Each Little World

Going forward

If you noticed the headline on yesterday's post you will have figured out that I republished my very first blog post to acknowledge my 15th anniversary of blogging. I started my blog after a 30-year career in journalism that ended as my liberal local newspaper left print behind and went digital. They needed to seriously reduce the staff and my job was eliminated as they reconfigured the newsroom.

Most of the people who left were like me: long-time journalists who were nearing retirement. None of us was ready to leave and we definitely were not ready to see our daily paper fade into the ether. 

All this is to say that I taught myself to blog to show that this old dog could learn new tricks. If you go back to my early posts you will see that they read like newspaper or even magazine articles; long, literary and covering a variety of subjects. Over the years I've pretty much concentrated on gardening as that has consumed more and more of my mental and physical energy.

I used to check my stats but haven't done it for years. Mark, however, took a look. He said that in fifteen years I've put up 3,005 posts or 200 times per year or every 2 days; however one wants to break it down. I've averaged 222 page views per day or 404 per post. You've commented 16,328 times or 5.5 per post. Not exactly an influencer or as influential as a number of you whose excellent blogs have resulted in books, lectures and more.

These days I'm self-publishing my own garden books but I was on the lecture circuit for years; going back to the early 1990s using slides. I've got a library of over 7,000 slides that are all archivally filed, labeled and cross-referenced and I'm on my 26th volume of hand-written garden journals.

All of which is to say that I'm 76 years old. If I want to read more, draw more, make more books, see friends more — do anything more often — then blogging needs to happen less frequently. How much less?? I'm not sure; but definitely on a more random schedule when I have something to share. I know many of you only at a distance. But I've met a surprising number of you in person because you brought a tour here (Daniel Mount), were visiting Madison (Flingers, Kris in Kansas City) or you live here and read my newspaper columns long before I stared blogging. 

I may be ready to blog less but I'm not ready to give up all these blog-related relationships. My e-mail is listed on the blog so we should all be able to keep in touch easily. I will try to see if I can find a system that works for you to sign up for notifications when I post. And you can also do what I do on many blogs I read, just periodically stop by to see what's happening and leave a comment. I will still be here and I know you want to see how our road construction project finally turns out!

Let me close by saying that the idea of blogging less makes me feel panicky. For 45 years the first thing I've done almost every day is sit down at a computer of some kind and start writing essays, op-eds, editorials, lifestyle stories, columns and blog posts. It is going to be a hard habit to break. 

The first image is a snap of all of us who left the newsroom in 2008. Some of us, me included (in the blue sweater center left), are automatically smiling when faced with a camera. But you can see on some faces what a very bittersweet moment it was. 

The third photo shows Wisconsin native Daniel Mount leading a group of PNW gardeners on a tour of Midwest gardens and prairies. 

The fourth photo was taken the day Daniel Mount's tour group visited our garden. Blogging has resulted in me becoming interested in photography and in preserving the history of our garden, in words and pictures.

The last photo shows the crew putting in the new storm sewer in front of our property. They've now started to prepare the roadbed for paving, but that's still a ways away.

Everything old

. . . is new again. 

Way back when — March 2002 to be exact — I ordered a pair of Taxus bacccata aka Irish yews at $8.00 each from the original Heronswood Nursery. You can imagine how small these shrubs were when they arrived in the mail. Twenty years later they are larger but not the 8' tall drama queens I was expecting them to turn into.

Not long after my Heronswood yews were planted Mark came home from working at the Olbrich Botanical Gardens annual plant sale with his own Irish yew. He didn't know we already had a pair of them. His was a named cultivar — Taxus bacccata 'Bean Pole'  —  and was already a couple of feet hight. BUT he paid $70.00 for it! I was appalled. Twenty years later it's obvious his was the smarter purchase. 

So imagine my surprise and delight when I unexpectedly found a lone Taxus baccata 'Green Column' at our local K and A Greenhouse at the end of June. I paid $81.99 and didn't blink. In fact, it seemed like a steal to get a plant the size of the one Mark bought 20 years later and it only cost $12.00 more. It was orignally discovered at Jeddeloh Nursery in Germany. I also happen to have a Jeddeloh Hemlock. 

Each year my original pair of Heronswood yews lose a lot of their growth to winter burn. So I moved one of the original pair to the back garden where it gets eastern sun. It came through the winter in better shape than this one on the north side of the house. 

This one is currently looking so good I can't decide if I should just leave it alone or move it as well. Yews can generally take sun or shade and Mark's specimen is on the north side of the house in a lot of shade. It's also protected from winter damage by a huge old Arborvitae next to it. This one is in more southern light coming over the house and is much more exposed in the winter. Since I don't have twenty more years to watch this slowly grow it probably means I should indeed move it. 

Latest garden attack

The last part of our road project that involves damage to our plantings was done last week. The fire hydrant is being moved across the street but that won't be a big messy job like all the new water and sewer pipes being laid and then hooked up to the houses. 

The workman who was using this excavator scooped out a clump of my Geranium macrorrhizum and attempted to relocate them before they started the big dig. I was thrilled with his thoughtfulness.

Our neighbors' pipes were being done at the same time as ours. The crew tends to do the same jobs in a row starting at one or the other end of the street. 

Mark was standing in our garden to take this shot. 

There is a fair amount of hand work that's done around new and old pipes in the dig location. 

These guys are so skilled at operating these big machines. 

The orange fencing goes around holes in the street where the work was not finished in one day.

Our hole is all marked as the other excavator uses his machine to make the road passable for residents. 

The yellow ribbon marks the oak tree at the end of our driveway. All this equipment is parked along our property for the night.

I went out to see what it looked like once the crew stopped work for the day at 7 p.m.

This is the view through the front garden towards the street. 

Looking toward our garden as the guys work to move our water service from the old water main to the new one. Note the yellow gas line which was the first utility to be replaced.

The new copper water piping . . .

is hooked up to our house. 

Clearing the new section of copper pipe before connecting it to the existing line to our house. The pipe had to be extended because the new main was installed on the far side of the right of way from us. We were only without water for a very short time.

Wordless Wednesday

The year in photos

This year ended on such an unexpected and sad note, that I really did not want to look back at it. But checking in on my favorite garden blogs suggested that looking at my gardening year would be a positive experience — and it has been. So thanks to all of you who posted about 2021 in your gardens.

JANUARY

I read more books this past year than in any other period in my life; even more than during 2020 which was a record-breaking reading year for me. I know this because I keep a record of everything I read during a given year. I bought a lot of garden books, more than are in this photo, but still haven't made my way through all of them.

FEBRUARY

2021 was also a record year for tree work in our garden. We had old and dying trees of various sizes removed during the year, along with pruning on an assortment of other trees. The garden is healthier and looks better after all the work. And the gardeners are happy to have discovered a great company to do this important work.

MARCH

Once March arrived the garden and I both came alive. One of the first Hellebores I ever bought, Royal Heritage Strain, was moved a few years ago and settled in with no problems. Always a thrill when that happens.

Equally exciting was this combination of Luzula 'Solar Flare' interplanted with snowdrops; an idea I adopted from Adrain Bloom's garden in the U.K. 

APRIL

This is the month that Mark began to disassemble the old ponds and connecting stream as the first step in turning them into symbolic water gardens with raked gravel. 

I will remember April as the month I spent covering and uncovering delicate plants; especially those that were injured by late frost the year before. It was a real slog, but worth the effort when everything bloomed as the season progressed. 

MAY

I went crazy buying plants, bulbs, and shrubs this past year. After going nowhere and hardly buying anything in 2020, I splurged and did not feel a bit guilty. Eventually I did feel exhausted, trying to get everything in the ground while we did a major redesign project as well. 

Our new water feature was put in place and filled this month and turned out just as we had imagined it. 

JUNE

Three other gardeners who all live on my side of town started our own little in-person garden social group with me. We met indoors and out at each others houses and gardens until Omicron put a stop to it. I think it may be time to do a group Zoom this month. We toured each other's gardens, answered questions, shared advice, books, websites and food.

Flowers were blooming and projects continued but the temps started rising and the rain disappeared. I can't complain about drought compared to many other spots in the nation. My water bill, however, is proof that we did not get our typical summer rainfall. 

JULY

We entered the home stretch of the pond redesign when the top layer of quartz chips were delivered. 

AUGUST

During the growing season, something lovely was always blooming in the garden. We were so focused on the pond project, however, that it dominated every week of the year: talking, planning, and doing the work. It was a thrill when Mark made two different rakes and was able to try raking patterns into the gravel. 

SEPTEMBER

We finally unveiled the pond with an open garden day on Mark's 75th birthday.

OCTOBER

If the Spring gave us late frosts, so did the autumn. The Toad Lilies (Tricyrtis) were spectacular. 

The Ginkgoes never got their full golden color before dropping, but the rest of the garden put on a glorious show of color. 

NOVEMBER

We ended the year as it began: Taking down another of the original trees planted when our house was built in the mid-1950s. A good-size Oak seedling has been growing in the maple's shadow. We're hoping that it takes off with  more space and light. 

DECEMBER

The mostly dead Arborvitae hedge, that Mark took out in the spring, was replaced with a cedar fence.

It was so warm and dry for most of December that I was able to cut Helleborus niger to bring indoors for Christmas vases. 

It's hard to know what 2022 will bring; but looking at the weather, politics and Covid, it's also hard to be optimistic. I'm looking forward to time spent in the garden and visiting your garden blogs to keep me sane. 

Final details: Safer steps

After our new deck was finished last autumn, it was obvious that it was a bit higher than the old one; just enough to make stepping on and off of it awkward. The step we installed on two sides of the deck were stones that had been set with a bobcat back in 1998.

I suggested replacing them with a large limestone step. Mark thought that the old stones could be dug out and raised up enough to make them work as well as they used to. But he was unable to move them in the slightest degree.

Since we are about to have an open garden event to celebrate our redesign, we did not want to have to worry about whether people would find it difficult getting on and off of the deck. So Mark quickly made wooden steps to temporarily cover their stone predecessors. 

They're much easier to use and a great solution. Though you can see the stone underneath in these photos, you don't really notice them when you are using the wooden steps. 

I like this temporary solution so much, I suggested to Mark that we talk to the craftsman who built our deck, to see if he would make steps out of Ipe wood to match the deck. Stay tuned.

Pond-redesign update: The little gravel garden goes away

Garden projects like re-doing the pond are never quick or easy. They also create related projects that need doing at the same time. That's the case with this secondary project that we finished last week. This shows the area as it looked in the early years as you came around the house to the back garden. The old is deck on the left and the pond on the right. 

In 2008 we decided to turn this discreet area into a raked gravel garden to relate it to the one out front. Mark removed the grass, made a sinuous rock wall and put down weed barrier. 

It got topped off with fine gravel, raked and looked perfect. 

Thirteen years later, it is less than perfect with construction debris — limestone pieces and an old wood bench — taking up space. Both shrubs had seriously deteriorated from bad winters and bad bunnies. Mark and I decided that this raked gravel garden made no sense if we were turning the big pond into one as well. This smaller one would detract from the pond re-do, so it had to go. To revert this area back to a planting zone, meant that everything that had gone into its creation now had to come out.

First Mark removed the best gravel off the top and added it to the front gravel garden. The rest went into the pond (below) as filler. 

Then he pulled up all those pieces of weed barrier to reach the soil level.

But before we could add more dirt, we had to pull out the stone wall. 

Despite being smallish stones, they were heavy and not easy to just grab and pull out. I know since I helped on this part of the project. 

As stones were being pulled out on one side of this slope below the Tea House, they were being used to create a new wall on the other side. Previously logs delineated the path. 

First load of soil goes down just before the mostly dead shrubs were removed. The one on the left is a Burning Bush so I was fine with seeing it go.

Glad I left the flags in place as I never would have been able to figure out where my spring ephemerals were planted once the rock wall was gone. 

A second load of dirt and the area is ready for me to plant. The rock piles on the back right are for a different project. 

I used two bags of our chopped leaf much to keep the dirt from blowing away. 

I more or less have a planting plan; I just need to get up and out early enough to have energy to do the work. 

A resolution for 2021

During the holidays Mark and I attempted to reduce the amount of artwork we have stored in the basement in flat files. As we pulled out artwork to examine, Mark gave me a hard time for not continuing with my drawing, which he highly praised. That conversation — and the sight of my last drawings — reminded me of how much I miss making visual, and not just written, work.

Thus I am resolved to try to get back to drawing more, which means writing less. I am going to use the winter, which is always a downtime for northern gardeners, to draw rather than blog so often. But I don't want to totally give up my connection to all of you; therefore I am going to blog once a week on Tuesdays, beginning tomorrow. 

See you then.

A collaged garden journal page I created for a workshop I conducted.

The bedroom re-do

i always get an urge to do a project over the Labor Day holiday weekend. In 2010, we painted the library walls before the bookcases were installed. Mark and I each picked a quote about books and wrote them in magic marker on the wall where the bookcases were going to go. We loved the idea of someone discovering our messages years from now.  

This year I suggested we repaint our bedroom from deep yellow ochre to gray. Last winter we bought a new silvery gray duvet which was visually at odds with the rest of the room.  Plus it has been this color since 2008. (This image is closer to the actual wall color than the pictures below which look much more pumpkin colored.) 

Mark made a quick foray into the local Benjamin Moore paint store to grab some sample paint cards. That was followed by a curbside pickup of two different gray paint samples. He tried both colors around the window frames . . . 

and on the wall with a black and white photo, since we were considering using all b/w art in the re-painted room. That's the curtain fabric (linen from Purl Soho in NYC, purchased online) spread out on the bed. One paint sample matches the duvet and the other one matches this fabric.

i met friends for a weekly Saturday morning chat while Mark got started painting. 

He is a focused, meticulous painter. When I got home at noon, he had the ceiling repainted and had done all around the windows, the corners of the room and the top and bottom of the walls where they met another color or material. All the really persnickety parts of painting a room. 

I went out to garden while he painted. When I came in a few hours later, I was pooped. He was almost finished and said he was tired out as well. But where I stopped working, he kept going. End result was he took a tumble off our two-step safety ladder, landed on his side on the bed post and broke a rib. 

I was equal parts sympathetic and furious. Mostly I was really scared to have him take a fall for the second time this summer, after rarely even modestly injuring himself in thirty years of marriage. He sat around — medicated — for a few days and then decided he was ready to hang art. We considered b/w prints and photos. 

We've always had a table or bench on the wall opposite the bed. This time we added a pair of upholstered chairs. We were about to hang one of our all time favorite paintings (by local artist Tom Sergeant), when we suddenly went in an entirely different direction. (Note our beautiful silk curtains were falling apart from age and too much sunshine. Very Miss Havisham!)

We opted for simplicity and more sculptural forms this time around. 

The tables had been covered with Indian Kanthas down to the floor. Whether they will be covered again — and with what — is still up in the air. 

On the wall between the bed and the closet are a pair of oyster farming sticks that we've had in various locations for almost 20 years.  

We both thought the color and circular features on this African mask were a nice echo of the sticks. 

Instead of a group of artworks on this wall as we originally planned, we opted for one dramatic piece.

We found this painting on corrugated metal by outsider artist Mary T. Smith in Milwaukee. We discovered Smith and fell in love with her at The Milwaukee Art Museum, which has a similar piece. 

A large African sculpture went on the pedestal that has been in this same corner forever. We both thought she was the perfect partner for Mary T. Smith. 

To add some sparkle and contrast, we brought in our chrome cocktail table . . .

and a pair of glittery pillows. I wanted to add sequins and sparkly bits to the curtains but Mark was not enthused with that idea. 

Last, but never least, Mark added some fall decorative pieces to the table. 

We probably won't be painting this room again because, in another dozen years, we will be old enough that this house may be too much for us to deal with. But that gives us a nice long time to enjoy it in its new incarnation.

Aging in place

Mark's birthday is in the autumn and mine is in the spring, today as it happens. He's a year older than me so I catch up to him for a while each year; something that always gets me confused about my actual age. My gardening friend Cindy and I are both turning 72 this month. But we've both spent the last year mistakenly saying we were 72!

I've realized this is not a silly mistake but a great new way to deal with getting older. Cindy and I are getting a free year. We're turning 72 again, so we can do all the things we didn't get to, read all the books, right all the wrongs, whatever. We have a whole new year to spend on a 72 "do over"!

Last Thursday Mark and I went down to State Street which almost always means lunch at Himal Chuli, our favorite Nepalese restaurant. He's got that new camera and is constantly practicing on whatever or whoever is closest to him. Sometimes the subject just wants to eat her lunch and has to scold him.