Oh me, oh my. The sights Molly the Cat and I saw this morning in the front yard. For one, that fly pollinating the daisies. Until a few years ago, I had no idea flies were pollinators, too. Flower flies are what they're called in general. Some of them have torsos that resemble bees or wasps. I wonder how many times we've said, "Look a bee!" and it was really a flower fly. Experts say that flower flies don't sting. Hurrah! These flies also love to eat aphids and scales. Thank you, much. POMPOM POPPY DANCER Most of the pink pompom poppies have shedded their petals. I think the pods are also cool to look at and go wowza! over. While the blooms make me think of the fluffy hats that comedian Phyllis Diller wore, the poppy pods remind me of ancient Greek soldiers in their Corinthian helmets. WILD CELERY STALK I was hoping that the unknown thing growing at the edge of the geranium spread would be bamboo. Nope. The nearly 4-foot plant is a wild celery p

It's beginning to get jungly in the back yard. The persimmon trees are popping out leaves, as are the apricot and apple trees.  You can't see the banana plants, but they're also shooting up leaves. When all the trees are full, this part of the yard gets quite shady. Perfect to hang out in when the temperatures soar high. I ought to call this part of the yard the "jungle room" or maybe Room of Deep Shade. What do you think?

Last Sunday I shared with you the chair I painted that morning. There's the final product in the meadow. You may not see it at first. That's Okay. That's my intent. I don't want the chair to be obvious. I want it to suddenly be a delight in your sight. By the way, Molly the Cat hasn't noticed it yet. I wonder what she'll do when she does. I ended up painting details onto the chair's frame.  A hodgepodge of things to practice painting impressions of flowery vines, cat paws, flowers, and butterflies. Here's the back of the chair. For the front of the chair, I decided to paint one subject rather than several. What do you think? I love the way the chair looks in the meadow. The chair is too flimsy for anyone to sit on, except for Molly the Cat, so I asked the Husband to place it in a hard-to-get place. For humans, that is. While the Husband and I stood on the sidewalk admiring the chair in the meadow, I thought the yard looks just how I

Seriously, I did not see these flowers yesterday nor the day before, and I was working in the section where they are. So, yeah, I was shocked to see them this morning. "Hello! How are ya?" the gorgeous flowers said. I forgot what the plant is. My friend Google says it's a rockrose plant. Whooo-hoo! It doesn't look at all like the rockrose plant next to the mailbox, which is getting bigger but yet has to bloom. Another surprise to come in the yard.  This plant that bloomed this morning came home with us last year around this time. It worried me throughout last year. It kept looking like it was about to give up living. My friend Google pointed me to a website of rockrose experts where I learned that the rockrose plant blooms for a month in late spring/early summer and the blooms last for only a day. It's a perfect drought resistant plant and can thrive on neglect. Good to know!

Pop. Pop. Pop. The California poppies started showing themselves in the front yard about a couple of weeks ago. Every morning, a few more orange lovelies wave hello to the world. Totally grand. There are so many poppy plants in the meadow part of the yard that some are actually dying.  It doesn't help that fox tails, some kind of vetch vine, clover, and leftover overgrown lawn are also competing for soil, light, and water. Survival of the fittest. The daisy bushes have increased in size, more than I thought they could and would. They've infiltrated into the territories of the roses. Poor roses. Later this year I must decide whether to cut back the daisies or transplant the roses to their own dedicated section in the yard. Maybe next to the fence where I've sown sunflower and more wildflower seeds, which may not grow because the poppies are spreading out there, too.  We shall see. If you'd like to see the progression of the yard, click here .  I

  This was in 1996 (or 1997) in our backyard at our first home together. We had an awesome view of San Francisco Bay and, behind the Husband and all that greenery, of San Francisco. It had been about 20 years since either of us lived in a house. What a luxury that was. No flights of stairs to carry groceries, packages, or laundry. Open the front door and sit on an actual porch. Until sound walls were built by the freeway a few miles below us, we heard no traffic. And, we had a huge backyard with nothing in it so we could transform it into anything we wanted. Yes, definitely a wonderful first home for us to get used to each other. Doesn't the Husband look cute? In college, he was given the nickname "Farmer Dick" by his friends. Not because he was a farmer, but because he wore overalls a lot.  (That's another thing the Husband and I had in common when we were young.)  He makes a handsome farmer, the Husband does, so I say. I'm linking up with All Season

I'm tired. Satisfyingly, though. My left knee is growing stiffer by the second, as are my shoulders and hands. I'm fine with that. I accomplished my goal today before it started raining. For about four hours I've been digging holes by the back fence for roses which I transplanted from pots  (the orange roses, for instance) and from the middle of the banana plants. I've always wondered what the Mama had planted first, the banana plants or the roses. All the transplanted roses began as cuttings that the Mama stuck in the dirt. Whenever she trimmed her roses, she'd propagate a few branches, so who knows what generation the roses are that I stuck into the ground today. If you're interested, here's an old post about the Mama's roses. I also have a bucket of rose cuttings, which, if my body doesn't protest and it's not raining too awfully much, I'll put them into the ground tomorrow. Rose cuttings don't grow for me in pots. Mostly because

Despite the cold temperatures and lack of rain, the first of the wildflower blooms have appeared in the front yard. This morning, Molly the Cat and I saw a cosmos (upper left corner), lupine (upper right corner), and California poppy (lower right corner). They're all volunteers from last year's plantings. Also presenting itself is the first freesia (lower left corner) of the season. Not sure, but I think they're from bulbs that got planted last fall. These flowers have a light fragrance. Mmmmmmmm.

The other day I came across these photos of the Mama's front yard in 2010. Neat and proper, how the Mama loved her gardens and landscaping to be. A philosophy that differs from mine, which is essentially a higgledy-piggledy one, although you might say that there is order in chaos. It has been almost two years since I've taken over the Mama's gardens and landscaping. Flowers have gotten out of hand. The canna lilies, for example, were winning in their plot to take over the front garden so I dug out most of the bulbs and transplanted many elsewhere last month. The Mama's rosemary bushes, on the other hand, are getting straggly in a way that I wonder if they may be on their last legs. The Mama's roses got rather tall. Some nearly reached the roof. She deadheaded them, but after someone mentioned how tall the roses were, she was no longer interested in cutting them back. So I thought. Now I wonder if was because it was too difficult for her to prune them and s

What do you think that edited photo is? Did you guess young apricot tree stumps and roots? I didn't think so. Here's the original shot. I was hacking away at the stumps this afternoon. It was either now or never, getting rid of these apricot trees that were grown from seeds that the Mama planted maybe seven or eight years ago. The trees are too close to the fence, and if all five apricot trees reached full growth, well that's a lot of shade back there. Nothing else would be able to grow. Not to say the neighbors would gripe about the mess of fruit falling over the fence. (I am leaving one tree intact.) I thought I could dig the tree stumps out. Ha! As I sawed the trunks as close to the ground as possible, I started seeing possibilities of garden art out of these things. So, we shall see.

May 2016 It's been awhile since I've updated the progress of the front yard, which some of you know was a once-upon-a-time lawn. The Husband and I didn't like the lawn because of the upkeep (on his part) and its need for too much water, especially during droughts. But, because the Mama liked having a well-manicured lawn, well, there you have it. When the Mama soared into the universe, thus began the undoing of the lawn. September 2016 January 2017 July 2017 Today, January 30, 2018 Hopefully, come late Spring, sunflowers will be growing in that empty patch on the left, as well as here and there in the foreground. Can't get enough sunflowers. I'll also be sowing wildflowers in that empty patch to see if it was simply a fluke that they didn't so well last year. Last fall, I transplanted some canna lilies nearby. If they like the area, they'll take over like a wildfire, which is okay with me. Onward and upward. I'm hooking up

Let's see: A view from up high. I don't know why it took me so long to get a bird's eye view of the front yard. As you can see, all those pretty daisies I showed you the other day only fills up half the yard. Gardening in the rain. Last year I watched a video of a professional gardener saying rain doesn't stop her from working and rain doesn't bother the plants that she's putting into the ground at the moment. I immediately felt bad that I got on the Mama's case for not coming in from the garden when it rained. Her spirit probably smiled when she saw me ignoring the few raindrops as I pruned roses on Monday and pulled up weeds this morning.

This morning as the Husband and I walked home, I got to see what others may see as they come to our yard. Ooooh, right? Last year those bushes of pink daisies were a third to a half in size of what they are now. Until last month,  the bush on the right and the one beside the green pot (which is an olive tree) had no flowers at all. Amazing, huh? The white alyssum flowers in the foreground are all volunteers. I love volunteers. Next month, we ought to be seeing other volunteers blooming in the yard. Much of that green stuff you see are California poppy sprouts. Imagine them all in bloom. All that orange. Wowza! I'm linking up with Our World Tuesday . Click here to check out the meme. Thank you, Our World Tuesday team.

Ding-dong! This morning Molly the Cat and I were traipsing about in the backyard when the doorbell rang. Molly inspected the perimeter of the yard, making sure all was well, while I checked how much the garlic had grown in its pot. I'd spied a bit of green yesterday morning just before I stepped inside, thinking I'd look for sure when I went back outside. But I didn't go back outdoors. I let melancholy rob the rest of my day. This morning I woke up still not wanting to make an effort. What good is that? I told myself. There are roses that need pruning. I visualized myself getting the pruning shears and small saw out from the shed, as well as the rubbing alcohol or hydrogen peroxide from the bathroom to sterilize the equipment. Okay, up and at 'em. Downstairs, opening the drapes, I noticed the layer of ice on the rooftop next door.  That settled that. I fed Molly her breakfast and made coleslaw. I've found that preparing part or all of our afternoon/ evening meals

"I beg on ya to make sure I have a nice protected spot come summer," said the begonia, which has been doing quite well on its own. Just when I think this begonia's no more, it shows itself to be a survivor out in the elements. Maybe it would like hanging out on the north side of the yard. We shall see.

Now I understand the Mama's impatience about planting her vegetable garden. During her last several years, she was sowing seeds into the ground earlier each year. April, March, even February. Some years, the Husband and I didn't even get the chance to turn over the ground and work in compost and bags of top soil, which meant she got less yield. On one hand that was okay because how much bittermelon can I eat, as no one else would. On the other hand, we had less squash, tomatoes, beans, and her Filipino vegetables to eat, requiring us to head over to the Marina farmer's market every so Sunday. Except for the traffic that was a fun outing for the three of us. Supposedly I must wait until after the last frost to sow the flower seeds I gathered last year, along with that big packet of wildflower seeds I bought last Spring. Part of me says to put some in the ground now so that they can benefit from the rain the Farmer's Almanac says we'll be getting this month.

It's winter but the ornamental pear tree on the front yard doesn't think so. For the past few weeks, it has been slowly shedding its colorful autumn leaves. I love the warm yellow and red colors on the ground. I've already raked twice. Maybe I'll rake once more just so they won't be flying over to the neighbors' yards or into the gutter and clog up the storm drain. Not thoroughly though. I think the leaves make a warm cover for the bulbs, tubers, and seeds that are in the soil beneath them. Not to say, the dried leaves will turn into lovely mulch and soil come Spring.

By now, if our climate was the way it once was, the bougainvillea near the front window would have died back from the frost. Instead, one of its vines taps at the window, calling to us inside, "Hiya! What ya doing? A gorgeous day, don't ya think?" I suppose if the frost doesn't get the bougainvillea this year, I'll have to prune the vine away from the window.  The castle look in the Sleeping Beauty story really is not a good idea to attempt.                     

Quite a mouthful to say. What if you imagine yourself to be in Italia, near the Prealps, hours north of Venezia (Venice)? Suppose you pronounce it with a flourish, as if you're singing . . . tra(y)-des-can-ti-a flu min-en-sis. Be still my heart. Tradescantia fluminensis is the formal name for the green wandering jew plant. Maybe you grew it as an indoor houseplant when you were a young That Girl/Mary Richards thing like me in the 1970s. It turns out the vines by the back fence that grow back with a vengeance, no matter how much I believe I've removed them, are of the species tradescantia fluminensis , hot-cha-cha. I found out last night when I posted this photo on my Facebook wall (my "back fence"). Thanks to Mike for pointing me in the right direction. This plant grows quickly and spreads happily, especially in its role as ground cover. Some places consider it a pest because it can be quite invasive if its owners are not giving it attention. Imagine th