Dear Blog, I did some good work in the yard this morning. I transplanted the last of the basil seedlings and three milkweed seedlings, pulled out the going-to-pot carnations, culling the freshest to propagate, and pruned an overgrown pink geranium plant, which cuttings I’ll plop into a row beneath the eating room. (Ha! I wrote a long complicated sentence intentionally. Did it work?)  While sorting the carnation branches, I spied a snail perched on a branch. The little fellow gave a great performance. Yep, I made a video of it making its way out of the raised bed that included going by, over, under, and around a dried avocado leaf.  Snail seemed to be booking it, sliding three minutes to travel 12 inches or so. “Come outside,” I said to the Husband from the screened patio door. “It’s beautiful. I’ve heard four different birds singing.” And, he did, sitting nearby perusing the Internet while I played with the plants. Every so often we chatted, we sang, we laughed. I have a wonde...

Dear Blog, Mama’s roses continue to reach for the sky. Not as many like it was when they were under her guidance. I keep pruning branches shorter to revive the bushes, hoping they’ll become full again. This year two blooming hollyhocks grace the front yard. It only took seven years of sowing seeds for them to finally take. The first hollyhock to bloom is gorgeous pink and gigantic! Even without its tippy-top pointed straight up, it hovers a bit over the roof line.  This hollyhock is growing where I didn’t toss seeds, surprise, surprise. When it first popped up, I thought it was a volunteer squash plant, then as it grew and grew and grew, a sunflower it must be. I like to think of this hollyhock as the mother plant of future generations of hollyhocks to come. One can hope. Sincerely yours, Septuagenarian Barefoot Susie

  “I’m so excited, and I just can’t hide it./I’m about to lose control and I think I like it….” Who remembers that 1982 song and which group sang it?  Why am I so excited? Today I received an email from Baker Creek that my heirloom seed order, which I placed yesterday, is in the mail. Yi-haw!  Here’s what I ordered. Veggies 1. Blauhilde Bean (climbing) and Cantare Bean (bush, la la la la) 2. Abashi Bittermelon (from Okinawa) 3. Orchard Baby Sweet Corn (this with Blauhilde will be part of the Husband’s Three Sister plot) 4. Nagasaki Long Eggplant 5. Serpente de Sicilia Cucuzzi (a long, pale green gourd, which from the photo looks like the Filipino tabongow) 6. Job’s Tears (seems you can make rosary beads out of this grain) 7. Ishikura Bunching Onion 8. Banana Sweet Pepper Flowers 9. Canterbury Bells, rainbow mix 10. Candyfloss Red Cosmos 11. Twinkles Phlox 12. Ki No Mai Stock (butter-creme yellow, so stated the description) 13. Hopi Sunflower (supposedly the Hopi used the ...

I did it. Today, I did precisely what I said I will not ever do again, to randomly toss handfuls of wildflower seeds in the yard.  La, la, la may lupine be sparkling all over the front of the house this spring la la la la. Yellow coreopsis, too! 

I enjoy raking autumn leaves. Love it, to be precise. I like the rustle of the leaves, the scraping of the rake, the scrunching beneath my feet, and the crinkling as I shove them into a box or bag. I don’t rake up all the leaves. I’m not Mama, I tell the Husband. She had raked and picked up leaves nearly every day that she lived in her house, about 28 years. I’ve seen her pull drying leaves off the fruit trees. Be ahead of the game, I suppose. She would definitely shudder if she saw how unkempt both the front and back yards are.  Leaves, leaves, hello, leaves. Yep, I was that kid who loved to stomp through leaves.  P.S. Here are a couple of stories about Mama and l-e-a-v-e-s. Mama and the Leaves   Don’t Take My Picture  

Today’s adventure was creating a space in the front yard for tulips, freesias, hyacinths, and lilies of the Inca to pop up come Spring. Our yard is clayish, so we shall see what grows.  Dig, grunt. dig, groan. . . . I double dug the ground along with working in potting soil. It is, and will be, so very worth it. The tulip and hyacinth bulbs are guaranteed to grow, according to the package. I wonder what the company pumped into the bulbs to make such a statement.  Imagine, red tulips and red hyacinths mingling with yellow and blue freesias and pink lilies of the Inca (aka alstroemeria and Peruvian lilies).  Although, the lilies may bloom way after the others are done for the season. I’m fine with that.

This year I’m planting cover crop plants to help build up the soil. To make it easy- peasy, I’ve mixed different types of seeds into a bowl—buckwheat, red clover, lupine, chia, calendula, black-eye Susan, poppy, coreopsis, dill, and mustard—which I’ll toss around the backyard tomorrow. Yep, that is my plan. Should all the flowers bloom? Imagine….Wow! Today I sowed carrots, parsnips, and wintermelon radish seeds directly into the ground. A few days ago, lettuce, red mustard, and Chinese broccoli (methinks) seeds were planted. Just in time for the rain that ought to start tomorrow.  We’ll be getting four days worth of rain, so say the weather experts. We have a local news station that likes to call their meteorologists the weather authorities. I suppose. Our local news stations feature the weather three times during the 30 minutes of news. The meteorologists come on within the first five minutes of news to give a teaser about the weather. Then ten minutes or so later, they are back ...

Move a brick. Move a rock. Dig here and not there.  One small change any where in the yard and the whole yard looks and feels different. That was my revelation this afternoon while moving bricks, rocks, and things around so I could dig up gardening beds. Then I thought, ha! I’m rearranging the back yard. Again, for the who-knows-how-many times and more than likely I shall do again for another who-knows-how-many-times more. The Husband ought to be happy that I do most of my rearranging frenzy in the yard. We did move furniture around the house a few weeks ago, and I heard not a grumble.  Cheers!

1. Who is snacking on the sunflowers? They only started sprouting a few days ago. A happy thing because the seeds were several years old.  2. Was it the snails? the slugs? the aphids? the birds? the squirrels?  3. I don’t mind sharing some of the sprouting sunflowers with the bugs and such, but not all. 4. If the offenders could only read, I’d post a sign to tell them “No More for You! Move along!” 5. The experts say that the scent of marigold drives aphids away, so this morning I planted marigolds near the sprouting sunflowers. You go, marigolds! 6. It turns out marigolds attract slugs and snails. Make marigold plants your sacrificial lambs, say some experts. The snails and slugs will feast on the leaves and flowers at night to be easily picked off come morning.  7. “Marigold or sunflower?” asked one snail to another. “Smelly thick leaves or young tender shoots?” 8. We shall see to tomorrow which the snails and slugs liked. 9. If I get my act together this evening, I’ll ...

1. Some time today (or tomorrow, or the next day), I’ll pull out the oak seedling next to the mailbox. I hope it’ll be easy. It’s more than a foot tall. Could it be considered a sapling? 2. I thought it was a holly plant so I left it alone last year. Who doesn’t like holly come Christmas season?  3. It turns out we have quite a few oak seedlings growing around the house. Some have volunteered in pots, some in the ground.  4. The birds and squirrels must’ve heard me say it would be nice to grow an oak tree or two.    Who else would’ve brought the acorns and dropped them at random? 5. The Husband thinks the acorns were introduced by me. I tend to pick up acorns with the intention of planting them, but they mostly are left in pockets, the car, and forgotten safe places. 6. More than likely, the few acorns I didn’t stow away, I cavalierly tossed in the yard, invoking Mama’s incantation of “If they grow, they grow.” 7. So, yeah, acorns have sprouted all over the front and...

  Bzzz. Bzzzz. Bzz, Bzzz, Bzzz. BZZZ! Translation: Get out of our territory, dammit! So sniped the black carpenter bees as they buzzed back and forth beside me. I t was past eleven o’clock. Eating time for the bees.   “Don’t sting me,” said I, snipping away at the dead daisy and chrysanthemum heads. “I just got a little more to go.” Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz. “Go ahead and eat. I’m not bothering you.” Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzzz.  A honey bee landed on a daisy within arms reach. It paid me no mind. I froze while it did its thing. “See,” I said to the carpenter bees. “That’s all you have to do.” “Drink and be merry” said the honey bee as it flew off. BZZZZ!

I collected rose hips this winter, with thoughts to plant them and see if they would grow. Silly me thought I could and would remember what color of rose each bag of rose hips are. Oh well. I’m going to plant them anyway. I love surprises.

March, march, march to my own drum. A congo drum, please. It's a gorgeous California no-rain-in-sight early Spring (late Winter, if you prefer) day. I would be playing outdoors in the dirt right now if I hadn't wrenched my good knee on Friday. Maybe wrenched isn't the correct word, but the pain certainly matches the word.   I stepped sideways on uneven ground in the front yard to show the Husband something when my left knee buckled. A chicken leg being snapped at its joint flashed through my head.  I am very glad to report that my sense of decorum and appropriate behavior are still intact: I did not scream out in pain nor utter a curse word for the whole street to hear. Indoors, another story. Before that all happened, I was playing in the yard, deadheading, raking, trimming, planting, and doing all kinds of fun things. At one point, a robin flew into the ornamental pear tree and we had a pleasant time hanging out. The robin even let the Husband join us. We wondered whet...

 I like the look of rust. . . and fallen leaves. . .and winter in our backyard.

I've been digging. Here a little dig. There a big dig. All over the yard, both front and back. The last several days I've focused on finding shady spots for potted succulents in the backyard. Those parched guys looked so happy and relaxed after a few hours in the shade absorbing a long drink of water.  I've also been digging beds for the extra bean, tomato, and pepper seedlings that sprouted. I can't bring myself to throw them out.  They deserve a chance to produce fruit, too. The Husband built a trellis for the beans to climb. Pretty cool, huh. Mama would've given him a giggle, grin, and an extra nod of well done. This morning I dug the biggest bed for the tomato and pepper seedlings. Double dig, work in soil amendment, turn soil one more time, and let rest for tomorrow's planting. Daddy would've been proud, by golly, by gee that I paid attention to how he prepared the land for his vegetable garden. That's a story for another day. Digging, shov...

1. I've been working in the yard the past few days. It's getting where I prefer being outdoors. What am I talking about?  I've always rather be outside. It was when I was living in San Francisco that I got used to being indoors. After all, I can walk around without shoes. 2. Speaking of being barefoot. Last night we watched Sayonara , starring Marlon Brando, a 1957 film based in Japan about the prejudice against interracial relationships, in particular, marriage (Heavens to Murgatroyd) between American military men and Japanese women. There was also a hint of lust between a Japanese man and an American woman, which probably drew both an aghast! and a titillated hmmm from the audience.  3. There's a similar theme in the musical South Pacific . In one scene, the American officer, who's in love with an island girl, and the American Army nurse, who's horrified the deceased wife of the man she loves was an island woman, commiserate about having to foll...

"Do you think someone might report our backyard as a nuisance?" "Nobody can see back there." answered the Husband.  "Snoops can," I said, thinking about that drone we saw one afternoon turning around above our house. I wondered if it had followed us home. The bastard. As Mama liked to say after I said something weird, but quite entertaining to her, "You have too much imagination." "It's nobody's business how our backyard looks," the Husband said.  I imagined him word-sparring with a snoop. The Husband, my hero.  At this particular point in time, the backyard looks like a colorful junkyard in the Spring. I find its look comforting. It's familiar to a time past. It gives me strength to keep on keeping on. I wonder if that's how Mama felt when she played out there, growing her vegetables and tending to her flowers.  It's my turn now to transform the backyard into a fantasy of my making. I have...

"Why are you cleaning? "asked Molly the pinky-nose (wild) Cat, as she scrambled among our feet, the broom, and the vacuum cleaner. "Are we having another party?" Nope, it's the 23rd, our monthly housecleaning date, a 2020 venture. So far, so good. With the Husband and I working together, we're done in a couple of hours. So it seemed today. Sweep. Dust. Vacuum. Scrub. Molly made sure she was somewhere else. This is what you see when you walk up our driveway. Sorry, I don't remember the names of anything that's not a rose, daisy, spider plant, California poppy, canna lily, jade, or uhm, I think that's it. Geranium! How I can forget geraniums? We have pink, white, red, bi-color, vine, bush, smelly, and not smelly at all. They live in the front yard, too. They're up towards the house so you can barely see them in the photo. I have a decent success rate of propagating geraniums for someone who goes on intuition and by hit-and-miss. ...

1. Been working in the yard, I have, I have. It's so much fun, especially when the Husband and Molly the (wild) Cat are hanging out there with me, doing whatever they do. (By the way, the Husband took my photo.) 2. "How did you get out there?" asked the Husband when he saw Molly sitting on the front steps through the screen door.  "Did you climb the fence?" 3. Oh, oh. I forgot that Molly came out the front door with me earlier today.  I get easily distracted, which means I need to come up with a system to remind me that Molly is still wandering around the front yard. 4. Thankfully, Missy Girl forgave me. So I think. She laid on my lap for a while. 5. Good medical news #1 that I got on Monday: Doctor Eye has me down in mid-May to remove the cataract in my other eye. Whoooo-hoooo! 6. Good medical news #2 that I got this afternoon: The result of my routine mammogram is normal. Yippieeee! 7. The Husband and I voted yesterday by mail-in ballots.  Yaa...

It certainly has been awhile since I've peeped my sweet peepers out of my not-so-dark hole in the ground. I love the way you say things, Jeana, of The Ched Curtain . You, too, Widders, of Widdershins Worlds . Thank you very much for wondering outloud if I was still kicking.  :-) So, what was I doing while silent crickets and frogs took over the blog? I've thought about things such as why girls couldn't also be made up of "snips of snails and puppy-dog tails", and wondering if anyone has coined future fossil fuels yet. I've raked at least two years worth of dried leaves from beneath the flowers and plants in the front yard.  Not to say, learning yet again that I, no, we need to rake leaves right after they've fallen.  Also prune brittle and drying branches. Deadhead the flowers, too. And, pick up the fallen fruit sooner rather than later. It certainly has been a long time since I've strung sentences together for fun. I am simply dancing with...