Hello, Seattle!

No, I’m not going to Seattle. Seattle has come to me. At least, their weather has. In an odd twist of fate, Seattle is getting our normal record highs and we are getting their usual cool and rainy days.

It’s truly a pleasure getting a rest from baking in the sun. In fact, I rather overdid it today, clearing out a couple of overgrown areas where I’d started growing plants in the hope that someday they will be gardens. Since I triage my yard — ignore the spots that will do okay regardless, ignore the spots that won’t be okay no matter what I do, and concentrate on the areas where I might do the most good — there are always areas in need of intensive care.

I worked more than I should have perhaps, but it was cool, and once I got started clearing out a particular area, I wanted to finish. For some reason, that’s not the area I’d planned to work on next, but apparently, after I dug up a monster weed (I needed wet ground for that because when the sun bakes the ground around here, weeds are cemented in) I just continued.

I couldn’t really do much of anything else. A couple of workers came today to grind the stumps of trees that had been cut down, and that machine is noisy! It takes a long time to grind the stump because it can only do one small strip at a time, so they were here all day.

At one point, the worker was loading the machine back on the trailer, so I went out and asked about the roots. The stump wasn’t a problem for me. It was just a stump. A lump of wood. But the exposed roots all around the stump were growing a massive number of trees, and I figured the easiest way of getting rid of those roots would be to grind them. I reminded him of that, but he said they’d bring a tractor to pull them up. I mentioned how disappointed I was to have that incipient forest still there, so he used my pruning shears to cut them down. Since I am a bit possessive of my tools and people tend to forget whose tool they are using, I stayed in the vicinity and ended up digging up thick clumps of grass that were too tough for my mower, which is what I’d intended to do anyway. Surprisingly, it was easy enough to do because of the soft, wet soil, but it still took a long time. As it turns out, it was a good thing he waited because when his boss came and saw all those roots, they ended up doing the roots, too.

That whole long boring story really served no purpose other than to iterate that I overdid it today, which is amazing to me in itself. No so long ago, I could barely do anything. Of course, come tomorrow, I’ll probably be too stiff and sore to do anything, but that’s fine, too. I’ll enjoy the day of rest here in the coolness of Seattle’s weather.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator

A Possible Showplace

After my tulips and other spring bulbs faded, larkspur grew in that same garden. I harvested what seed I could, then had to cut down the dead larkspur stalks, so now nothing is growing in that area.

I now know I have to do a better job of “layering” for lack of a better word, making sure that after the larkspur are gone, something else grows in its place. It’s too late in the year to plant anything, so I will have that bare spot to look at for the next several months. In the fall, chances are more larkspur will grow, but meantime, it’s not very pretty.

A friend has this “layering” thing perfected. After her tulips bloomed lavishly, other types of flowers grew, and now that the second generation of flowers are gone, her garden is filled with bluebells and orange daylilies.

Admittedly, her garden is a lot older than mine and has been well-established for perhaps decades, but if I do things correctly over the next few years, perhaps I too can have flowers for many months.

I’m thinking of borrowing her idea of daylilies, even though I never done well with them, which is odd because they are supposed to be so easy to grow they have a tendency to take over a garden. Still, it’s worth a try. Or I could plant zinnias — in another area where I cleared out the larkspur, zinnias are beginning to blossom. In this case, though, they are not “layered,” but were planted next to the larkspur. So only half of that garden area is bare. Zinnias are just about the only flowers I can grow from seed, probably due more to this area than anything I am doing — at one time, 90% of the world’s zinnia seeds were grown not far from here.

I’d worry more about my lack of knowledge and experience, but this is supposed to be the project of a lifetime, so perhaps in five to ten years, I will have a showplace.

Or not. There’s still the harsh sun, lack of moisture, and alkaline clay soil, and an inexperience gardener (me) to deal with. I’m amazed I can keep anything alive. It seems the most prolific growers around here are weeds and trees that have been chopped down. Luckily, I just got word that the workers are on the way to pick up a stump grinder so they can get rid of the stumps and the unwanted “forest” that is growing from the exposed roots of the downed tree.

One more step to that possible showplace.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator