My favorite store: the quarry

Best shop in town! I drive onto the scale with my car on the way in and wait for the guy to give me the thumbs up. I prowl the premises, load up with about 30 large rocks, drive back onto the scale and get a second thumbs up from the guy.

Total price: less than a brownie and frappucino. Rewards: creating a new raised bed! I honestly can't think of another store that I walk out of, receipt in hand, feeling so giddy from!

Landscape Design: I'm still "keeping it subjective"

I wrote this post a while back about the virtues of keeping garden design subjective. If you missed it, hopefully you'll go back to it and agree that it can be unfair to be too judgemental about a garden when as visitors, we don't always know the full story.


A couple of coincidental things have happened since that post - the photo above is my favorite fall beauty of 2009. And just after I found my love for this ornamental kale, and fall planters using them, I read something in a magazine describing my new fave as "common" (the biggest insult in my lexicon) and sarcastically poking fun at people who own them. Soon thereafter, I wrote this post about how I found a garden just like my new, brilliantly designed garden in the pages of a magazine!! Only...it was the "before" photo in a garden makeover.


I do generally consider myself a person of good taste. I can flip thorough a magazine or book and after a cursory look, instinctively tell you what's beautiful and what's more...common. I can definitely tell you what does NOT look so great - and on a good day, can point out ways to improve the design.


Here's the problem: in my garden, I'm a little more confused - maybe because it's so much more personal. I'm a little less confident. I hesitate. I'm proud of what I've done one moment, and embarrassed the next. Sometimes when I'm working in the perennial garden and a neighbor walks by, I think they're thinking, "Tsk, tsk, tsk, that woman sure is working hard on that f-ugly looking garden". But then I try to be more positive about it. The truth is, I am only a landscape architect in my dreams. I have a day job and I'm good at it. It took me a long time to learn it. Similarly, even in my dreams, I've been a landscape architect for only about 4 years. It takes time to learn how to work with plants, to design something that works at a real house with its real obstacles. There is simply no way around it. I will have to gain experience, and that just comes with time.


Last night, Joel Lerner, a specialist in landscape and environmental design came to speak at my Master Gardener class. I loved learning about some of the most important design principles such as balance, contrast, sequence, repetition, and proportion. I enjoyed viewing his "drive by" photos and critiquing them - I'm happy to know that my idea of good design matches the fundamental principles of good design. I'm happy to know that the improvements I would suggest are the improvements our expert would suggest. I loved that the successful expert was open-minded enough to invite critiques of his own work in order to encourage us to think about what has been done. What I loved most, was Joel Lerner's message about design that he repeated several times throughout his lecture:


Landscape design is an ongoing process...


As he put it, you'll try something seven or eight times, and then say A-ha! That's it!


What I don't quite understand, is how some people I've encountered in life and on the web can be so critical of the designs of other people, such that they'll laugh, make fun of, or shake their heads. Perhaps I'm being too Pollyanna, but as I heard from an expert, landscape design IS an ongoing process. I'm typically not lucky enough to get things done perfectly on the first try. Even if I did, I sure as hell hope I wouldn't be too judgmental towards people who don't. If I ever look at some one's garden design and laugh out loud, or shake my head, may Mother Nature herself strike my perfectly placed plants down.

A garden just like mine was in a magazine!

I was taking a cursory flip through the new issue of Garden Gate that arrived today when I saw a garden that looked exactly like the perennial garden I've been working on! I was amazed to find that this garden had the same shape and layout as the one I've drawn out from my own imagination and begun to plant!

As I settled in to more closely read the article - looking for all kinds of confirmation that I'm awesome and that being a landscape architect is my destiny, I realized something that will prevent my dreams from ever coming into fruition. My brilliant garden, shown in the magazine, was the before photo. Following, was a five-page spread titled, "Too Much Going On", describing the ways that my garden probably could and should be improved.

But not to worry, the article warns me. Per the article, I do not need to rip everything out and start over (a good thing, because I just purchased and tucked in LOTS of new plants). I should follow these tips:

• Pick a core group of five or six plants and stick with it.
• Repeat colors and textures to make the garden feel unified.
• Plant in groups of three to five plants to avoid ending up with dots of color here and there.
• Expand the garden to accommodate two plants side by side instead of a row of single plants (is my husband reading this?)
• Consider using something like an urn or vertical element to mark the transition from the driveway.

I enjoy the segment "From the Drawing Board" in the magazine because several different variations on the main theme are shown. After reading the article a little more closely, it seems that I am not completely off base. Perhaps I have a little "too much going on", but I have tried to stick to a color scheme, and generally planted in groups of 3. I have also decided to add some vertical elements to this new garden. Not sure if my garden will ever end up in the after photo, but I guess I can start dreaming about being a landscape architect again.

I need to remove 500 square feet of lawn

Since I missed out on my city's rain barrel rebate because I installed mine BEFORE the rebate was instituted, I've had my bargain-hunting, won't-let-a-good-deal-pass-me-by-again eye on any new programs my city might offer.

Yesterday, I found that to support our city's push for residents to move towards conservation landscaping, a 50% rebate on materials and plants is being offered, up to a total of $500! I believe what this means is that if I spend $1000 to simply remove lawn and install native plants, I can get $500 back! I've got to calm down though. Keep my cool. Play by the rules. There are applications to fill out. Approvals to attain. Plans to draft. Plants to consider. A seminar to attend. And the bigger obstacle - my husband to persuade.

My husband loves me. He really does. He has faith and confidence in me. He has gone along with every plan I have made without ever a fuss. I just tell him how many bags of mulch to buy and where to go, and he's off. He loves his lawn, and yet I've encroached more and more upon this lawn every season.

Coincidentally, I have been planning a little garden expansion - about 200 feet's worth. I JUST need to scratch out another 300 feet to earn my rebate. When I excitedly told hubby about this today, he flat out said "No" - and he never says no. Now mind you, I was not asking permission, as I'm a grown woman. However, I want him to be OK with this. Can you help me convince him that this is an important project that we MUST take part in? We just MUST find our 500 feet of lawn to remove!

EDITED TO ADD: OK, so I'm off of this idea now. Please feel free to comment anyway, I'm sure I'll use your ideas later on, but I've decided that I need to be my own free agent on this one. I looked over the rebate info again and I CAN'T play by the rules after all- an application? A written plan that someone ELSE has to approve? Then I need to sit around and wait for someone to come and inspect my yard? Requiring that 3/4 of the plants must be from a list? Never mind all that noise. I can be a landscape conserver and do it on my own terms without the rebate and kudos, but for the sheer benefit of acting responsibly. I'll stick to my 200 feet for now, slowly encroach on the lawn 50 feet at a time so hubby doesn't really notice, and plant whatever I like, whereever I like, whenever I like.

Oh shit. What have I done now.

I'm sorry if the title of this post alarmed you. I guess you were either sympathizing with me or eager to see a photograph of some horrible garden error I have made. I won't ask which.

Here's how my garden inspiration generally plays out. I'm minding my own business, strolling through life, admiring a container planting here and there. Suddenly, an idea bowls me over. I practically burst with excitement telling my friends and family (who are familiar with my ways and humor my sudden intense obsessions with certain ideas), "Oh my god. I'm so excited about this, and I really shouldn't be telling you about it because it's a little silly and ambitious and it probably won't work out, and I know I'll jinx myself but the plan is..." and so forth.

I spend the next 2-5 days in feverish study over the idea, conducting Internet research, drafting plans, taking measurements, making lists of things my husband needs to pick up at Good Earth THIS weekend (anonymous commenter, please remind me to tell my husband how awesome he is).

I break ground.

Inevitably, "Oh shit. What have I done now."

During the landscaping project, the period of "oh shit" was probably the most concerning, as the project lasted several months and I have been known to become quickly obsessed with an idea and lose interest just as quickly.

Fortunately, early on, my friend Grace took a quick look and without a moment's hesitation, leaned in, put her hand on my arm and said, "Well, you got to break a few eggs if you want to bake a cake".

Fast forward a couple years later, this is what I'm thinking each day I arrive home from work to the beautiful edge I've cut in of a large new garden expansion that's going to be prepared this fall, bags of mulch and compost sitting on my lawn for weeks, and plants arriving via UPS daily all mulched up with no place yet to go.

I've seen enough garden projects from start to finish now to know that it always starts off messy. I don't think I'll ever avoid the "oh shit" feeling. However, these days, the in-garden panic attacks are few.

I read something today I'm particularly fond of that I find related to my "oh shit" feelings and other aspects of my life as well. I wonder what it might mean for you...

If I were to wish for anything, I should not wish for wealth and power, but for the passionate sense of potential, for the eye which, ever young and ardent, sees the possible.

~Soren Kierkegaard

Keeping it subjective

I'm not sure it's really possible to look at a garden objectively. When I read about gardens and gardening, I'm always irked when I sense that someone passes judgement in a negative kind of way. Luckily, I have not found much of this, because in all the different arenas that elitists can be found in the world, being a gardening elitist is almost an oxymoron to me. I do believe everyone is entitled to his or her own personal opinion. In fact, in the blogging world, that's exactly what most of us are doing - expressing personal opinions. However, upon evaluating other gardeners' gardens, I personally will strive to live by the motto - to each his/her own. Some illustrations...

You will never find dirt under my fingernails. Dirt under the fingernails seems to be somewhat of a gardening cliche. I read something somewhere recently that implies that one is not a "true" gardener unless one has dirt under one's fingernails. Though I come in from gardening with my clothes and hair covered in dirt, grass, bugs, etc., you'll never find dirt under my nails. Why? I just don't like it. I own about 10 pairs of gardening gloves and wear a fresh clean pair every time I walk out the back door. I hope my hours in the garden, and not the dirt, would qualify me as a "true" gardener nonetheless.

My neighbor has Mickey Mouse statues in her garden bed. The statues of the original Disney characters are about 10 inches high and are dressed for Christmas, with Mickey as Santa. I don't understand this. I don't like it. I would never have it in front of my house. I chuckle in my head every time I walk by. However, I try not to scoff. I try not to shake my head. Surely there must be some reason? Maybe they were a gift from someone special? Maybe they sit on cement bases that are buried in the ground? Maybe someone died this year and they've not gotten around to putting them away? Maybe they just like them? I really don't know, but I do know this - Merry Christmas, and more power to them.

I almost got the silliest tattoo. When I was 16, I was certain the coolest tattoo would have been a skull with rainbow eyes. It had a symbolic meaning for me. It was an amazing concept. I would have worn that tattoo with pride. For about 2 years. Until I realized it was pretty silly. Surely tastes change over time. Surely what I think is really cool this year and took pictures of, and maybe even posted on this blog, I will look back a few years from now and think - oh how embarrassing that I would think this was attractive. Hopefully my artistic eye and gardening skills will improve over time as well. Garden elitists - surely you started somewhere too? Surely you were inexperienced and naive about what looked good at some point in your life? Surely as dynamic individuals, your tastes have evolved over time?

I live in a split level house in the suburbs of Maryland. The walkway to my house from our little driveway is a typical curve, and I have shade on the left side of my house. My husband grew up in Florida with a dirt/sand front yard and he loves our grass lawn. All these factors play a big part in how my garden will look. I basically have a little patch of land in the suburbs. As much as I would like to subscribe to the anti-perimeter planting school, I don't have a lot to work with. I don't have tons of money to put into landscaping (not more than I've already invested in my backyard slope project). Aside from some colorful Target pillows and chair pads, I don't have great backyard furniture. Regardless of the garden that is put in, it will always exist next to a beige siding split-level house in the suburbs. I can, and will, make it a lifelong goal to improve the way my garden looks, but it will never be a charming clapboard cottage. It will never be a stately brick colonial. It will never be a modernist bungalow.

I plan to grow hyssop. I don't know what this is. I do know that one day, I plan to have a special herb garden dedicated to my mother in law who passed away several years ago. There were certain herbs she always talked about such as hyssop and echinacea. Hopefully hyssop will not be an ugly plant. If it is, hopefully no one will stop by and judge the ugly hyssop, or the common echinacea, because there will be deep meaning behind their existence. When I find a garden with plants I don't love, I need to remind myself that I'm really not sure why a certain plant has found it's way into that garden.

Similarly, my mom used to wear Tea Rose perfume. She used to wear it when I was little - about 10 years old or so. Personally, I feel the rose is fairly common. To me, common usually means boring, though I've come to like the rose more and more each year. However, I do have one tea rose and when I catch that fragrance each summer, I am instantly transported to a different place and time. Of course I feel young, but I also feel protected, innocent, and just totally carefree - like I don't have to make dinner, or pay bills, or make doctor's appointments, or go to work. Like I can just play tag outside with my sister, or wait for my mom to tell us what the plan for the day is. This is why a tea rose will always have a sunny spot in my garden.

In China there are certain flowers all great gardens have. My father is obsessed with his large-flowering chrysanthemums. In a month or so, he will have about 40 or 50 potted plants all lined up on his patio. I thought he was just being nutty and going overboard like he does with most things, until I bothered to ask him why the hell he was growing so many. I also suggested he grow dahlias, which are also very pretty but bloom all summer. He told me that in China the traditional gardens of royalty all included large-flowering chrysanthemums. This is when I looked around and viewed his large pond filled with waterlilies, edged with weeping willows, framed by peonies, and realized oh my god. He is trying to create the China he left when he was a boy. While I thought he was just being dismissive when he shot down my dahlia idea, turns out there is a cultural and extremely endearing reason for the composition of his garden.

I do have personal opinions. I do think certain things are tacky. I do enjoy certain gardens I see more than others. I hope to refine my taste. I hope to gain knowledge over the years and become very successful at what I enjoy doing. And when I'm an expert in my area of interest, when my garden is totally kick-ass and looks straight from the pages of a magazine, when I'm asked to do shows and write feature articles about garden trends or garden classics, I hope to remember some of the factors that I've mentioned above and realize that a lot about gardening is subjective. We all love gardening for a reason, maybe many reasons. We all love certain plants, colors, combinations, fragrances, styles for a reason.

Thoughts?

The biggest landscaping project of my life! (photos)

This is the horrible slope. This slope takes up about 1/3 of my already small backyard and adds nothing to the aesthetic of it. I have a big bow window in my living room that faces out back, but the view it frames is this slope which is usually covered in weeds of all sorts and often up to several feet high. After removing most of the weeds, we found there were also small trees, lots of weedy roots, some trash, and many broken vodka and gin bottles - seems our slope has had quite a past!

Plan A was to hire someone to build a retaining wall. The estimate for this simple, straight, 2 foot high wall was over $5000. Time to move to plan B. I would build a retaining wall my damn self. You can see where we cut about 2 feet into the slope where I was going to build the wall. Then I realized that if I was going to do this project myself, I did not need to limit myself to a silly low wall, that would ultimately, not add too much to the aesthetic of the yard anyhow. In the picture above, you can see the blue paint I used to mark how I envisioned my project. I wanted to be able to walk up steps on one side, walk across the slope, sit on a circular patio in the middle, and walk down steps on the other side. I also wanted to be able to build a garden on the slope. The picture below shows what the slope looked like after we (paid someone to) dug into the slope. I asked him to dig a trench in front of where the wall would go to fill with gravel to aid with drainage. *** If you're thinking of doing this kind of project, please do your research. I spent weeks obsessing over this wall, changing my design, learning different ways to create drainage, prevent erosion, etc. I watched many videos on the internet and spent hours in the bookstore. If the wall is going to be large or high, it's particularly important to do some research. You may need to check into local regulations - I know some areas require permits for building walls over a certain height. The digging of this slope was a really horrendous job and it took 4 men all day to do it. With all that clay you see, it was really worth hiring someone. Plus, as you'll soon see, there was no shortage of work for us to do.

After the shape was dug in, I did comment, "Well, there's no turning back now", but was pretty excited because I could really envision the end product now. It was also very cool to be able to walk on the slope. After the 5 pallets of stone were delivered, I started to feel a little panicky inside but simply said aloud, "Well, now there's really no turning back". There's a lot of stone that is easier to stack than the stone I purchased. However, this stone was reasonably priced and had a natural color I liked. I'm not going to lie. It's not easy to build with. I was shocked when we unpacked the stone and saw that many pieces were shaped like pyramids. How do you build with that! It was certainly NOT like stacking legos as I had thought it would be.

My dear husband, who probably hoped I would not really pursue this landscaping idea, or perhaps was not listening when I explained, didn't know he'd be spending every weekend for several weeks moving stone to the backyard one wheelbarrow at a time (we went through 2 wheelbarrows during the length of this project -tip: invest in a good one, cheap ones will just break). To his dismay, after we moved the stone and our driveway was finally empty, I called in an order of 8 tons of gravel. As you can see, this needed to be moved from shovel to wheelbarrow, and rolled to the backyard. These were very tiring days. "Code orange" (Motrin?) days.

Actually, while he was moving this stuff every weekend, I was busy in the back working on the wall. Below you see landscaping fabric, added as a barrier to keep the dirt in place and not sifting through to the gravel. The fabric was pinned in place. You can see some mounds I've dumped a bucket at a time to fill the 8 inch trench. Notice there's still a little bit of grass in our yard!

After the trench was filled, the fun began. You quickly learn how to stack the stone. Since it was irregularly shaped, you backfill with gravel to create as level a surface as possible for stacking the next row. You also notice that each stone has a good face and some ugly ones. Obviously you want to show the good face. You want your first layer to be made up of the larger, most stable stones. You also stack it like a bricklayer would. Two stones on one and so forth. You have to mix it up too - don't put all the small ones in one area and the large ones in one area. Also, I tried to put the nicer looking stones up front and center where people would most likely set their eyes. Finally, stop, stand back, and check regularly to see how things are going. You do want this wall to be attractive as well. Since this wall is a dry laid wall - there is no cement involved. I made sure each row was set back just a bit so that weather, gravity, pressure from what's behind the wall, etc. would not push it forward over the years. Do your research and find the exact angle. I didn't measure but did take the time to eyeball it from each side often to make sure it looked good and had the right pitch. You can see what I mean if you look at the wall on the very left side of this picture below. Notice each level sets back just a bit. Also, the wall is built up, and you need to backfill that big area behind it with gravel. See that blue bin? That's my trusty blue bin. I would stack some stone, go fill my blue bin with gravel, walk it over, dump it out, walk back, fill the bin, walk it over, dump it out, etc. I had Popeye arms by the end of the summer!

In the picture below, you can see that I've started working on the steps. I couldn't find any instructions for building this exactly like I wanted, but I had seen some natural looking steps in different gardens and took some pictures. Then it was just a matter of dreaming it up at night, daydreaming about it during the day, and experimenting in real life. I built, dismantled, built, dismantled, and finally built these steps properly. The trick was to make each step level, able to bear weight, and blend it in with the wall surrounding it. This was the hardest part of the job. I am most proud of these steps and the "stairwell" around it. After I built the steps, I decided that I wasn't going to push my luck by building the steps I planned on the other side of the slope. One set of steps was enough! At this stage, our family also decided to make a time capsule to bury behind the wall. :)

Notice the backyard is a total construction pit. There is no grass in our yard at this point. There were days I was very alarmed looking at the materials, tarps, dirt, and the amount of work ahead of me, but I just had to not think about it and get back to work. And just when my husband thought his part was done moving materials from the driveway to the backyard, I called in the order for compost. Instead of gravel, when I got near the top third or so of the wall, I added a layer of landscaping fabric and used compost so I could plant a garden on the slope in the future.

When backfilling with the compost, it's important to really tamp it down behind the wall. Below is the end product of all this work. The walls are done, the slope is planted with mostly shade plants, and most of the area is mulched. I may move the fire pit to this area where I envision fall nights toasting marshmallows on the slope. The most amazing thing is that the slope has completely changed the look of my backyard. When it once looked boxy and small, it now has a much more interesting shape and actually looks bigger even though the wall takes up more space in the yard. The shade plants are beautiful and the ferns, hosta, hydrangeas, azaleas, and all the spring bulbs look a hell of a lot better than the poison ivy and bullweed looked. Finally, because of the ability to actually walk on the slope, the usable space in my yard has increased. In lieu of the steps on the left of the slope, I decided to use the area as a children's area. I added some large steps that a child could jump, and set in all the mosaic stepping stones my kids have made. I had planned to create a fairy garden in this area, but lost steam on that idea. I'm not sure you can see from the pic, but the patio is indeed circular shaped. The bottom rounds out and the top all rounds in. This is the slope 2 years later...

This is the view from the entry into the backyard.

This is how I looked at the end of each day. What you can't see is that I'm so sweaty my clothes are soaked. I remember my face was literally dripping. You also can't see the scratches on my arms, my smashed purple thumb, and the bruises on my legs. The project was very fun and incredibly rewarding, but there were a few touch and go days. Some days were so hot I literally felt myself starting to black out and would need to stand still and close my eyes to keep from fainting. I got one of those neck tie things filled with gel that you soak in water to keep you cool - that REALLY helps. A bandana tied around my wrist as a sweat wiper also really helped. In total, I worked an average of about 6 days a week (I don't work over the summer), and most days from about 12pm-3pm while my baby was sleeping, and then again from about 6pm to 10pm (notice it's dark outside in the picture!). My husband spent about 1 long day a week moving the materials from the driveway to the back. I'm not sure I would have been able to do this project if I had to do this part too. It's a tedious, laborious job, and even though I had no shortage of moving, the building of the wall, and backfilling was more satisfying and being able to see progress fueled my days. I did help with moving the materials and I'll tell ya, you do hours of work and your 8 ton pile of gravel does not seem to go down! The project took about 3 months total from start to finish. One last thing to keep in mind is that I'm not a power lifter, not a landscape architect (except in my dreams), not a stone mason, and not particularly creative either. I am just ambitious and determined. If this sounds like you, dream it up and do it!

In my dreams, I am a landscape architect...

By day, I help a team of people involved with students on my caseload solve all kinds of problems. What colleges might be appropriate for my daughter? How can I get my son to care about chemistry? This student has been skipping my English class. Can you give me some community resources to help support this student?

But by night, in my dreams, I help people solve problems of another sort. My yard is shady, what plants would work? My house sits on the edge of a hill, what kind of landscaping is possible? I want to build a naturalistic water feature, can you help? In my dreams, on my head is a khaki canvas hat and I often wear the "Plant Whisperer" shirt my sister bought me for my birthday. It usually gets a laugh from my clients. In my dreams, I know the answers to my clients' problems. I look around and observe the amount of sun at the site. I ask what color combinations he likes. I ask if fragrance is important. I measure the area with my 200 feet measuring tape and take notes. I survey the landscape and consider erosion, seasonal changes, and call my contacts in local conservation offices about the water table or any possible flooding issues. I bring some samples of stone. It takes me about 4 days to excitedly draw up plans I know my clients will be thrilled with. I call in the team to put the plan into action. But I'm not the boss who walks around in heels telling people what to do, oh no. I have my leather work gloves flapping in my back pocket, I got the sunscreen on, and I'm down and dirty with my team. When the job is done, the water feature is amazingly creative - an enigma in that it's peaceful, yet energizing. The hill is breathtaking. My client never thought it would be possible enjoy a garden ON the steep hill! Everyone is happy and the world is that much more beautiful. I'm one good freakin' landscape architect. Geez, I can't believe I actually get paid for this!