Ready for a Close-Up

A few weeks ago, we got a new camera. For quite some time, I'd been continually frustrated by my inability to take non-blurry close-ups in the garden, as evidenced by this shot from last summer.


Some of that it definitely my fault: I've got extremely limited skills in the photography department, plus my hands tend to shake just enough to affect the outcome (although this never seems problematic or even noticable unless I'm holding a camera). My own shortcomings aside, our previous camera was about four years old, being a wedding gift M and I gave to each other. It worked fine, but as happens with most "consumer electonics," camera technology has really improved in those few years.

After reading an NYT article about the newer optical stabilizing features, I did a little Consumer Reports research and picked out a camera that I thought would do the trick. The bad news: I didn't really think about how inconvenient a camera that uses standard batteries (even when you take rechargeables into consideration) would be. The good news: National Camera Exchange is awesome and let me swap out the initial purchase for a slightly better model that includes a lithium-ion rechargeable battery: the wonderful Olympus Stylus 1010.

The result? Photos I never could have taken before, including those below. Click on any of them to see just how crisp the detail is.

Oh, and in addition to providing fantastic customer service, National Camera Exchange includes a voucher for a free photography class with every camera purchase. Between the class, which I'll take sometime this summer, and the new camera, I'm really tickled about what's in store for photgraphing the garden this year.

Work-Day Twins Outing

Whatever Aeric's selling, L1 isn't buying it.


We didn't plan to order this much tequila, but it was two-for-one with a game ticket!

The Finishing Touches

Not to suggest that I'm done making changes for the year, but for the most part, the beds in the backyard are done!

Back Bed

Here's how it "started" (after I cleaned it all up) this year.

A few weeks later (you can tell by how much bigger the perennials got), here's how it looked after rearranging some things (according to the nerdy garden plan) and adding a few new items.

Here's the final (for now) version, after adding the alyssum edging.

Tomato Beds

These are pretty much the same as last year, but with more teepees (so each tomato plant gets its own support) and alyssum edging.

Front Bed

By the end of last year, the stachys (lamb's ears) had completely taken over the front bed. They looked really ratty by mid-summer and then just kept getting bigger until they almost swallowed up the nearby annuals. M's take: "Looks like you got ten pounds of sh-t in a five pound bag." (He's so eloquent. But he's right -- look below.)

So I pulled it all out and gave half of it to Seza ...
... making room for a totally different approach.

Here's what was left after the clean-up.

I added a mix of annuals and perennials, following the nerdy garden plan and emphasizing contrasting foliage and butterfly/bird appeal.

Got a little excited while doing the planting and thought, "What the heck -- I'll expand the bed a few square feet."

Here's the "final for now" version, complete with alyssum edging.

So am I done for the year? Not even close! Now come all the new projects (pending budgetary approval), including:

• A more permanent pathway between the patio and the hammock (last year's path was just some hardwood chips on the ground);
• A pathway around the side of the house, leading from the front to the veranda, edged by some interesting ornamentals;
• Installing a shade garden (I'm thinking Looking Glass and Jack Frost brunnera, Ghost and Japanese painted ferns, and maybe some space for flowering annuals like torenia -- definitely no impatiens) under the pine tree to make it prettier and reduce the amount of lawn we have;
• Moving the lilacs, currently languishing in the shade to the south of our patio, to a sunny spot next to the front porch so they can really do their thing;
• Something with the shady part of the back fence (virginia creeper? short reed fencing?);
• Putting in a bed of drought-resistant plants -- anchored by tall ornamental grasses -- outside our dining room window, giving us more privacy and less lawn;
• And, come fall, expanding all of the backyard beds so I can have more space for edibles, a small walking path through the beds and, again, less lawn. :)

Is all of this going to happen this year? Not likely (it's certainly not all likely to make it through the budget review process), but it's nice to dream.

The Wrath of Sparklegirl: The Revenge of the Squirrels

If you were thinking that 2008 would be the year that our heroine makes peace with the tree rats who have so thwarted her gardening efforts in the past, think again.

Last summer, based on information from the local BB-gun store owner (who would have thought I'd ever type that?), I moved the birdbath over to the tree area where the squirrels live -- and it seemed to be working. Evidently, they were getting enough moisture and no longer felt the need to dug up my plants or remove their blooms for a quick snack. Things went relatively well for the remainder of the summer and I made a mental note for this year to be sure to "water the squirrels."

And I have certainly done so! In fact, M would say that maybe I went a little overboard with the birdbaths this year (granted, my reasons for doing so were primarily bird-, not squirrel-, related). We currently have three birdbaths in the backyard: the one I had last year (in approximately the same location) ...

... a pretty new one I bought as a treat for myself and because I was excited to have a birdbath closer to the veranda ...

... and this ground-level one (it's the top portion of a regular concrete birdbath and was a very good deal -- only $15), which is definitely being used by the birds but which I really intended for the squirrels. I wanted them to have no reason to mess with my plants!

All spring (at least, the portion of it that's been warm enough for being outdoors), I kept an eye out for evidence of the little buggers' plant-munching habits. I found a few holes dug here and there in containers, but no actual digging up and/or eating.

Until ...

Remember how I'm growing dwarf sunflowers again this year?

Evidently, the tree rats have other ideas. Grrr....

Once again, just like with my poor dianthus, they ripped off the bloom, took a taste, and left the thing there for me to find.

Seriously. They're asking for it.

The Other Neighbors

Our deep appreciation for the Awesome NeighborsTM -- Tim and Seza -- to our north has been amply documentated here. With regards to the neighbors on the other side, that's a different story.

Until about two years ago, the house just south of ours was occupied by Joe, a rather quirky octogenarian who was very well-intentioned, but a bit challenging as a neighbor. He had an extremely yappy and unfriendly dog, a habit of referring to "the coloreds" (yes, I know you're old, but let's move on) and no qualms about strolling right into our house uninvited to drop off some extra food he'd made.

After Joe fell and was put in "the home" by his kids, the house sat empty for about a year, although his grandson (about our age) came by from time to time with his sweet yellow lab, Princess, to do some light repair work. At some point last spring, we encountered Joe's son and daughter-in-law in the backyard, who mentioned that the daughter-in-law's nephew would be moving into the house soon. We had some mixed emotions: it's better for the neighborhood not to have the house stand empty, but we'd come to enjoy having a little privacy on that side of the house.

My initial impression of the nephew -- let's call him E -- was fine. I was out planting things in the backyard, he stopped by and made some small talk about gardening (promising, I thought), and it was fine. However, subsequent interactions did quite a bit, almost immediately, to dampen that sentiment. E seems to like nothing so much as talking about himself -- how busy his business is, how much money he's making, how brilliant his ideas for the house are -- at inopportune times. I expected a basic awareness of group dynamics and human interaction would lead him to think, "Hm, Laura and Mason are entertaining guests and having a conversation with them right now. Maybe this isn't the time to interrupt with a monologue about how successful I am." Alas, no.

But everything that E lacks, his partner has in spades. He's a thoughtful and considerate conversationalist, subtle and warm, and he reads body language in that wonderful way that allows you to sit alone in the backyard without worrying that he's going to ambush you with unwanted interaction. We hung out with him a bit at the annual block party (which E, conveniently, couldn't attend) and were really impressed. We love the partner; we despise E.

M, for his part, hasn't necessarily hidden his disdain. I'm not so good at that and have been a bit more conversational, but there's no real reason for E to think we're close or anything. On the flip side, the partner is really that kind of person who would be a lovely neighbor, so when we started talking about putting up some kind of fence on that side of the yard, I was conflicted. Yes, the privacy would be very good, particularly since our patio is only a few feet from their yard. But I hated to do something that might offend the partner and upset our potential future interactions with him. The fact that M preferred to take any major funding for a fence and redirect it toward a Europe trip didn't un-complicate the matter.

That last issue was resolved when I found some inexpensive English reed fencing in a gardening catalog, six feet tall and "densely woven for maximum privacy."(I figured that "maximum privacy" in reed fence terms is probably comparable to "just enough of a barrier" in real life.) I ordered it in April and, while waiting for the weather to warm up so we could install it, fretted about how to tell E and his partner. Although within our rights, throwing the fence up with no warning seemed rude.

"You do it," I told M. "I'm so bad with conflict."

"I'll have the conversation if you'll write me some talking points," he answered. Done. We agreed he'd talk to the partner, because that was the relationship we wanted to maintain.

A couple of weeks went by and somehow we never bumped into the partner, although we saw E come and go frequently. We were having dinner on the patio one of the first warm evenings of spring when E stepped out of his back porch and draped himself on one of the trellises I'd put up last summer.

"You know I love you guys, right?" he asked with a grin.

WTF? M and I looked at each other, and I looked at E and said, "Sounds like there's a 'but' coming."

"Well," E continued, "it's just that I was thinking about putting up some cheap reed fencing here. Nothing fancy, just a little something because, you know" -- and this is my favorite part of this story -- "I don't want to have to watch you eat."

!!!

My jaw dropped. I looked at M. "Did you two already talk?" I asked him. He shook his head, his mouth also open in surprise.

"Um," I said, turning back to E, "I've already bought some."

"What?" he asked.

"Got it a few weeks ago. English reed fencing. Six feet."

His face fell, as if he was offended that we'd thought of it first. "Oh. Well. I guess that's great, then." He brightened up again. "You know, I've got big plans for this backyard, including a vegetable garden, so it will also help keep out the rabbits."

That's it. He's a rabbit hater. We hate him.

He continued, "You gonna put it all the way around?"

No, dumbass, we like the other neighbors, I thought. We'd create our own little gated community if we could. But I said, "We're going to start with this side and see how it goes."

"Okay. Well, cool. Talk to you later."

He went back inside. M and I looked at each other, and I said, "The nice thing is, now I really don't have to give a crap about his feelings anymore."

We put up the fence the first nice day after that conversation. It came in three "bolts" of fencing, like fabric, to be tied on to existing fence poles with waxed black cord.

Took about 90 minutes and presented some challenges (I got a nasty splinter under my finger nail; M got pretty frustrated with trying to keep the thing from flopping over while I tied it to the existing wire fence), but it's there and it looks pretty nice. Not quite as "densely woven" as I expected -- you can pretty much see right through it on a sunny day -- but I think it will get the job done.