Garden Sunshine’s Historic Garden Shed (before)

Pop on over to read her five-part series, and to see the beautiful transformation in words and pictures. It was lovingly restored.

Back at gardening nirvana, we’re in for an early fall heat wave, with temps floating in the low nineties. I’m glad I got the winter garden in when I did. It’s a happy garden too, if that’s possible. The worm bin is a bustling place, thriving on kitchen scraps and leaves.The composter is “cooking” away, making organic mulch for next summer’s garden. I covered the seeds with wire and mesh, to ensure tiny critters give them a chance to grow.  Lindy thought it was a new litter box, so I had to put that to rest as well.

October is almost here. I’m so excited.

Autumunal Equinox: Love for all Seasons

Wedding day

Fall leaves, summer flowers, happy bride and groom

Summer officially turned to fall today (September 22nd). The autumnal equinox marks the time of year when day and night are of equal length. It’s also a personal milestone. I married the love of my life on the first day of autumn 17 years ago. Autumn landed on September 23rd that year, but no matter.  Symbolically, the days feel like one and the same.

We both share a love of the outdoors, so exchanging vows on the grounds of the elegant Wente Brothers Winery was perfect. When I walked down the “aisle,” it was actually a grassy courtyard.  We held hands and declared our love beneath a flower-laden arch. I still have a small pressed flower from my tossed bouquet.

After one night in San Francisco we honeymooned along the Mendocino coast. We hiked local beaches, rode the Skunk Train amid redwoods and toured a botanical garden hugging the coast.

Nature is a great equalizer. Seasons change, life ebbs and flows. The majesty of the earth brings a uniting force to bear.  As the autumnal equinox ushers in shorter days and longer nights, I’m grateful for the love in my life; grateful for my love in all seasons.

Mendocino Coast

Home along the Mendocino Coast

wild hens Mendocino

Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens

Mendocino

Mr. Wonderful in Magnificent Mendocino

California Autumn

I’m originally from Canada, so it took me awhile to appreciate the subtleties of a California autumn. Our boys wore shorts on Halloween night and I walked home from a party earlier that week in a sleeveless costume. In Ontario our Mom insisted on coats, even though we grumbled at the injustice of our “spoiled” ensembles.

We planted a carefully placed Chinese Pistache (Pistacia chinensis) as a reminder of this lovely season. It gradually produces ocher, amber and other golden shades, before the wind sweeps the leaves to the grass below. Our lone tree sits on our suburban lot, but it reminds me of my early roots. In my imagination our tree resides in a New England forest, surrounded by others dropping leaves on the earthen floor. Our Pistache is easily viewed from my kitchen sink and my home office, a wistful reminder of another time.

I do love spring, with the warming sun and wonderful rebirth, but in my heart of hearts, its autumn that firmly takes hold.

Chinese Pistache (Pistacia chinensis)

Pumpkin Bounty: Last Call

True to their genetic roots, our pumpkin vines are coming to a natural end. The leaves, once vibrant, can now be crushed into a fine powder, dusting the garden floor. The vines snap like celery, hollow stems that spent the season bringing energy to the fruit. From seed to pumpkin in 90 days. It never gets old!

We harvested 25 pumpkins this season, with just a few young stragglers left on the vines. Nights are cooler; fall beckons. We gardeners, however, never give up hope. We’ll keep on tending the baby fruit until the end. Our crop produced several varieties this year, a few planned and at least one surprise: a blue-green Jarrahdale.

From Seed to Fruit

My son harvested the last great pumpkin, a hearty, healthy orange. We have a table in our entry way, now laden with fruit. As the season draws near, we’ll set them out along the stone wall in the front garden. My husband will then carve the larger ones with pride and they will finish the season as Jack O’ Lanterns, admired by the plethora of families that come calling on Halloween. We’ll collect and dry the seeds to plant the following year and the cycle begins anew.

Good Side/Bad Side: Hard to Decide

“I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.”

-Henry David Thoreau
 
ΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦΦ
 
“There are three things I have learned never to discuss with people: religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin.”
 
– Linus by Charles M. Schulz

Orange, White and Blue