July 29, 2026 by Born To Organize

A Quiet Afternoon

A Bluejay disturbed the unusual quiet this afternoon, loudly telling off our resident feline, Tessa, who was lounging on the cool stone walkway and, as far as I could tell, minding her own business. Nevertheless, I invited her indoors with a treat so the Jay could avail himself of a drink from the fountain.

Mike has been working from home 90% of the time since Covid, and a year ago our young son moved home with his 70-pound, boisterous dog Juneau, a Husky/German Shepherd mix, while he looked for a job. At the time, we still had two cats, three if you count my sister’s aging cat, Queen B. Sharon’s kitty lived with us while my sister convalesced at a skilled nursing facility. Queen B has passed, followed by my sweet kitty Mouse last October. My son found a job and now housing in San Francisco and moved last month, so our household has contracted to two adults and one mellow kitty.

A smiling dog sitting in front of a colorful hydrangea bush with pink and blue flowers. — Juneau in the garden

I love my husband, my sons, the pooch, and the cats. Still, I’m thoroughly enjoying this day of solitude. I’ve been puttering in the garden, watching the bees traverse the nepeta flowers, discovering tomatoes on the plants that the nightly visitors have missed, and marveling at how quickly things grow at this time of year.

To my delight and surprise, a lone pumpkin vine is trailing along the back walkway. It’s been flowering and dropping spent flowers as they are wont to do, and eventually a male and a female flower form, and if you’re lucky, magic happens, and a tiny pumpkin appears. The first pumpkin is now the size of a baseball, and a second one is forming down the vine. These garden surprises make me smile. We grew pumpkins for years, but gave up after back-to-back years of nasty squash bug infestations left me disheartened. Fingers crossed.

Several annuals have run amok, including Nepeta, four-o’clocks, and the pair of tomato plants that went into the ground in May. We enjoyed delicious tomatoes from the beefsteak plant and more from the cherry tomato, but then fruit production slowed, and the vines grew, towered, and partially fell over. Even restaking and tying back proved futile, so today I pulled up a steel garden bench, more decorative than seat-worthy, to offer additional support.

Four o'clocks (Mirabilis jalapa) — Four o’clocks (Mirabilis jalapa)

Mike spotted a gorgeous dragonfly perched on a stem, so I ran for my phone and snapped a few pics. It resembles a flower from a distance. Several butterflies passed through, but alas, not a single photo. The lizards are active, and for the first time I saw one jump to catch a bug.

A pair of mourning doves hang out on the street light, then move in for a drink at the bird bath on our deck. We had a pigeon visit our garden for a week, so tame that I felt sure it had a home. One of my neighbors joked that it had adopted me.

Our sunflowers are starting to go to seed, but they performed well. We had to run out and tie them to a trellis a few weeks back when heavy winds blew through, but they remained upright. The squirrels are surely waiting in the wings.

For a while now, I’ve wanted to create a water source for the bees.

A honey bee collecting nectar from a white and purple flower amidst green foliage. — Western Honey Bee

I see suggestions every year, but never quite got around to it. It was simple to create. I washed out a heavy planting pot and an equally weighted saucer and stacked them in the middle of the nepeta. The bees love the tiny white flowers and spend a lot of time there.

The trick is to create a shallow bowl of water and a smooth surface to land on. I used clay shapes from my stash of vase weights, and added a decorative glass cat for interest (mine, not theirs). I tucked a water bottle into the shrubs so that it’s easy to top off each day. Between the heat and the shallow water in the saucer, it dries out quickly.

A shallow green birdbath surrounded by greenery, featuring a water fountain shaped like a dinosaur and a collection of yellow, star-shaped toys at the bottom. — Bee water source

Further garden projects await, but we’re heading into a seven-day heatwave starting Friday, so I’ll be hiding from the sun.

Meanwhile, I’m manifesting love, light, and hope for peace in our world.

Bougainvillea extraordinaire

Bouganvillea reflected in the garden mirrors

August 22, 2023 by Born To Organize

Worrying and Gardening

Worrying about things out of my control never stops me from worrying about things that are out of my control. Ha! The sense of relief, when it passes, is palpable, and I understand that worry comes from fear. Still, it’s wasted energy and time better spent doing other things.

Southern California, home to family and friends, spent the weekend on hurricane watch, followed by threats of flash flooding and mudslides. My 22-year-old son lives in Southern California; however, he left for the weekend to attend a concert with friends in Las Vegas, where, you guessed it, they also had flash flooding. Now back in SoCal, all is well. The storms passed without any fatalities, and we were all relieved. It’s uncommon for hurricanes to land on our west coast shores. Hurricane Hilary is our state’s first tropical storm in over eighty years.

We welcomed the storm remnants here in San Jose on Monday. It lowered temperatures and produced an air-cleansing rain. I added support to the sunflowers late in the day to ease the battering of the wind. It won’t be long until they all go to seed, but I’m glad they remain standing for now.

In other garden news, our second attempt at growing tomato plants has been successful. We planted them in the front curb garden. I pulled the sad-looking remains of the tomato plants in the back garden—that last promising tomato providing a meal for a nocturnal visitor.

I watched a large opossum amble across the garden at dawn this morning and regretted leaving my camera phone indoors. We often see them along the fence line after dark, but it’s been years since one showed up in the garden.

Saturday, I spotted a tiny, green praying mantis on a bright pink Cosmo as I waited for Mike to back out the car.

I snapped a few shots, and a bee came to gather pollen. Neither of them seemed to mind the other. Two hours later, I rechecked the flowers, and the mantis remained there. The next day an orange butterfly joined the gathering, along with more bees. It’s a popular plant.

The bottom left pics show a brown mantis right side up, then hanging upside down. I wish I could do that.

I plan to add a page to my blog documenting the wildlife that visits the garden. Recording things appeals to my organizing side, and it’s a way to stay connected to the garden on these hot, dry days. The first day of autumn is one month away.

I’m looking forward to the seasonal change.

August 13, 2018 by Born To Organize

The Perennials of August

Those heady, early days of spring feel like a first date. Everything is new and full of promise. The perennials of August, however, are more like a comfortable relationship. They’re predictable, sure, but they’re easy, reliable, and strong.

When we removed the last of our lawn in 2015, we made way for a number of new perennials, most of them native to semi-arid California. From my back garden swing each day, I see bees, hummingbirds and butterflies moving between plants. They find nectar for sustenance, and pollinate as they go. They’re welcome visitors and a daily reminder of the benefits of “going native” in one’s community.

Won’t you come have a look?

Front garden: Yellow kangaroo paw stand tall, with swaying grasses and Salvia to the front of them.

This is the front garden, facing the house. It’s taken a few years, but the plants have matured and filled in the space nicely.

Here’s another perspective:

Pink, orange and yellow hues surround the Magnolia tree

And here are a few closeups of the plants surrounding the Magnolia:

Rich purples against a dark green foliage

Fuchsia blooms

I love this shot of Mouse the cat with the Little Free Library cat silhouette in the foreground. Tall native grasses, left, and pink Scabiosa in the curb garden.

Scabiosa, sometimes referred to as a pincushion plant, has lovely tufts of soft pink. I was in the process of dead-heading some of the plants this week, when I encountered a praying mantis. They’re otherworldly, always fascinating and good for the garden. They will, however, sometimes pray on hummingbirds, so I’m always of two minds when I see one.

Here is a view of the back garden at dusk. I’ve taken several pictures of this plant grouping but always struggle to capture the beauty. I wish you could see it in person. The sun warms the plants, releasing that wonderful sage-like scent. Most of the flowers are quite small, but beautiful closeup.

I never tire of watching the bees go about their day.

Trichostema, commonly known as blue curls, visited by a bee

Small lizards like to sun themselves in the garden, but Tessa treats them like toys. I’ve placed over-turned saucers under several plants to offer shelter from her reaching paws.

A nice place to read the paper on a Saturday morning

Back garden near the swing planted with native perennial plants

I’ll always love Spring’s first blush of show-stopping bulbs and flirty annuals. They quicken the heart and remind us that we’re alive. Yet as we endure these hot, dry dog-days of summer, the August perennials are a lovely reminder of strength, endurance and love.

July 26, 2011 by Born To Organize

Bagby Garden: How Does Your Garden Grow?

We lucked out with two weeks in the Bagby Garden this summer. We harvested a few summer squashes but the berries weren’t quite ripe for picking. The greatest treasures, however, always lie in the unexpected: a lizard panting in the sun, bees among the petals of a flower and that earthy, damp smell after an uncommon summer rain.

Bee in the Borage

Latin name: Borago officinalis

Lounging Lizard

This little critter is probably a Western Side-blotched lizard, abundant in the warm, western areas of California.

“A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability, and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise.” -Aldo Leopold. A Sand County Almanac. Oxford University Press, 1949.

All Out Artichokes

Green Thumb Gardener

June 3, 2011 by Born To Organize

Bagby Garden

It’s been a joy to share in the Bagby School Garden experience these past few years. I’ve had the pleasure of working with Donna Boss since 2007. Donna and one other parent pioneered the school garden. They rallied volunteers and donors along with the school custodial staff, and with a day of sweat-equity, gave birth to the Bagby Garden and Outdoor Classroom.

Donna Outside the Garden Shed

A handful of parents turn out once a month and we collectively share and instruct eager students in the joys of planting, watering, harvesting and tasting the fruits of their labor. Students are inquisitive and willing to try new things. Green soup anyone? Kids covet the rakes and watering cans along with the over-sized wheelbarrow. At the school’s Open House my own children were proud to show off what they planted. Budding gardeners take pride in what they grow.

Bagby Garden

In addition to planting and harvesting, we have a chance to look at bugs, read stories and make garden-related crafts. One of the more popular Garden Fridays included a pumpkin raffle. Our first pumpkin harvest yielded several beautiful specimens. Other years, we supplement from a local patch. One afternoon, my garden duty was babysitting a pair of mantids (praying mantis) from curious but occasionally over-eager hands.

Pumpkin Raffle

Each summer we sign up to take care of the garden for a week. It’s my secret pleasure having the garden all to myself for that week. During the teaching Fridays my role is to instruct, not to plant, water or weed. It’s not always easy when you have green blood running through your veins to step back and let others do all the work (and have all the fun)!

Happy Gardener

My son graduates this year and a whole new crop of students will take his place. We’re both ready for new experiences and growth, but I’ll look back wistfully on my time in this lovely garden. It went by too fast.