Project 14: Pressure Wash the Fence

In the Spring of 2009, we washed and painted half the fencing in our backyard.

This half was not done.

'nuff said.

Delegating still gets the job done!

Here's to help with the Anti-procrastination Project.

Fire Pit

Mr. PHT has been lobbying me for a fire pit for two summers, now. I relented last week. It helped Mr. PHT's cause that there are enormous piles of twigs sitting in our yard--one at the back of the house:



and one at the front.



The fire pit was built in less than two evenings. It's the quickest backyard project we've done yet! We had our first marshmallow roast last night.



I want to plant pretty things in those spaces: not twig heaps! I still don't know what pretty things and I'm not sure what will grow in this shady spot in the front. I plan to spend the cool early morning hours killing weeds and tidying: so I'd better get to it. It is rapidly warming up.

Prelude to the Extra Credit. (or How I Spent my Summer Vacation)

I have been thinking about having a decent vegetable garden for many years. I don't know the first thing about gardening except you have to weed it. For a long time we had a garden in a terrible and shady inherited spot near our garage. We got bitter lettuce and deformed carrots out of it until I decided it wasn't my responsibility and my husband could take care of it. Well, that didn't work out too well and the area became a grassy mound. It's the scruffy bit on the left, at the back.

This picture is from June of 2008. We didn't have a drought last year.

Our back yard faces south--so we have wonderful exposure. I really don't know why someone decided to put it there. I wanted to put the garden closer to the house (and hose) and in a better place for sun. But first, this sidewalk would have to come out.

(Picture taken in April, 2009. Yes, that's snow in the shadows.)

As you can see, no loss really. What you can't see is a) the gate doesn't work very well and my husband has given up on keeping it square year after year. It's an "emergency exit only."

Secondly, there's a great dip where we had our old drain pipe dug up and removed many summers ago. The fellows who did it carted away too much of our soil--we had to ask them to bring some back! They did, but after a few years, when all had settled, we could easily see it wasn't enough. So, there was a dangerous valley in the sidewalk right at the front and I would trip while walking on it. Often. So, I wasn't too interested in keeping this sidewalk: and it was a perfect place for a few raised beds. I decided we'd do three this year--and eventually work up to four.



We got the sidewalk out by mid-May and the forms built, then we promptly ran out of funds. We needed dirt. Lots of dirt and we just couldn't afford it.

We had another problem too.
Remember this?



This was all the stuff left over from last year's landscaping efforts. There's concrete rubble, and cedar bush and tree bits. There's also some really inexpensive brick we bought at a salvage place. We wanted to take it to the dump: (well, except for the brick, of course) but we couldn't figure out how to get it there. We needed a hitch (which we planned to get for the camper trailer anyway) and a cargo trailer which we really didn't want to pay for--even to rent. And my husband really didn't want to pay the dumping fees, either.

And then the Jeep had its accident.


We did come up with a solution for our lack of dirt and too much rubble problem, but not in time to plant anything like a garden.

So, this evening, I ran out to take pictures of where we are, now, and what will be available for planting next spring. We may get one more form built before the snow flies but now need a roof rack (which has been unavailable from Chrysler since July).


(Above: you can easily see where the old sidewalk had been. That's alfalfa growing in the partially assembled form.

Below: the view straight on. The dip was right under the hose reel and you can see where it carries out into the yard.)



I'm not holding my breath. The furnace came on for the first time today.

Reborn

You may remember my accidental drastic pruning of our anemic rose "bush" last year. Just in case you have trouble visualizing a minimalist rose bush: this should help.



All of you who knew about such things reassured me that it would be all right. I'm happy to say: you were absolutely right!

Here it is, as of today:



It needs to be weeded and staked, but I'm afraid to do it.
Unfortunately, the rose has reverted back to its root stock and Dr. Huey is a nasty, horribly thorny breed.


On the bright side, it may be a really good reason to put some trellis in front of that downspout.

And you'll be happy to know I disturbed three bees to get these pictures, Anne.

The Holiday Weekend

This is the first holiday weekend of summer.

Or, rather, it is supposed to be.



When I lived in Ontario, it was known as the "Two-four" weekend.

Why?

Cases of beer come with 24 bottles (or cans) in that province. Get a case and barbecue. Or head to the Beach. Or both. We didn't do any barbecuin' this weekend.



Here, it is known as the "Gardening weekend."
Why?
It happens to correspond with our first frost free date.

Usually.



But there was one small drop of hope.

Progress!

At first, there was the inevitable panic about the colour. It had the unfortunate characteristic of looking just like the original colour already on the fence when wet--but drying much, much darker. As one passerby commented, "You sure can see where you haven't painted."

Indeed.

Except...driving by this morning after taking hubby to work...my heart skipped a beat. There it was....shining golden in the bright morning sunshine.

Nonetheless, I knew there was a difference. There had to be. The children painted the entire street side of the East Side Fence yesterday. They really did a fantastic job and I am quite proud of them.


I wrote this up last night with the intention of taking the "after" picture this morning, in the same light as I'd taken the before, on Sunday.
Can you see a difference?


Monday being the second day of his weekend, my guy set up his brand new saw



and cut all the boards we need for the three 4x4 raised beds. (That's the west side fence above. No, that string isn't holding it up--that's for the raspberry bushes. ) He even put one half of one together for me.



Nice. (The Rose which shall likely be moved is where the red ball is.)

My daughter cheerfully did the part of the fence there behind the Highbush Cranberry. I'm glad someone in this family is so tiny! Her next challenge is to paint in behind the elderberry bush--just to the left outside this shot.



And there I left it for the day. I figure it would have taken me the last 1/2 of the third can of paint and only a couple of hours to finish. But, we stopped.

Why?
1) Nine to four is probably all the child labour laws will let me work my children.

2) I wanted a shower. 'Nuff said.

3) My daughter had a soccer game at 6:15 and a piano class after that. (Have I mentioned she is sitting her Grade One piano exam in a few weeks? All you music types out there can probably better appreciate that than I can)

4) I was dog tired.

Mother's Day. My Way. (or not).

So, a few weeks ago, the hubby asks me, "What do you want for Mother's Day?"

And I said either;
a) Please finish the fireplace mantel. (It is now his project because it involves the manly Art of Cutting Wood. (I hope I said please.)
b) Let's get the fence painted.
c) Build me the raised beds I want for planting this year.
d) All of the Above.

"That's not much," he replied, meaning, "that's nothing very special."
Except that it is.
It is.

I woke up bright and early this morning, excited. Something was going to happen. We were going to get one of the those projects finished.

For the fence, I just needed to pressure wash the street side of the East fence-- Oh and the inside South corner. The boy and hubby had already done 3/4's of the inside East fence--trying out the new pressure washer my Mother had bought for the family for Christmas. The West fence I was going to tackle Another Time.

So bright and early this morning, I snapped the befores.

Steetside East Fence: (Yep. A wonky panoramic).



Inside East Side South Corner, this morning:

(Yep. That pile o'debris from last summer grew under the snow, I swear).


I really thought the kids and I would paint the fence while hubby built three 4x4 raised platforms for vegetable beds. We have heavy, horrible clay soil. With raised beds, I've been told, I can happily ignore it. The instructions were posted here. In February! Gah. Fortunately I had the forethought to save them. Hubby read them over last night. He said, "Looks simple enough." Whew. Unless my man feels totally confident about the way I want a project done, it doesn't happen. So, thank you, Ree!

Those were my plans.
I would paint, he would build.

The boxes, by the way, are going to go here: eventually there will be four in a foursquare parterre-ish pattern. I just have to move the Rose. She won't like that and neither will I.

This picture is from the end of June last year.



This is the picture taken this morning. Yes, we've been sledging again!



But before washing the fence, I realised I should whack down the long grass now growing along the bottom edge (and no where else, of course.) That meant getting the weed whacker going. No problem, except I broke the string in the first two minutes. And then hubby informs me, he needs the instruction manual to rethread it. He looked in his workshop while I looked in my files: it t'were nowhere to be found. Eventually, he announced he had rethreaded it. After I finished that ten minute job, (which took all morning), I had him haul out the pressure washer for me. Man. I do not want to re-live the horror of trying to get those hoses connected and the thing plugged in and the thing moved outside. Then, inside. And upside down. Yep. It happened. Hubby eventually figured out there were screws to hold the handle onto the machine. All he had to do was tighten them!

And here's what I did to the crosspiece bit of fence in my efforts to remove the mold. Or mildew. Could've been mildew. Whatever it was--it's gone now! Gone with the chunks of wood.....



It was three o'clock before we set off to go to Rona's to get the boards for the raised beds and the paint for the fence. And just as hubby was about to back down the driveway, I cried, "Stop!"

"I forgot the paint swatch."

And then, of course, I couldn't find it.

What I did find, (hooray for no Spring Cure this year!) was last year's two cans of paint purchased as "testers." I made good and sure I picked the proper one--I held both up to the bits of the fence I painted last year. I held it up to the bright side and squinted. I held it up to the shady side (much easier to tell, by the way) and I even got my man out of the waiting Jeep to confirm my choice of can--and we headed off.

The trip to Rona took four hours. (Everything takes four hours.) Well, OK, not quite, but long enough that the next priority was plainly stopping at the grocery store to buy a pre-roasted chicken and a tub of potato salad for supper and come home and eat.

And so, the fence now?


Yep. In the evening light.
Except the skies are grey and threaten to rain. So, maybe it's OK.
Except it would have been something special to have had it painted.
It would.

The Remains of Winter.

I had honestly thought it would all be gone by now.

I thought we'd be cleaning out the garage and building frames for raised beds and planning paths and chopping up left over tree trunks by now. You know.

Oh well.



It was minus 30 degrees for at least thirty days in this city this winter.
I guess we got the high efficiency furnace just at the right time!

Tomatoes

Most of these were enjoyed in Aurelia's Birthday dinner salad.


Tomatoes symbolise the purpose of having a food garden. It was The End of Food by Thomas F. Pawlick, I believe, which explained the mystery and annoyance of the ubiquitous cardboard supermarket tomato.

I was never allowed to eat tomatoes in the winter: we couldn't afford them. If my mother did give in to my high pitched pleadings, I was invariably disappointed. They were tough, they tasted awful and the expensive booty was left to rot in the fridge.

In the summer, by contrast, we would slice a tomato each, layer it on two pieces of soft brown bread slathered with mayo, dust them with salt and devour them standing over the kitchen sink letting the juices fall down over our chin and harmlessly into the drain.

When was the last time you had a tomato like that?

Blame it on the Unions. Blame it on migratory workers wanting a living wage, for heaven's sake. Blame it on the big tomato producers who found a way to get rid of unionized decent-wage demanding migrant workers. Blame it on mechanical pickers which can only pick a tomato of a certain size and weight. Blame it on chemicals and transportation. Blame it on the discerning consumer.*

We are now in the odd situation where canned and processed tomatoes are actually healthier than the red, chemically ripened globes in the fresh produce aisle. The latter don't have to be "perfect", you see, so they are allowed to ripen a little longer, get a little bigger before they are picked by a mechanical arm.

So what's a chin slobbering fresh tomato-loving gal to do?

Grow my own.

I did it wrong, though.

What I did right:

I picked a good variety--"Early Girl." As we have a teeny tiny growing season, I wanted something that would actually ripen before September. Since I didn't give it any thought until late May, I bought two already started.

I planted them in "container soil" in a large tub.

I watered them faithfully, even through all the rain we had. One night as we noticed hail about to bounce from the sky, the husband and I picked up the tub and carried it inside the playhouse.

I mulched them with spent coffee grounds. I did this mostly to keep the dog away from them, but it turns out to have been a good thing.

I put a cage on them to support them.

What I did wrong:

I planted them side by side. They need two to three feet between them, or one tub each.

I put the cages on them: upside down.

I didn't fertilize.

I didn't prune.

Outstanding early variety of tomato for short season gardens. Proven, dependable, tasty uniform 4 to 5 ounce tomatoes. Excellent for home gardens (24 seeds approximately). Early Girl is an indeterminate variety (tall growing) so provide some support as plants grow. Approximately 62 days to maturity from transplanting.

From Ed Hume's Seeds

"Indeterminate" varieties need to be staked and pruned. Basically, you find "one main leader," train it up a stake and snap off any "branches" which come out from the leader and head sideways. Trimming them out allows air and light into the plant and prevents all sorts of problems like mildew.

A "determinate" variety, on the other hand, should be let to sprawl on the ground and the suckers allowed to develop.

(And, of course, given my penchant for procrastination, I only found all this out this week.)

My first tomato was nice and large: big enough for a sandwich with some left over. I meant to eat it that way, but somehow it got tossed into a scrumptious salad. I couldn't believe my daughter when she refused it at supper.

"I don't want tomato," she said.
"You've ever had a tomato like this one," I said, "give it a try." (It killed me to say it, actually. I would have been quite happy eating it all myself.)
She protested some more, so finally, I said, "Just take a no-thank you bite. Here."

She actually thanked me later for making her try it. And she requested the same salad for her birthday dinner.

The tomatoes, since, though, have been quite small. Too small for a sandwich. I have hope, yet, though. Along with a bunch of little ones, there's one which looks quite promising still on the vine.


And I'm not going to share it.


*This line always trumpets through my head as I prowl through the produce: "Give me spots on my apples, but leave me the birds and the bees, pleeeeeeease." From Big Yellow Taxi by Joni Mitchell.

The $3.02 Pot of Cheer.

Sometimes it pays to procrastinate! The geraniums (2) were 1/2 off--$1.50 each. They had no blooms whatsoever. I talked to another shopper and asked her if they would be OK.

"Yeah, sure," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"I've never seen a geranium not bloom."

She was right!

They looked kind of lonely when I planted them, so I went back the next day. The "grass" was on sale too but when I got to the till, I couldn't remember the price and the cashier had trouble ringing them up, so she sold them to me for a penny each. I tried to find something that would fill in the front and cascade down the front of the ugly pot (a freebie from my Mom) but, truly, there was nothing left.

Just as well. It acts as a door stop for the back yard screen door.

Giving Up....

It feels like giving up. It probably isn't. But it might be.

What am I giving up?

No, not food, not chocolate, no, nothing really that matters. No, I'm giving up on landscaping and gardening. My enthusiasm is finally waning. I'm not making any progress understanding what it is I'm supposed to be creating, so I'm going to stop trying.

I've been living, breathing, and dreaming about plants and plant care, designing with plants, pruning, soil, native species, ways to plant, styles of gardens, and studying (and trying to apply) each and every design principle so I can create a plan and get planting.

I give up. I can't figure out where to put the paths. I can't figure out where to put the planting areas. I've purchased two bushes--and already thinking that one of them was a mistake.*

I have to grade the front yard to ensure there is a 1" drop every 8 feet--and then plant the two bushes (probably on a great big mound of soil as I suspect we'll need a truckload of dirt). The husband is working on putting up new downspouts (had to be done as one of them ran down the trunk of the tree we axed). I still want to pressure wash the fence and paint it. And we need to mulch all the foliage we've got stacked in the backyard.

But the planning--I've hit a brick wall and it feels like defeat. I still don't know where to put anything--so I probably won't put anything anywhere. I'm very disappointed.


*The Isanti Dogwood. The beast is going to grow 8 to 10 feet around--if I don't whack at it constantly--though only five feet tall.

Another Idea

Notice anything different?

My neighbour had her son "who was in landscaping for six years" trim the tree. I was not at all impressed with his technique, but it's done.

We got to talking, though, and he recommended I build up the soil in order to plant. I fear he may be right. I was trying to figure out how deeply to dig my holes for the two dogwoods I bought today--and realised that we've disturbed the soil so much (especially where we took out the bush) that I have no idea where the "top" should be. He helped me figure that out (use the top of the sidewalk at the bottom of the steps as my guide).

Then a couple of other neighbours ambled down the street and said, in the nicest possible way, "This looks like a big project, what are you doing here?" I told them the truth, "I don't know anymore." We talked a bit and the fellow said he may have a saw the husband can use to take out the stump. I said I would send him down. He is picking up a heavy duty axe on his way home from work this evening thought.

Last night, I analysed my shadow pictures and studied up on asymmetry a bit more and drew the following.



The planting bed (between the house and the path) on the left side right drops down 16' at the sidewalk, and 14' on the right. (Right about where the sunlight is on the grass in the above photo, taken at 5:30 this evening.) From east to west, it extends 18' on the left and 11' on the right. I don't know how much I should raise it--except that dirt is supposed to slope one inch every eight feet down and away from the foundation. So, it should be 5 1/4" inches higher at the house end than the street sidewalk end. I haven't measured, but I bet it isn't.

Figuring out the math to calculate cubit feet of dirt needed is beyond me.

And that last tree has got to go.

Later--
You can call me insane, it's OK. I decided that as my trouble is with envisioning verticals, that I should make a scale 3-D model of the plan above. So, I did. It is very crude.

The first image in the sequences has no fence, the second, a fence along the west side only, and in the third there's a fence along the west side and west side front. It is to scale. The city will allow a fence 3.3 feet high (not including the height of the fence posts) in the front yard.

Looking head on:


Looking west:


Looking east:


Let's design by committee, shall we?

Which do you like best? No fence, one fence, or two fence?

Shadow Play

Remember The Grid?

The consensus seems to be that since I have an asymmetrical house, the grid would not be terribly helpful to me as a tool for designing my front yard. (Though, honestly, it shouldn't matter!)

One fellow at the forum where I've been wringing my hands all too often these days suggested I get a can of biodegradable paint and outline the shadows which play across my lawn. He suggested I do it at 6am and 6 pm.

Well, I didn't get out and get a can of spray paint last night (this one vehicle policy of ours really sucks at times) but I did get up at 8am to take pictures. (Long-time readers of this blog will realise the commitment and dedication this exemplifies).

There wasn't much to see at 8 am.


See? Truly, this was the most interesting picture. Everything, and I mean everything was in shadow.

So, I went back out at 9:30.



At 10:30, I got smart and took shots of the entire front so I could piece them together into a handy-dandy panoramic:



At 11:30, the light hardened.


I took a break for lunch, but went out at 1pm (true noon) to see what, if anything, had changed.


I was truly intrigued by this time. Would much change by 2:00pm?


I didn't get out again until 3:30:


At 4:30:


I was just about to set out again at 5:30, but the husband came home and we had to go run errands. When we got back at 8:00 there were no shadows at all.

Which one (if any!) would you pick for the basis of a design?

Planning with The Grid.

The Grid a tool--and not all tools are the best tool for the job.

Both John Brookes and Rosemary Alexander, and even, in a different way, Gordon Hayward recommend and explain this approach. Alexander recommends you draw up three plans: one based on circles, one on squares (or straight lines) and one using the grid on the diagonal and choose among them.

They promise that this will integrates the house with the land. Sounds like a good idea, right?

It seems simple enough:

1) establish a dimension for the grid square from the features on your house. (Window 8 feet? Make the square 8'x 8'.) One can subdivide it (into, say, 4'x4') or double and even triple it as one gets further away from the house.) It can be established from an "ell." It can be established from the spaces between repeating windows or doors, or the dimensions of a bay window.

2) draw the grid on tracing paper and place it over the scale plan of the area you're working with. Squares are preferred to rectangles. It makes drawing circles easier.

3) develop shapes based on the grid, play around until you've got something interesting, but still simple, and draw them on another piece of tracing paper placed over the previous two--and there you have a layout for your yard.

However, I'm having a hard time making it work.

I don't know if it is because 1) I haven't picked the "right" dimension, 2) I'm not drawing interesting shapes, or 3) whether the "tool" is inappropriate, for me, at this time.

One reason may be that my house has no "ells", no bay windows and is sorely lacking any pleasing repeating elements. The centre of the house is also just at the left side of the front steps. Someone suggested I simply draw a plan using 2' increments and not really worry about the grid at all. When I did, this is what I came up with:



Actually, I drew several unpublishable "plans"--this particular one was taken from a sketch I did weeks ago. The big tree on the right is my neighbour's Birch.

I really haven't a clue what I'm doing.

Garden Tour, Part 2

My camera died at the first garden of the second day.

That put a kibosh on my plans to take pictures...and analyse later. But I did what I could.

I walked slowly and leisurely. I didn't even ask about too many plants.

I breathed and smelled and felt. I chatted with owner/gardeners about, oh, all kinds of things vaguely garden related. I ate rhubarb cake.

I was delighted and enthralled. Charmed and beguiled.

I didn't entirely leave my left brain at home, but almost.

I noted that straight lines leave me cold. In each case where they were used they tended to put the planting "on display." In one case, I felt I had actually walked into a public garden, instead of someone's back yard. Broad sweeping lines are much more inviting--and relaxing.

I noticed that simply planting along the edges, called "perimeter planting" was sometimes the answer to an oddly shaped lot or a particularly shallow one.

Decks with broad steps were inviting--less imposing and integrated to the garden rather than merely being appendages to the house. This one had the patio right in the flower bed. I loved it. I also loved the colours.



Beds need trees or tall shrubs. It gives a feeling of lushness to the landscape. So do tall delphiniums! Some of them were shoulder height. They were amazing. I realised I must have blue oat grass. It's also quite tall and sways beautifully in the breeze.

Mature trees along the back of a property, instead of closing it in, gave the property a sense of being cosy, private and established. In most cases, the folks who were lucky to have these were also tying to block the noise of traffic, though.

I learned not to be afraid to divide the space. It really is more interesting when you have to round a corner or set off to explore where the path leads. It also makes things feel more spacious, oddly enough.



And water--I will have water, if not in this exact way.



These folks create magic. It was an honour and a privilege and a joy.