Then This Happened

Some consideration was given to creating a Mothers Day post.

Then, this happened:

The amaryllis which had languished in the potting shed was springing to life before my very eyes.

After several months of sporadic attention in the Pot Before You Are Finished For Good, the Christmas-time flower is going to be just a little late for Mothers Day.

I could not ignore its valiant efforts to please, so I moved the PBYAFFG to the courtyard, 

where, I saw these:

Overnight, these big, fleshy leaves had produced the perfect shade of lavender on straight and sturdy stalks.  Again, I couldn't ignore the magnificence; off to the garden center I went.

I transplanted unhappy osteospermum and added some gonfreda and deadheaded and amended and left some fun for tomorrow.  This gladiola began peeking out on Saturday; this was as far as she got by Sunday evening.  I'm going to entice the rest of her friends out tomorrow,

 as I end my planting for the season.

It's a short, but wonderful, season.

Happy April, Garden Lovers

I am tired of reading my friends' complaints.

There is snow where there should be crocus blossoms.

The bunnies are hopping through drifts, seeking sustenance.

We have no such problems here in the desert Southwest.

This volunteer desert marigold (Baileya multiradiata) is nestled comfortable beside these rocks.

The bunnies sniff but don't seem to be that interested.

The ground squirrels are clambering up the barrel cacti, pulling out the tuna and sucking the juices.

They often leave their trash behind; do you see the empty tuna on the top of his brothers?

This golden barrel cactus provided protection for the bluebells. 

Old friends are returning, too.

These clusters were planted the first year we arrived.

For the next five summers, I watched and waited and nothing happened.

Suddenly, this year, these appeared.

I'll post pictures if they turn out to be more than these green leaves.

The prickly pear cacti (Opuntia) are getting ready to bud.

The soft-in-appearance-but-dangerous-to-the-touch new paddles are green and attractive.

This year I managed to remember the existence of those pesky glochids; 

I kept my un-gloved. hands away from them. 

Proving that the right plant in the right place works every time,

this aloe's stalks are three feet high.

The goo inside the leaves soothes my pricked hands after a day in the dirt in the desert.

I can use it with impunity; more just keeps coming.

This year I put gladiolus bulbs right into the dirt.

To my amazement, they've begun to send up signs that flowers might be on their way.

The damianita to the right are in full bloom.

They are unattractive without all those yellow flowers, but they're so pretty right now that I forget how much they annoy me for eight months of the year.

This is Euphorbia Antisyphillitica and yes, they did use its sap to treat syphillis.

Those delicate pink flowers don't last very long, but they make me smile every time I see them.

This is the last full rose bloom left on the plant.

One full cycle has already bloomed and blown.

Never fear.

There's another bud right below it. 

I grow veggies, too.

This year, the cherry tomato plant never got further than a flower pot.

Still, it seems that the fruits are on their way. 

This is how the pots look without a tomato growing in their midst.

I'll have to replant them when the heat sets in, but, for now, these double petunias are simply gorgeous

(if I do say so myself).

There are special tools used for trenching, and I hired Rillito Nursery to use them and to connect a drip system to the containers around the house.

 I'm using a bit of my inheritance to pay for it, and I've felt G'ma's approving smile as I watch the workers ply their trade.

Everything was going along swimmingly until Dave pointed out the new home for migrating bees in my yard. 

He thinks they are resting before moving on.

If they are still there by Friday, he suggests I call someone.

Until then, I'm going to enjoy the spring.

Too Much of a Good Thing

The most surprising answer on the pre-test during my first Master Gardener class here in Arizona was this:

The most frequent cause of plant distress in the desert is overwatering.

Yes, denizens, there is such a thing as too much of a good thing... and I have the photos to prove it.

Apparently, too much perlite... old perlite... improperly stored perlite... leads to situations like this

as the extraneous pellets flee the saturated soil in the shallow pot,

and this 

as the soil clumps together in impenetrable clods

making it impossible for the roots to pick up any nutrients at all.

They are waterlogged, drowned, soggy, sodden, sorry things.

They're not much good as decorative plants.

And so, I was back at it yesterday.

I rescued what seemed salvageable and repotted it with brand new soil.

I tried to ignore the fact that the two containers I had not improved were doing just fine

as was the succulent I transplanted into the dirt on the north side of the house.

Apparently, too much tender loving care is the equivalent of a death knell for growing things in the desert.

Who knew? 

The answer, unfortunately, is I did.

I would type more but I must return to the nursery for more supplies.

Just because I failed once, does not mean that I will not try again.

Gardening in the desert requires an acceptance of disappointment.

I'm getting very good at that.

Landscaping

The trucks were here before 8am.

Mountain laurel and texas ebony and fringe flower and ocotillo.

It hurt when the ocotillo and the texas ebony became entwined.  There were many tools and few fingers involved in separating them from one another.

The big boss came out to help me place the plants.  that's him wheeling the dolly.

It wasn't long til we called the bigger boss.

She came out and told us all what to do.

I liked having her around.

Some specimens come in black plastic buckets.

The bigger ones arrive in wooden containers. 

 The metal bands are handy for toting and turning.

This mountain laurel will keep people from staring into the library as I type to you.

At least, that's the plan.

It still has some growing to do.

There were power tools.

There were hand tools.

First they cleared the area of debris and ground cover and stones.

Neatness counts.

Then the power shovel comes out 

and the hole is dug.

The tools and irrigation supplies were kept clean on a tarp.

The soil was replaced, with just a touch of compost.  Although the Master Gardeners would disagree, Rillito Nursery swears by this mild amendment.  Their theory is that the tree has been growing in beautiful amended soil for all of its life.  If you don't give the roots something to reach for they'll never leave the root ball.

They have 2 vitex planted next to one another, one in gently amended and the other in back fill soils.  The amended one looks better, though both are alive.

As Dominique Browning says in Slow Love, you're better off with a So What attitude when it comes to the garden.

Sometimes the hole required a more in-depth approach.

And sometimes it didn't.

Finding the irrigation was a challenge.

By the afternoon, it started to take shape.

The trees were properly staked, like this willow acacia.

They worked til 3 and were rewarded with cash and a Hershey bar.
I'm sitting here smiling at my new treasures.
I don't even feel bad that I couldn't help.

It was nice to watch others do the work for a change.