Thank you Jodi--I forgot to Title This Post. There, Titled. :)

Thanks to all of you honest folks willing to confess both your aversion to and necessity for the dreaded tarps. A few days ago I took the long way home, in hot pursuit of those infamous blighted cloaks. Typically I don't give attention to such things so it was quite a surprise to see, 8 within a span of ten minutes. And a Toyota Tundra I had "mistaken" for a tarp given its neon blue shell.

However, all kidding aside, a twinge of guilt has plagued me since viewing footage of Haiti and realizing that many Haitians would be thrilled to own a tarp. It's all a matter of perspective, isn't it?

A few weeks ago, Hubby and I drove to Home Depot. Naturally it took a mere nanosecond upon entering for both of us to beeline to our preferred destinations. Do you and your spouse ever do this? I bet you can't guess where I went. The outside garden area was pathetically devoid of enticements. Not even a scattering of Perlite on the cement. Houseplants, however, were aplenty. Spotting these succulents prompted reaching for my camera, conveniently tucked away in my purse for just such instances.

Cool, aren't they?

Please indulge me as I venture off-topic for a sec.
Change "guy" to "gal" and sadly, in a few more years this might be me.

Having this possibly absurd idea of getting my work published, I subscribe to
Guide to Literary Agents, a blog written by editor, Chuck Sambuchino who skillfully bridges the gap between hopeful writers and the esoteric world of publishing. Always an interesting read.

Tarp-itis: The Next Pandemic?

Clarkia rubicunda 'Shamini' with Agastache cana last JULY.

I'm attracted to opinionated people. Opinionated gardeners, all the better. Perhaps this is why Teza and I get along famously. His mantra is something akin to, "It's my blog and I'll rant if I want to." Case in point: a no-holds-barred constern-atious diatribe on garden magazines that foolishly waste precious space on outdoor living accouterments such as BBQs, patio furniture, etc. Yep. I agree.

Admittedly, I'm not always so brave in revealing my opinions to the entire world. For one thing I don't want to get fired from my money-making writing-gig. I'm not really interested in offending you, my beloved blog readers either so hopefully none of this is taken too seriously. That said, when I read Christine's Last Frontier Garden blog post on "tarp-itis" I knew I had to add my two bits.

Yes, tarps are all the rage here in western Oregon. Abundant rainfall seems to be the only required justification for employing these tacky pseudo-fabric eyesores. As Christine pointed out, the ubiquitous neon blue, [easily recognizable from an airplane window at 35,000, and I daresay the space station] is not a color found in nature. What executive sitting behind some desk in some high rise in, say, New York City, [in other words, completely out of touch with the outdoors] had the color say?

Last Sunday, in the pursuit of blog post fodder, I went drive-by shooting. I thought the photo below was nice. I've admired this little street-side oasis from its inception a few years ago. But with eyes [and ears] immune by familiarity, I didn't catch wind of the alien megalomaniac with its head peaking over the fence silently screaming, "get me in your shot!"

You know the old saying, "when you point a finger at someone, remember that three fingers are pointing back at you"? Well, yeah. Maybe green isn't quite as grotesque as neon blue. [Perhaps the NYC dweller was listening after all.] Still, isn't my compost heap's wrapper not just as tacky? I fear I too have a case of tarp-itis. Sorry Christine.

Okay, I can admit my faults. This makes the ranting okay, doesn't it? Christine has devised a unique new monthly feature. I would like to be a regional representative. Look for hers and then my TARP OF THE MONTH feature. Anyone else game?

Truthiness? How 'bout Randomness?

Heuchera 'Georgia Peach' is
a peach of a plant, boasting the largest leaves of all in my Heuchera collection.

Move over, peaches. Let's try for something a little
less nutritious.

Yes, I'm being random. I found this freebie and had to have a copy.
I always enjoy "friendly food," don't you?

And, hello? Donuts are even more friendly with a smiley-faced
cup of java.
My gift to each of you in appreciation for understanding
the issue of Seasonal Affective Disorder.
Speaking of which,
would you believe today dawned with nary a cloud in the sky?
In the spirit of
Karen of Greenwalks
I thought I'd grab a few drive-bys.


Are you drooling, Loree? Thems some dangerous prickly-pears!
Doesn't it seem odd that these thrive in the Pacific Northwest?


Notice the kitty by the bench? I called to her and she came
and we wanted to bond. Unfortunately her collar meant
she already had people. And three cats at home already
have me.
See the moss growing under the bench? This stuff is as ubiquitous
as air in these parts. I love it.


Do you think this compost pile has been here awhile?


And finally, for all you fellow pink people. Or is it magenta?

A Moody Monday for Moi

My cat is here beside me on the sofa, sound asleep. Sometimes he snores. Soft melodic breaths emanate from his burrowed face, keeping time with the rising and falling of his indulgent girth. But the wind is making such a ruckus that I wouldn't hear him if he were mimicking my husband.

I'm not outdoors much at all now. It's kind of a perpetual symbiotic dysfunction. I don't want to go outside because I lack motivation and I lack motivation because I don't go outside. I've got SAD. I need vitamin D. It might sound contradictory to say I don't mind the rain but I don't mind the rain. What I mind are the dust balls and mountains of laundry that are as certain as taxes and death. It's mid-winter.

On the brighter side, my Viola is blooming. It's a fragrant native that I dug it up on
a friend's property. It must know my penchant for pink because over the years
it has lost all signs of purple.

My number two strategy for "winter interest"
[an obsessive phase a few years back] was to collect as many berried
plants as possible and to locate them for best inside viewing.
[My number one strategy, you ask. Broadleaf and coniferous evergreens.]
My Quasi-Bonsai is Cotoneaster horizontalis [above]. It's deciduous but
holds its berries until spring.

Also deciduous, Aronia arbutifolia Brilliantissima.

A robin's smorgasbord.

Nandina domestica 'Moyer's Red.'

Cotoneaster lacteaus is a broadleaf evergreen with oodles of red berry clusters.
It's one of my favorite plants.

Another photo.
As my plant has matured, I've limbed it up which affords it this
wonderfully weeping.

Viburnum tinus forms its burgundy buds slowly over the winter which give way to
white flowers in spring, eventually ripening into dark blue berries.

IT'S BLOOMING !!

Hi Everybody. What's blooming, you ask. Not the Diascia above. I just put it there 'cuz it's pretty.

The story goes like this. I'm just home from an errand. The air outside my car smells like, [gross alert] somebody farted cabbage. Is that graphic enough? It used to happen occasionally when the paper mill was in full operation. I don't know what caused it today. Nasty stuff. So imagine my surprise as I got closer to my front door and caught wind [and whiff] of a delicious, exotic floral scent. I knew immediately it was my Sarcococca ruscifolia. Sweet Box if you don't feel like rolling your tongue over several times. Below is my ten year old plant, measuring approximately three feet by three feet.

It grows in this stupid stacked rock planter some idiot decided to build along our house's facade long before we called it home. Very few things grow here because the lighting is weird and the soil--despite my efforts--is crappy [not the good kind of crappy either]. Sarcoccoa thrives in these inhospitable conditions. And not only that, it grows slowly, it keeps its foliage year round and produces dark berries in fall that persist until whenever they drop off in spring. Or is it summer? Catherine?

Lots of buds are yet to burst. My reference tells me is hardy in Zones 8-10 but since we've all admitted to a serious case of Zonal Denial, perhaps this treasure is in your future.

I have a vaseful of these diminutive jewels about five feet from where I'm sitting. The scent is the quintessential aroma therapy. I've died. I'm in heaven. There's hope. Things are right on cue. My January friend has wooed me once again. Gosh I love gardening.

The December freeze was brutal to one of my Daphne odora shrubs. Despite the lackluster foliage, she's got buds. So my February friend is also right on cue.

Before I close, I have to say that I'm miffed about Jay Leno's show. I enjoyed watching him at ten while touching base with my garden blogging buddies. I guess I'm in the minority, preferring comedy to murder.

How's the WISH LIST coming?

So, does everybody have their wish lists compiled and perched on the launch paid, waiting for the countdown [in the form of lottery winnings] 'til blast off?

Miraculously, nothing new is added to my list yet. This is in part because of last year's mantra, all systems go, aka "buy with abandon." I went a little nuts. [Houston, send money.] I kept finding things to buy. And I kept adding things to look for. Improvements kept coming to mind. And if you know me, you know that I harbor no hesitations about planting my newest acquisitions in containers until inspiration strikes. TLC in the form of a bigger pot and regular watering seemed the humane thing to do. Especially since I was feeling guilty about the panic emanating from the edges of my lawn. Poor little blades were afraid of me and my long-handled murder weapon. They aren't ready to join their ancestors in the compost pile. Okay, fine.

I thought it would be fun to reveal a few of last summer's "pleasant surprises." My thinking on this is that if I can recall their many attributes, as well as size and water needs, maybe I can feed my need for color and blousy exuberance and not feel so compelled to buy more.

A few times now, I've written about dear fellow blogger Darla and her generosity. For those of you who don't know, Darla, who gardens in Florida offered me seed of this fabulous Celosia after I fainted and regained enough wherewithal to email her with my desperate inquiry into its identity. This plant isn't hardy in my climate and I wasn't able to collect a lot of seed so I'm hoping nature will provide me with abundant seedlings. Some of you wrote me with caveats about this plant and its progeny. Beware of abundant seedlings. It won't be the first time. [Read: Verbena bonariensis.]

Pictured above are four pleasant surprises. On the top, left is Eucomis 'Sparkling Burgundy' purchased from my favorite nursery in the whole wide world. [Logo on my sidebar. No royalties for advertising. The owners are really nice people.] On the right, Coreopsis verticillata 'Redshift.' I thought this was a new introduction until Frances alluded to its longevity and performance value. I'm not a huge fan of yellow but overlaid with cherry-red brush strokes raises the flowers up several notches. My fingers are crossed that it will winter-over without damage but it's still too early to tell. Ditto for C. rosea 'Heaven's Gate.' Bottom row left is my favorite daylily, Hemerocallis 'Final Touch.' Who'd a thunk daylilies came in pink? Now if we can just get a pink Crocosmia... And finally, Eupatorium cannabinium 'Flore Plenum.' This variant of the Joe Pye, [I can't bring myself to include "weed."] has been on my wish list for many years. Rather than the typical mauve panicles, this species blooms in soft pink clusters, that last from bloom time in August until mid fall. Yeah, I know. Cool, huh? It grows tall like its cousin and the foliage is similar.

I have to say that I've come full circle with rose bushes. I endured the customary bumpy rite-of-passage down the lane of futility as I attempted the impossible: make hybrid teas look good in the mixed border. Can't be done. By me anyway. Enter carefree shrub roses. Yeehaw! The top left is 'Citrus Splash.' I know. Yellow again but a yummy-yellow, don't you think? Beside it is a burgeoning seedling I purchased from a nearby grower. I love these flowers--tiny, hot pink single flowers in clusters all summer long. What's not to love? On the bottom left is 'Cinco de Mayo' by far my best rose performer last summer, fall and winter. Seriously. It bloomed nonstop and the foliage was perfection. December's arctic blast was Cinco's call to dormancy, otherwise it might still be blooming. And finally, 'Sophie's Rose.' The jury is still out on this one. The foliage suffered with a lot with powdery mildew. If this continues, out it will come. I've got plenty of other candidates for this space. Sometimes you've got to be ruthless. The lovely flowers are the reason I'm keeping it. For now.

I was fiddling with clip art recently.
Next time, I think I'll focus on foliage. For now, I can use the time to
narrow down my myriad choices.

The General Consensus/Illuminating the Garden

Happy New Year to all of you. I really enjoyed reading your predictions for 2010, both in reply to my post and elsewhere around Blog-world. The general consensus: trends are trends are trends. Megan conveys it neatly. [Paraphrase] On the one hand, there is a sense of validation that your good taste is on the winning team and nurseries usually have a good supply. On the downside, trends can quickly devolve to cliche, with every garden from here to eternity sporting the same trendy thing. Catherine aptly pointed out that tends can tend to be on the pricey side, especially plant trends. Waiting for the hoopla to settle can be a great money saver. And often for me, saving money is the only reason I'm forced into patience.

Above is a photo of my patio during the summer of 2008, another little taste of the good ole days, to warm up by, if I may. Below are photos of my one and only claim to craft fame. I know. Fame is more than a slight stretch especially since the idea is not original to me. Hanging solar "lanterns" first piqued my interest last year while perusing Dave's Garden. I can't remember the name of the real crafter but I must give credit to her, where ever, whoever, she is. Last spring, after I wrote a post about it, the obsession grew. As I tagged along with friends to garage sales, I'd be on the hunt for "lantern" fodder.

First, find these little el cheapo stick-in-the-ground solar lights.
They come in either silver or black. The solar part unscrews easily.

This lantern is my favorite. In its former life, it housed a candle.
I found it for a song at Goodwill. [Thrift Store.]

This is my second favorite. It was also used for candles.
I wired the base to a copper pipe, stuck it in the ground and, voila.
It beckons me to the outer reaches of my garden.

Below are the rest of my lanterns, scattered
around the garden. I like that they're unobtrusive, blending with
their surroundings.

Addendum:
There was a slight, [sigh] screw-up on my part, with this post.
The earlier commenters, about 15 or so of you, have been
tragically deleted.
Please don't take it personally. You think by now I'd have
this blog posting thing figured out, but nooo!
Oh and, I'll toy with my camera and see if I can capture a few
solar lantern night shots.