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Thursday, May 16, 2013

The Post-Apocalyptic Tree-Trimmer approach to Gardening.

The Artistic One has a birthday in May. He'll be 78 this month, despite the odds and recent traveling blood clots. A handful of years back TAO didn't want to talk about birthdays. He didn't want a party, or gifts, or anyone to know. Then we had a few struggle-years, like the rest of America and it was hard to get up the energy or think much about extravagances, beyond a full tank of gas. Well, it's official, he's over it! It has been made known that this boy wants a party.
We're formulating a plan; to accommodate everyone's busy schedules and the last-minute nature of the affair; a two-phase event with a sit down garden lunch and a buffet of edibles for those who will randomly appear and disappear. We're planning a menu for carnivores and vegetarian tastes. Nothing high-maintenance; preferably things we can somewhat prepare the day before.
I'll get the pool heater turned on so that the Feral Grandchildren won't be so chilled that they'll come bother us. I've invited friends and foster-dog graduates and some clients we like as well, one of whom offered to give me his poolside furniture, which he is replacing. I hope he comes through before May 19th.
I made a major push to restore my back garden to some level of presentability. We have about 20 ft of flat area before the 60 degree downward slope, embellished with prickly, holly-like bushes that the landlord thinks were a great addition because they produce yellow flowers, for about five minutes every year. With sprinklers that were out of action due to a major underground water leak, for most of last summer and into fall, the lawn was crispy and even the gophers gave up on us.
This Spring I relaunched my efforts and put in sweet-peas and Dahlias and reseeded the grass; which has grown in some luxurious patches and not at all in others; still it's better than it was and the cat thinks the dead patches, covered with planting mix, are perfect for her plein-air bathroom.
This whole "Gotta have a Party!" story started about three weeks ago. I went into full-bore Mad Gardener mode and hauled car loads of bedding plants from the nursery. I can't plant anything much bigger than a 4" pot. The hillside doesn't have too many gophers for the simple reason that they'd need dynamite to tunnel through the rocks and even our friendly NRA hasn't started arming rodents with blasting caps and such.
I lifted and carried and dragged pots and flats of plants and piled bags of chicken compost on the dolly, to trundle down the bumpy side path; leaning back as a counter-weight to stop from careening downhill and off the edge of the four foot vertical retaining wall, drop-off at the bottom, that would land me on the strategic cement rim, rather than into the less deadly water. (I have been in the pool before; in-advertantly; in the winter; fully dressed, including boots and gardening gloves, but that's a story for another day).
It would almost have been a pleasure to take a dip this time. We've had one record-breakingly hot weekend after another  and I'm quite surprised that anything has flourished, as the soil contains a high level of salt from the sweat dripping off my forehead.
Just as I arrived at a level of satisfaction and could believe in the promise of a respectable show of flowers by B-Day, my landlord, who never fixes anything, decided that trimming the overgrown trees would save him money on pool filter and pump repairs. Of course most of what I'd planted was right beneath the offending trees, and the rest was a selection of fuschias, and other shade plants, appropriate to the patio which last saw full sun about five years ago.

I've just skipped a week since my last paragraph. Every spare minute has gone to hand watering the patchy grass and few remaining flowers. There was trampling by tree-trimmer boots, crushing by branches, dragging, tearing and uprooting as part of the cleanup and, "Surprise! Surprise!" broken watering system, leading into another very warm spell.
The fuchsias and begonias that I'd placed in large terra cotta pots, on the previously shaded patio, wilted visibly, the minute they felt the blistering California sun, as it rounded the naked trunk and bore through the skeleton branches of the previously impervious blockade of Blue Spruce. The cannas that have already grown quite tall for May have been dragged over to bridge the gap and offer some shade to the roots of the sweet pea trellis, beneath the stunted remains of the crabapple tree. I've thrown a few more bedding plants into the beds around the edge of the lawn but they won't reach maturity between now and Sunday, not even if there's an App for that.
It's curiously liberating to have reached the decision to quit fighting the impossible fight (in the garden). Tomorrow is B-Day minus two. Planning food, drinks, seating and cutlery for a multinational, multicultural, gang of 30-40 people is the task to be tackled.
We'll begin the morning by writing lists....




20 comments:

  1. I hope the Birthday event is enjoyable for everyone.

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  2. ♥♥♫♪Happy Birthday to you ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥¸
    ¸.•*¨*•♫♪ Happy Birthday to you ♪♫•*¨*
    •.¸♥¸.•*¨*•♫♪Happy Birthday to Artistic One!♪♫•*
    ¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ Happy Birthday to you! ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥

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    1. Birdie, you're very clever with all those decorations. Thank you.

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  3. Sounds like a marvellous party, relax and enjoy. Birthday greetings to the Artistic One.

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    1. Trudi, enjoy, yes. Relax, probably not, but no drama. I've "evented" before.

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  4. I have a friend who never tells anyone how old she is. Not even her son knows. Rather liberating. She can be however old she wants to be.

    But I hope the birthday is a great success!

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    1. Frances, TAO doesn't really keep track. He has to ask me, or count on his fingers and toes.

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  5. The thing that strikes me most of all about this post is that you sound thoroughly cheerful in spite of all your setbacks.

    You’re enjoying yourself, I can feel it.

    You are also quite right about the liberating effect of quitting fighting impossible odds. The same goes for me. Garden Open is in about five weeks’ time, I’ve hardly done anything and guess what? it’s still raining. I have the opposite problem to you, everything is growing and rotting.

    Ah well, tant pis.

    Happy Birthday to TAO.

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    1. Friko, once again, I did think of you. I have kept updated on the British weather. I assume gardens with any plants at all will win prizes. As to me, I'm cheerful. TAO is alive and well, as is our business. I have no fear of entertaining. We've put on receptions for various Art things over the years. I know I can do this. Add in enough champagne and sangria and good food, and everyone will have warm, fuzzy memories.

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  6. With all of your planning and attention to detail I can only imagine what a wonderful party this will be.

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  7. Stephen, I'm a planner and a "get-'er-done" but I can compartmentalize and not obsess over things. It's all about the people, not the stuff.

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  8. Hope you have a great party.
    I'm sure your guests will end up talking about the food, company and craic (that's Irish, look it up!) rather than the wilted begonias.
    Happy birthday to TAO

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    1. P-Tails, I wonder if that's where the term "Crackin' Good Time" comes from?

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  9. Well, it was a good try. I'm sure it will still look lovely for the party.

    Have a great time enjoying the company of family and friends and do wish TAO a Happy Birthday from me in the far State of New Jersey...where gardens should flourish....if the darn groundhogs didn't eat them.

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    1. Jean, Groundhogs and gophers could convince me to bear arms:)

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  10. Good luck with the party. I'm still at the stage where I prefer to keep things low-key. But who knows? That could all change next time around.

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    1. Martin, deny or embrace, the choice is yours. As long as there's still a party!

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  11. It's all about who is at the party, not where the party is held doll face. Your party is already a success.

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    1. Chef, You're right-on, of course. This will be a fine mixture of every age, nationality and interest. If I can keep them off politics and religion, we'll coast along into the wee hours.

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