Normally I leave work and head to Deep Eddy to swim. It's better than two martinis, for flushing away work stress. Today I came home and fed everything. Lisa, a neighbor with a phantasmagoric garden (and apparently the last remaining gardener without a blog) came by walking her dogs and said supportive things about my miserable front bed, which frankly looks like an abandoned drive-in movie theater--all rubble and stems. We agreed this has been a challenging summer. Heat. No rain. Both of these are bad enough but not that unusual. It's the aberrant and apocalyptic wind that has us most unnerved. In combination with the heat and drought, it's impossible to combat. Lisa says she suspects she's lost a lot of bulbs, but she won't know til next year.
It's not all death and dying here. The Port St. John Creeper (podranea ricasoliana) is fixing to explode. I planted it right after I moved in, in Spring 2007, but it declined to bloom during its settling-in year. Another bloomer right now is the Brugmansia Charles Grimaldi, which after the sun goes down, scents the deck with its lemon buttercream icing perfume. In the debris that is the front bed, a white plumbago is valiantly blooming.
So I fed it and the rest of the rubble in front hoping that fall comes soon.
It's not all death and dying here. The Port St. John Creeper (podranea ricasoliana) is fixing to explode. I planted it right after I moved in, in Spring 2007, but it declined to bloom during its settling-in year. Another bloomer right now is the Brugmansia Charles Grimaldi, which after the sun goes down, scents the deck with its lemon buttercream icing perfume. In the debris that is the front bed, a white plumbago is valiantly blooming.
So I fed it and the rest of the rubble in front hoping that fall comes soon.
