Elsie and Alma

Weeds, stop growing

I hate weeding. I don't hate ALL weeding; for example, I don't mind tidying up a bed that is largely clean already, where the ground is soft and squishy and the weeds pop out easily.

What I really hate weeding is stuff like this:

This is a predicament of my own making, as I put the bricks in myself. Sigh.

Or, take this brick, turn it into rock, rotate vertically, and then you have my rockery. Which I hate with a burning white hot passion. The installers of mid-century rockeries sit warming themselves in the 10th circle of Hell. And even there they are laughing at me. That is how evil they are.

So, when I engage in this kind of weeding, I have to make a lot of little deals with myself to make it more tolerable. I have to set a goal so I can feel like I finished something, even though I hardly ever finish completely. I have to reward myself with treats.

For example, a cup of coffee is a nice incentive

And the perfect place to rest it so I don't have to get up from my weeding spot, even if it takes 20 minutes to dig the perfect rock out of the rock pile.

Goal setting is important, too. For example, how long to weed? Until the orange bucket is full?

Umm...how about the white one?

No, maybe the other white one:

There we go!

Maybe this weeding isn't so bad. It's all about perspective. It will be Miller time before I know it.

Seeds, Start Growing!

(the title above is a line taken from one of my favorite kids' book series, Frog and Toad. In this story, Frog gives Toad some seeds so he can start a garden. Toad, in typical Toad fashion, plants the seeds and stands over them, expecting them to pop up immediately. He yells and yells at them until Frog comes running and asks what is going on. Toad expresses frustration that his seeds are not growing. Frog explains to him, with only the patience that Frog has for Toad, that he must let the sun shine on them, and the rain fall on them, and wait for the seeds to grow. I have always felt myself to be a bit of a Toad, but I aspire to be Frog.)

Hello? Anybody home? We're here!

My seeds arrived two days ago, to much excitement.

I need to admit something: I am not much of a seed grower. I usually take the lazy route and buy plants or get them from my sister who grows stuff from seed in a greenhouse on her farm.

But this year I decided to actually get some seeds and give it a go. I am not starting anything indoors. I've never been good at taking care of indoor plants of any kind, and seedlings in starter pots are no exception. (Although for some reason I bought a bunch of pots just for this purpose because they were ON SALE. What? Oh well. I suppose I will use them at some point.)

This will be good practice for when I put in my vegetable garden next year post-remodel, because while you can buy starts for just about every type of vegetable, you get the best options starting from seed. Which brings me to one of my favorite window-shopping venues, the Territorial Seed Company catalog. I don't even like beans that much, but when I look at pictures of them, I want to grow them. All of them.

So, here they are, the seeds I ordered:

Marigolds and Zinnias!

Cosmos and Sunflowers!

Rudbeckia!

And Carrots! Carrots?

(Homer Simpson voice:) Wait a minute. Carrots?!? But those are HEALTHY! MAAAAAARRRRRGE!

I did not order any vegetable seeds, so initially, I was confused. As I mentioned before, a veggie garden requires a level of attention I just can't provide this year (plus there will be construction people and things right about where I would have put the veggie garden), but I think Territorial Seeds included a packet for just about everyone who ordered seeds, because if you read the fine print, you see the package says, "Plant a Row for the Hungry." I did some research and found that it is a program that has been around for 15 years, and encourages gardeners to plant extra vegetables to share with food banks and neighbors in need. How cool is that? Very, and also very that Territorial gives you the seeds to plant for free with really no guarantee you will do what is asked.

Except karmic guilt, mind you. I am talking to you, Toad.

OK, maybe I will try to find some space for the carrots.

Garden update

The great thing about a garden in spring is I can go out, take a few pictures of what has popped out in the last few days, talk about it, share said pictures, and it might come off as having done something. Which I haven't. OK, at some point, I did plant the plants, just nothing recently.

I did get out for a decent de-cluttering a few days ago, and anticipate another this weekend. Then the weeding begins. Every year, it gets a tiny bit better, though. Slightly fewer weeds to manage. My final nemesis is the horsetail. THIS is the year I am going to take it to those bastards. (sorry Mom. But they really are awful).

And at some point very soon, I'll be planting sweet peas. YAY. It has been a few years since I bothered, and they are so wonderful. I can smell them now.

On to the pics:

Wee narcissus. Look how tiny!

Flowering currant. Here is a tip: you will never get flowers if you hack it back every year. Ask me how I know this.

Hellebore. Remember this post? This was the plant Soren almost "weeded". It looks great now.

More narcissus. I used to feel kind of "meh" about them, but look how happy!

Myth I was told at the Garden Show: cats don't love catmint. Not true! Fortunately, it grows with such vigor, I don't really care how much they feast, roll, rub, and claw on it. Which they do. Here is some, just starting to emerge past last year's leftovers. It is on my to do list.

A lovely and not invasive Euphorbia. It is delicate and dark purple with green "eyes."  Just noticed it was coming up also.

One of the hardest workers out there, hardy geranium. I have a lot of it, and while it can get a bit vigorous (not this particular guy, but others), it is a good space filler, looks great most of the spring and summer, and requires virtually no water once established. And not all that hard to rip back if it gets to be too much. This one is more delicate. I love the chocolate markings on the leaves.

That is all for now. Happy Spring! (is it here yet? i am ready.)

Sunbreaking

It's like streaking, minus the nakedness (for most of us). You must stop everything, and GO OUTSIDE. Even if it only lasts a few minutes.

Apparently, and I have heard this from others, the meteorological (or perhaps just tv weatherspokesmodel) term "sunbreak" is used with higher frequency here in the Pac NW than just about anywhere else. This observation might be purely anecdotal, but I think the answer lies in the fact that when the sun appears, we break for it faster than you can say "Double Tall Nonfat Latte." Offices empty, the libraries and bookstores go silent, crickets chirp in the coffee shops, and the traffic on NE 50th to Greenlake turns into an I-5-like parking lot as thousands of Sunbreakers make for lake. Because you need to move quickly. That sunbreak won't last.

AAUUGGHH! It burns!

But, technically, the weather we had Monday was not a sunbreak. It was MUCH BETTER. I think the sun came out around 11 and it was mostly clear and warm all day. I couldn't help myself and went out into the yard to do some clean up.

Now, it is very tempting to race out and start clipping everything back and removing all the dead stuff, and gearing up for spring. But it is JANUARY. We have two and a half months of potential frost overnight, or daytime frost even, and one warm day in January does not a springtime make, so step away from the peonies. That is what I had to tell myself every ten minutes.

I was good, though, and kept to tasks that are safe to do right now. Such as:

• Clipping back the hellebore leaves.
• Pulling up weeds of all stripes.
• Breaking up the branches in my, um, "junk" pile (not what I call it, but this is a family blog) so I can get them into the yard waste can.
• Moving some mulch around.
• Thinking about where I am going to move stuff.

Fact: In olden times, farmers had many children so they could have free employees.

There is still a LOT of work to do, even if I do not stray from this list. In fact, the second bullet I could pretty much do until spring. But it felt good to get a jump on things, and to BE OUT in the sun. One thing is true, though: as much as I love these bizarre spring-like days in January, if we get too many in a row, it freaks me out. Like, apocalyptic end of days freak out. So, Sun, Helios, Apollo, please, come back tomorrow, but not the next day. Thanks.

Ha ha, then I found this interview with Ben Gibbard in which he discusses his move to LA. If that doesn't hit the nail on the head.