Spring has left us no choice.

It’s been raining in sheets for two days. Our little spot of balmy (and I use that term loosely—loosely, like sliding half way down your backside jeans so the world can see you’re a briefs man , loosely) weather is gone. A false spring if you will. It leaves a girl little choice. She can be depressed. Or she can do something about it.

The Boy and I ran errands together yesterday and found ourselves roaming the garden department at a local chain store, where we bumped into this display:

How times have changed. Three years ago he would have launched a hard sell to bring one home. Instead, he shook his head wryly and sighed, “Gnomes? Why would anybody want a gnome?”* We laughed. We agreed that gnomes are funny, but not for our yard.

Instead we trolled (oh bad Wende!) the flower aisles. I love hanging out in the garden department at this time of year… everything is in bloom and it all suggests such potential. The display of star jasmine made me a little wistful for Sunnyside, though. However, row upon row of bright annuals makes it hard to remain gloomy for long. With names impossible to pronounce and colors impossible to resist, we took our time absorbing all the color. A visual tab of vitamin D.

Carefully we tested every color of Ranunculus the flower aisle had to offer, until we found the perfect shade for the ceramic pot we’d selected. Neither of which appear in the photo above because we were too consumed with our choices to think about the camera. “Try this yellow one. No, now try that pink one! How about white?”

Did you know that a Ranunculus is also called a Persian Buttercup? It’s more evocative, I think. At least, when you say, “I brought home a Persian Buttercup” you don’t sound like you have contracted a tropical disease! But we all know that names often belie the beauty of the thing. And a Ranunculus is truly a thing of beauty. Layer upon layer of tissue paper thin petals. . . it’s hard not to fall in love, even harder to make a choice.

Until I can recharge my camera battery, you’re going to have to take my word that we found a bit of Spring to bring home. The pot is this amazing blue, reticulated porcelain cache. And after much searching, we settled on a bright poppy colored bloom that the boy calls, “Lipstick red”. Which made me giggle, for some reason.

It continues to rain in sheets. But we don’t mind so much; we’ve got Ranunculus, after all!

UPDATE: See, Spring.

And apparently, some of you are fond of those little Garden Gnomes. . . who knew? Ok, I kinda guessed. Anyhow, I’m wishing I were more industrious, because if I could get that Gnome picture made into cards, I’d hold a contest to caption it. That Gnome with his hands on his hips just screams to say something witty, eh?

So, no offense to y’all who are lovin on the Gnomes. I’ve heard it said that love is blind. Evidently, it is.

The sound of chainsaws woke me after a particularly difficult night of sleep. If you can call it sleep. It wasn’t early, but I was trying to catch up on what I’d lost during the night. I have plans that involve Scrabble tonight and I’m going to be humiliated even with sleep!

This noise has been a long time coming. The mammoth tree that came down in last year’s record storm is finally leaving and along with it, the spider infested shed that was completely rotten. As you can see from the photos in the post below, it was Ivy and plain stubbornness keeping the thing standing. Besides being useless, it has also become the Black Widow Hotel for the neighborhood. Yikes! So, down it came.

Along with it came the top half the of Laurel hedge. IZ can now see Young’s River and the basin below from his office. He’s elated. One of the gardeners salvaged this nest from the Laurels. I do hope whatever bird it belonged to has moved on. What a pity if it should come back and find in its absence that its building went co-op! I’ve reluctantly allowed Luke (the owner of Arbor Care, can’t recommend these guys enough if you’re local!!) to take the nest to his girlfriend who is a photographer and artist.

And along with the Laurels came down a good portion of my Lilac bushes/tree. One of which was so top heavy that the weight of all those blossoms was causing its trunk to split. Luke was nice enough to not slaughter the tree completely, as it’s still blooming. It will be pruned back further in the fall and he promises me that it will return to bloom again next year. I’ll be hedging my bets, pardon the pun, just the same and planting a few others in the hole. Just because lilacs grow like weeds here in Astoria is no reason I shouldn’t plant more! (and do click on the Astoria link: Old Oregon finally updated their outdated site and in its place is a lovely site full of amazing photos of the area! Change, change, it’s everywhere!)

The majority of the blooms were tossed. However, I managed to do a little salvaging of my own. I cut down three, large, branch sections worth of lilac stems and then bundled them up and delivered them to neighbors. It seemed such a waste to let them all go into the chipper.

And now the real work begins: clean up! Rain is promised for tomorrow—but today, it is glorious outside. All this change is hard to absorb but I’m salvaging hope in the midst of destruction. It’s hard not to be hopeful when the sun is out and your world smells of lilacs.

Going:

Going:

Gone:

I’m trying not to think of it as a big gaping hole in my backyard, but as  an opportunity to plant more lilacs.

Our Praying Mantis egg hatched this weekend: we now have hundreds of these lovelies in our garden.

Ok, so I am attempting to track our progress with the taming our overrun yard. Of course, I could just post pictures, but that would be boring. Besides, dear reader, you have grown so accustomed to my snarky commentary you might be lost without it. And if there is anything we here (ok, ME) at Evidently strive to do it is to meet expectations and keep our readers happy–all twelve of you! (aside: I really need to recruit a 13th reader–I’m starting to feel like the Messiah with my faithful 12. Seriously, tell a friend. Tell your grandma. Leave your boats, your desks, your upscale government jobs! I will make you fishers of. . . Oh, nevermind) So! Here you go. Pictures and words: In an attempt to shape up our yard and add some curb appeal: ok, really to just be able to hold our heads up in the neighborhood–we sought out some well timed advice on dealing with our pitiful yard self.
Here is what our experts at WNTW:TYE suggested.

You have to be Cruel to Be Kind: And Sweeties, YOU ARE A MESS!

• No, No, No! What have we told you about leaving the house without sunscreen? You need to moisturize! Dry soil is a dead
  give away that you don’t care about your appearance. To this end, we recommend a healthy dose of water each day, and invest in a good sunscreen. Your beds aren’t getting any younger, you know!

• Um…dead roses? A Yard DON’T, unless you want people to think you are older than you look. We know the house behind you was built in 1920–but do YOU need to look like you were planted in 1920? We didn’t think so! Out with those gnarly old roses… think, hip, youthful, spring-like.

• Frazzled ends? Heaven forbid! The fashionable yard knows that a good pruning now and again encourages healthy growth in the long run. So don’t hide from those prunning shears. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt you to weed a bit either.

• No, No, No! Rust is so last year! For this Spring, think soft
  whites and dewy creams. Paired with verdant greens, this is
  a “can’t go wrong” look. Really, lose the rust stains… N. O. W.

• What did we tell you about dressing your age? Seriously, nothing says, “An Octogenarian lives here” like brick edging. Hint: We hear you can sell those for .50 a pop at a yard sale. So, save your pennies and invest in something more… You!

• Foundational pieces are the keys to good yard dressing! We think red lava rocks are the Grannie panties of the gardening world… While we don’t think you have the “bones” to sport a visible thong, might we suggest something that will support your figure? Like lovely mulchy bark? Not only will it keep your figure in shape and support all that new plant life–it will retain moisture. Remember, moisture is good.

So, our fearless gardeners attacked their yard over the weekend–takinginto consideration all the good grooming tips… here are the results:

It’s a DO! (kinda)

• Wonderful! We see you took us seriously about the mulch and more youthful plantings. We wholly approve of your choice of flowering crabapple–and that you scored such a bargain at Costco! See–fashion doesn’t have to be expensive. However… we think those overgrown Barberry (who plants thorny hedges in their entryway?) and Honeysuckle monsters plants need a trimming–or, if you are really brave, a chainsaw. We see a hockey mask in your future. Just sayin!

• Ah, yes… edgy, but not too edgy. We think you’re ready to greet guests! The choices of Lupine, Euphorbia, and Blue Fescue are inspired. Well done. And while we notice your sidewalk could use a bit of sweeping, you’ve done a lovely job prepping that hideously stained wall for a good coat of paint. It’s almost clean enough to eat off of, but you’ll understand that when we don’t, right? We know you don’t have a courageous seed in your soil–so we won’t even hint that you might want to consider a color for that wall. But until you grow a spine, think white and do it soon.

(more…)

More pictures below.

(more…)

It’s possible someone should take my camera away from me. Heh. (still waiting for my pot to be delivered. I hate waiting.)

Another morning at Sunnyside. As usual, I bought more plants than I have pots … so I will probably be a nursery whore and head out to Home Depot where I can get a better selection of terra cotta (not to mention better prices) than at Sunnyside. Usually, I’m fairly wrapped up in making a choice… hard for me to do considering the selection. But today I happened to pay attention to the other “people” and I couldn’t help but notice that I was the only person under 70 shopping for plants! I’m way ahead of my time, it seems. So it was me, a bunch of 70+ women and a slew of 20 something men to help us with our potting soil. Note to all my single friends… Your odds look really good at Sunnyside. I suggest you head there instead of Ted’s!

Empty Pot.