Yard art

I've had several requests for updated yard pictures (from people who saw the yard THEN and are wondering why I'm so beat up looking on Monday). I've said it before that it takes some imagination to 'see' what it will look like in 2 years but it's making me happy.

Front yard (beside porch) The first picture and this one are different veiws of the same bed. Full of camellia, lorapetalums and spirea with some annual/herbs for color.

Other side of porch:. There actually a hydrangea in the bed closest to the house with lorapetulums. On the outside of the fence, there's a perennial bed with Rosemary, Lychnis (Rose Campion), assorted daylilies and Scabiosa (Pincushion flower). I also planted Sweet Peas but they got hit pretty hard with frost.

From the sidewalk (notice the tent-we camped out recently for E.'s birthday). A bridal wreath spirea with cherry laurels as handmaidens. There's a Knock-Out rose and a Beauty berry bush down the line.

The long view of the side yard:
Nothing too exciting here. We ran out of steam and have to put down about 2 more trucks of mulch before I can transplant a cherry tree and put in a bunch of perennials. There is a lovely red cutleaf Japanese maple in this bed but it's pretty puny.

Turning the corner:
On the inside of the fence there are shasta daisies, echinacea (Purple coneflower), Asters, and black-eyed susans (and a Rosemary and some sage)

Suburban Island

I spent the weekend mucking around in my teeny, tiny yard. I was happily sorting and digging and weeding and just imagining the glory of this yard in a few years. I was also watching the reaction of the people walking by to see if my yard actually looks like a masterpiece in progress or if it looks like a hot mess in need of a good clean up instead. My ability to self-delude is mammoth so occasionally I like to gauge my perspective by observing others. Not that the opinions of anyone else will have an ounce of impact on the direction this garden is going. I just want to know if I’m the Weirdo on the corner with the wacked out landscaping or if I’m the Hipster on the corner using plant material as my palette. Judging by most facial expressions, I’m neither avant garde nor batty-just doing a good job. I choose to believe their lack of vision revolves the strategic placement of dinosaurs, swords, and diggers my son has left as yard sculpture.

Anyway, while I was mucking around in my teeny, tiny yard and being unusually persnickety about the placement of plants, I mused about the differences between this yard and my last yard. (the picture above is my old back yard when it was new. To clarify, it's about a third of my old back yard and it's before I planted the entire jungle). With my last yard, a trip to the nursery was a cavalier spending spree. A little of this, a dash of that-there was room for all of it. If I wasn't sure it would work, I'd just put it in the backyard where no one could see behind the 7 foot tall privacy fence. With our new house, we are public in a big way. Our fence is only 36 inches high and we are smack on one of the busiest corners in our neighborhood. As an additional barrier, our house has a Charleston feel to it that demands some southern charm when working on the garden. It is pretty important that I stick to a palette, that I make good choices regarding mature size, and that the adolescent years aren't too painful. I backed away from several favorite plants this weekend at the wholesale nursery and I almost tackled my husband to keep him from purchasing some big trees just because he likes the look of them. (Thank goodness he's not like this about pets.) All the constraints made me think about the desert island theme Lindy at Toast used in October. If you were marooned on a desert island and could only have 10 foods, what would they be? Since there is very little difference between gardening and eating to me, I nicely transitioned to "If you were stuck in a Suburban Island and could only have a few plants, what would those plants be?" Several hours later, I had a long list going in my head while I pulled up dandelions.

Didn't I already make this list when I moved and plopped snippets into my two big pots? Yes. And, er, no. I knew I would have access to plant material once I moved so I was only taking the comforting or the extra-specials that I had little chance of finding at a commercial nursery. What I began to list in my head were plants that my yard would just not be complete without. Plants that leave a hole in my heart if I had to eliminate them from my garden forever. And plants that I wished more people would grow instead of reaching blindly for the Helleri holly or the gardenia.

Now, I know these plants will not put me into the cool gardener club. In fact, some other bloggers (who I enjoy reading and whose opinons I value) will consider some of my required plants pretty passe'. But, I also like cool whip (despite it’s disturbing ingredient list) and refuse to read another Jodi Picoult book no matter how much my book club insists that it is the selected book this month and we HAVE to read it. I like what I like. These are the plants that are vital to my existence and I see no reason to snub them:

#1. RosemaryIf I could only have one plant and one plant only, it would be rosemary. Rosmarinus officinalis to be exact. There are lots of members of the Lamiaceae family that I enjoy but rosemary is the preferred family member for both aesthetic and practical reasons. I love the evergreen-gray of the foliage and the shock of blue-violet flowers that erupt suddenly and then disappear. I love the tenacity that allows me to clip it and clip it and clip it and still thrive as its ssquare stemmed spikes reach for the sun. I love little pots of rosemary on the table and large bushes of rosemary spidering around flowers. I love a sprig of rosemary in pocket or on bread. I love to inhale the smell of rosemary fresh-picked in the morning or to catch a whiff of it on the breeze in the evening. In short, there is NO WAY that I do not love Rosemary.

Versatility should be rosemary 's middle name. There are hundreds of uses for it. In a landscape it can be used as winter annual, a perennial accent, topiary, or a small shrub. It will be satisfied in a pot or happy planted in the ground (provided you it keep it evenly moist but not soaked). In the kitchen you can use rosemary in any course, at any meal. It is great in bread, perfect on chicken, delightful tossed in salads AND in can even hold it's on in dessert (I dare you to give rosemary gelato a try). Apparently rosemary has some medicinal properties too. In my current teeny tiny yard, I have 8 rosemary plants. I'm not sure that's enough but I may have to be satisfied with it for now.


#2. Camellia (japonica)
On Mother’s Day Sunday, it is traditional (where I’m from) to wear a blossom to church on Mother's Day Sunday in honor of your mother. If your mother is living, you wear a red or a pink blossom. If your mother has gone on to the ever-after, you wear a white blossom. Some people actually buy these blossoms from the super market. I am disturbed by the idea of buying an orchid wrapped in plastic from a chain in the same way that hothouse tomatoes bother me. Perfectly shaped, perfectly packaged, blemish free bits of boring. My Mother’s Day blossom was hand selected from my great-Aunt L.’s yard and pinned on with a safety pin. (My childhood weekends were always spent with my fabulous great-Aunt L. and I walked to church with her on Sunday mornings. And yes, every weekend was spent with her-including Mother’s Day weekend.) If we were having an especially cool spring, her Camellia bush would be loaded to the hilt with bodacious, red flowers that seemed as big as my head. I would insist on the biggest, usually dripping with dew and would march proudly to church feeling like a sophisticated lady. In my new yard, I have planted two Camellias and if they grow slowly (which they usually do) I shouldn’t have to pull anything out of that bed for 5 years or so. By that time, something will have died probably so I won’t have to pull anything out. One of my camellias is a bodacious red C. japonica and the other is a mysterious C. sasanqua (smaller leaves, usually smaller blooms). Now if I could just get to church....

#3. Hydrangea

I think all beds look a little better with a hydrangea thrown in. Any hydrangea will do for me-I like all types. Pink, blue, purple, white, green. I even like that new maroon kind with purple leaves. Hydrangeas are a nice combo of austere Southern charm and trumped up floozy. They make great cut flowers, humming-birds like (some of) them and they're just plain easy to grow. The only complaint I’ve witnessed (in other people) is a inclination to go mucking around with lime or other soil amendments to adjust their color. I like to just plant them and see what God gives me. According to my landscape plan, I should only have 1 hydrangea but since I like hydrangea more than I like viburnum, I have substituted. I’m hoping I can stop at four but no promises.


#4. Pansy

I adore pansies. I think of them as the Rachel Ray of the flowering annuals and they are apparently just as divisive. You either LOVE them or you LOATHE them. They are consistently my favorite annual and I am unable to envision a winter without their little flat-faced heads. I am happiest with purple and yellow combinations but really have never met a pansy I didn't like. I even enjoy the tackiness of mass plantings in front of shopping centers or neighborhoods although I prefer them on the smaller scale. Maybe it's because they bloom in the winter when everything else is sleeping. Maybe it's because they are just so dang perky and resilient. I know there are areas where pansies don't make it through but they can weather just about anything an NC winter can throw at them. A few days of looking tired and then the sun comes out and up pops the pansies. Pansies don't really require tons of fertilizer or fiddling which is another plus (since I forget to do that stuff pretty often-especially in the rainy winter).

#5 DaylilyI almost left daylilies off of this list and what a mistake that would be! Daylilies are so unassuming, so integral to gardens that you often forget how many kinds are available and how tolerant they are. Daylilies are grasses that have glorious blooms that soar up like trumpets on thin graceful stalks and erupt in a riot of color. Or, they are small little trumpets that toot occasionally in pastel shades. You can grow them just about anywhere, they make an excellent cut-flower, and require little in the way of nutrition or care. They are also easy to propagate-just dig them up and split them. They are also good at making you new friends because they're so fantastic people can't believe your generosity when you give them one. I brought 3 with me when I moved and have bought 2 more. Those 5 are just the start though since I like to mix in the ones that rebloom (like Stella D’oro) with the really crazy colored ones that only give it one shot. I have distant relative who is a daylily breeder (link to http://www.ahsregion15.org/Summer2004/marlette.php) that I’m hoping to visit this summer to get some zingers.

I couldn’t really come up with 10 plants like Lindy does with food items. I don’t think there’s any reason every home owner shouldn’t have at least one of the above plants tucked into their yard and apartment dwellers could even have 3 of the 5 (a pot of daylily, rosemary, and pansy looks great in every season). I might do a post next of the plants I think should be banned from suburban yards. Mostly, I’m just exhausted thinking about how much more planting I have to do!

Family Trees

All of my childhood, my maternal Grandparents lived beside my Dad. My parents divorced when I was young and to say my mother is erratic is an understatement. It was almost unheard of for a father to get custody of his kids no matter how unstable the mother may be (although I understand that the rules are changing a little). My Dad is so traditional, I'm not sure he even knew men could be single parents despite his obvious desire to be close to his children. So, home to me was always my Grandparents' home and it was also always near my Dad. Between both families, we had about 7 acres of land to roam around. Our 'yard' was covered with a hodgepodge of pasture, fruit trees, an acre of victory garden, and every ornamental plant known to the southern gardener. Each summer morning, I would walk to the vegetable garden with my grandmother to see what was ready for picking. I would pop Morning Glory buds and slip cherry tomatoes off of the vine for my little brother. Each summer evening, I would walk around the yard with my dad or my MawMaw (grandfather) and look at each plant specimen to see what progress had been made during the day. For my cousins and siblings, the gardens of our grandparents, great-Aunts or parents were the central focus of all our adventures. I do not remember a time when I did not know the common names of all the plants around me.

I have come to understand as an adult that this knowledge of flora is not necessarily normal. On a trip cross-country with my future husband, I realized that I am unable to drive in regions without varied flora along the roadside (say in South Dakota or Wyoming). Why? Because I identify plants in my head as I drive down the road as a way of staying awake and alert.

In our first house as a married couple, I had created a hodgepodge yard that was comforting and beautiful (in my opinion). While I am absolutely against knick-knacks, I habitually collect plants that have emotional significance. Collecting plants can be a very dangerous habit even if you don't intend to move. Plants are living organisms so they can die (!!!), they can just look bad, or they can overgrow their spot. In our old house, I had rosemary and peonies transplanted from my good friend ec, thyme along the footpath, peonies from my paternal grandmother, a bearded iris that I gave to my maternal grandmother for Mother's Day two years before she died, and countless other greenery laden with memories.

When we decided that our small house in the country needed to be traded in for a city yard, I knew moving was going to be tricky. What would I take from my large, overplanted yard that would fit in my new, teeny tiny yard? On top of downsizing considerations, we moved in the middle of summer which is NOT when you want to be transplanting. The choices were hard but I am never better than when I have a deadline (ask my coworkers). I limited myself to two large pots stuffed with odds and ends. Once planted, I took these 2 pots (yes, only 2 pots!) to my dad's house for babysitting until we could focus on the yard. One pot had a sprout of thyme, some purple cannas given to me by a neighbor, a rosemary plant, and a peice of my grandmother's iris. The other pot contained a lovely variegated ivy and assorted daylilies. Since my paternal grandmother is still kicking and LOVES to give me plants, I'm sure I can trade a day of yard labor for more peonies.

We spent the fall unloading boxes and the winter building a fence, getting landscaping plans approved and living life. The official landscape plan above was provided by my good buddy L.-a landscaping professional and my twin from another family. We have had to make a few changes due to power lines, sewage pipes, and general plant preferences but the gist is the same. L. likes viburnum and holly but I like hydrangea and indian hawthorne.

Our new yard was incredibly, undeniably terrible. It's only .10 of an acre, sod laid down over concrete, full of weeds and on a busy corner. The house is unusually tall and narrow with two porches -essentially a box. The previous owner had lived there only a year and had done little to improve the soil or the curb appeal. When we looked at the house, I KNEW exactly what to do to that yard to make it charming and cottagey. Unfortunately, we had a lot of other things that had to happen first. I hid my head in shame all through last summer and fall and winter. I amused myself by putting in a few annuals and some herbs to keep the cooking decent.

It is spring and the gloves are on! We are making my garden dreams reality and I am basically humming with green thumb energy. Our fence is built (see previous post ). Last weekend we put in 3 truckloads of mulch and planted 20 plants. Only 2 truckloads of mulch and 20 more plants to go and the garden will be started. I can see my vision beginning to take shape but it will be at least a year before other people will see the fruits of our work. Daisies and roses of all colors will peek over the fence, small trees will shade the side yard, herbs are already peeking around. I walk around my yard every morning and every night to see what's happened during the day. Yesterday I taught my son how to recognize the first violets of spring.

Our family land has been sold and will eventually become a hotel or a shopping center. My dad lives on 5 new acres only 15 minutes from my new house. When he comes to visit me (or his grandson more likely) we walk around my yard inspecting what's growing. He asks me what a certain plant is, where I got it or when I'm going to give him a piece of it. Last weekend I crowed to him on our early morning phone chat that my grandmother's iris was up and green in one of the big pots he babysat last summer. I could hear his chest puff out-he knows how important family trees (and shrubs and perennials) are.

Full-Ton Cookies

My boss's name is Fulton and he loves coconut and almonds. I started making these cookies in his honor about a year ago. The are really really good and can easily put a full ton on your hips if you eat to many. Like most sweets, they're better when shared. (In full disclosure, this recipe is almost entirely from The New Best Recipe cookbook put out by cook's illustrated. Since I can do this recipe in my sleep now, I feel as though it's mine!)

Ingredients (Oven should be preheated to 350F)
2 cups plus 2 TBL all purpose flour
1/2 t salt
1/2 t baking soda
1 1/2 sticks of warmed butter (not melted)
1 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
1 egg
1 egg yolk
1 T vanilla
1 1/2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup almond slivers toasted
1 cup shredded coconut toasted

Mix the first 3 ingredients in a medium bowl and set aside.
Cream the butter and sugars until blended.
Add the eggs and vanilla.
Then slowly add in the flour mix.
Once the flour mix is incorporated-fold in the chips, almonds and coconut.

Roll about 2 TBL into a ball of and then break the ball in half. Turn the halves ball side down, put them side by side and smush them together. DO NOT look away from your son while doing this or you will look back to find a round cheeked blond kid trying to pretend he has nothing in his mouth. Place on a greased cookie sheet or line a cookie sheet with parchement paper. Repeat. Bake for 15 minutes and then cool on a rack for 5 minutes. Eat warm.

Happy New Year!

In the southern US, we celebrate the New Year by eating certain foods that will ensure good health and wealth in the coming year. The dishes vary slightly depending on the region and where a family originated from. Generally speaking, we eat some form of green, some form of bean, and some kind of pork. I have friends of German descent who eat pork sausage, sauerkraut and leave the beans out. In South Carolina, I hear they eat hoppin' John with collards and corn bread. A very typical version in Central NC (where I'm from) is hog jowls, collard greens and black-eyed peas. My family substituted a pork roast for the hog jowls but kept the black-eyes and collard greens.

You absolutely MUST eat some of each item. Greens for folding money or cash, beans for coins or change and pork for health. It was non-negotiable. Growing up, I remember dreading the New Year's meal. The problem for me was not the change (peas) or the health (pork)-it was the cash (greens). Everybody loves cash right? Sometimes cash is a little hard to swallow. See, my mom really didn't know how to cook greens and only made them once a year anyway. She managed to turn a side-dish into a torture implement by cooking them and cooking them until there was this slimy, unseasoned sludge in a pan. Miserable. I admit I was wary of cooked greens well into my adult life and substituted spinach salad or cabbage for my greens every New Year.

Ab0ut 6 years ago, I met a cooked green that changed my mind. K. and I were in Miami and wandered into an unmarked lunch buffet run by Argentineans or Brazilians-it's unclear their exact nationality. The only thing posted was the price and no one spoke any language that K. or I knew. It was probably the best buffet I've ever been to-loaded with rice and pork and beans. All fresh and tasty with spice combinations I hadn't experienced until then. The dish that kept me going back were these sautéed greens loaded with some kind of salted pork, spices, oil and a little twang of vinegar. I still don't know exactly what green they were-some kind of kale I think. From that day on, my affection for greens has grown to a minor obsession (I know, this just doesn't seem like me to be obsessed with one thing.....). Anyway, I will try almost any green now. I still meet the occasional collard that's been cooked beyond recognition and is not worth eating. But, I also meet garlicky chard that's warm and crunchy or traditional southern collards cooked as intended (which are also very good).

This year, we started the New Year's eating pork chops with apples and onions, Hopping John, and sautéed red chard. It was my first attempt at making Hopping John from scratch and I meant to use the recipe from the big yellow Gourmet cookbook (http://www.amazon.com/Gourmet-Cookbook-More-Than-Recipes/dp/0618374086/sr=8-1/qid=1168004555/ref=pd_bbs_1/104-0007210-3186346?ie=UTF8&s=books). But, I basically didn't read it fully and wound up making my own recipe. It turned out tasty anyway so I thought I'd share.

Just a note about authenticity, most Hoppin' John has the rice cooked in with the beans. The Gourmet Cookbook recipe called for cooking them separately so that's what I tried. I like the results but I still don't feel quite right calling it Hoppin' John.

Skippin' John:
4 cups of soaked Black Eyed Peas
2 smoked ham hocks (pork shanks)
1/4 teaspoon red pepper
8-10 cups of water

Basically, throw it all in a pot and let it simmer away for 2 hours or until the beans are soft. Go shopping and leave your husband to watch them-he might take a nap and forget to check the water level. You will come home to an *ALMOST* disaster that turns into the best tasting beans you've ever made. Serve over rice.