An 18 day trip to the East coast found us spending four days with Alexis in the little college town of Northamption, Massachusetts.  Northampton is an old town and the most impressive plantings are really the seemingly ancient trees that lucky for me were in their full regalia.  Unlike the year round West coast gardens that I have come to be used to, here there is a definite "closing time" for the gardener.  I guess it's this gardener's hibernation that makes East coast gardenistas really enthusiastic when spring hits.  Not only do you see people outside in their shorts ( even if it is a little chilly for shorts) working their gardens but theses gardeners have had a long winter to consider their future plantings and in many cases start the seedlings in their windows as the melt begins.  When Alexis had asked me to help her plant her Northampton garden, I had imagined a pastorial plot, that would have long rows of different vegtables.  My greatest fear was where to get the hekp to do all the digguing it would require.  It was a welcome surprise when I realized that Alexis garden would be a small patch in the front of her house that had great sun expsoure.  The garden area, that was now quite overgrown,  had at one time been a well watched and maintained area.  Buried under years of dirt and that seasonal Western Massachusetts ice were brick borders and even a early version of weed control fabric.  There were also some interesting plants that were either perennials or weeds and recalling Ralph Waldo Emerson's definition of a weed; "A plant whose Virtures have not yet been discovered," we plotted the tomatoes randomly around the long term inhabitants of the garden.   Alexis had gone the route of starting her tomatos from seed, some thing that I have never done.  Now, several weeks after the planting Alexis comments how her neighbors plants are looking robust even in the not hot enough climate, and her seedlings are dependant on applications of fish emulsion and TLC.  This consternation will quell when at the end of the season all things are equal, and Alexis will have the sense of accomplishment of having nurtured this amazing fruit from seed and not a Home Depot Garden Center six-pack.  

Parkway Update (It's working!)

Thank God for little sisters, even if they are over 40.  

The parkway is flourishing very nicely.  I am watering it through the sprinkler system twice a week.   The California Poppies came up first.  Actually I believe the poppies may be responsible for smothering some of the other seedlings.  In addition to the orange of the poppies and the pink of the Clarkia, the blues and purples are expected soon.  We shall see.

  

I am considering eradicating what's left of the grass  patch in my back garden, without the use of chemicals or extensive labor, as I listen to Jon Bansen, a third generation dairyman, talk about how he raises his Jersey cows without antibiotics or chemicals.

Jon Bansen says that 60 years ago there was no need to push organic farming because that's all there was.  I'm at the Seattle Green Festival and Bansen is the speaker at a seminar called "Organic Farming."  The seminar  isn't specifically about organic farming.  Specifically it's about raising Jersey milking cows organically.  Which is ok with me, I just wish they had billed it that way.  Bansen as it turns out, in addition to being a contributing writer for Graze Magazine, is also the West Coast regional leader of Organic Valley Farmer Ambassador Program and one of the Cooperative's Dairy executive committee representative for the state of Oregon.  So as it turns out Bansen's cooperative is one of the country's largest organic food makers, Organic Valleys.  Again all this is fine with me, his talk was informative and convincingly from the heart.  I just wish they had called it something other than Organic Farming.  All of these Green Festival festivities and these organic seminars are making me think more about my real problem of getting rid of the grass.  

The grass has to go because like my parkway, under the guise of environmentalism, I want a maintenance free garden.  getting rid of the grass, going with a three inch covering of small pebbles, and letting the sprinklers only hit the perimeter vegetation.  Guise or not this is a water saving sustainable re design.  Anytime I want to plant something I can scrape away the pebbles, dig it in and put a dripper right to it.  Simon and Bailey can relieve themselves in an emergency and a scooper or a hose off drains in into the earth.  Jeff Werner warns that my grandchildren might prefer to play in the grass.  If that becomes the case I will scrape up the rocks, apply top oil and sod it out again.  

After two weeks of no water on the grass, it continues to flourish.  The treatments are either too toxic or too costly.  I feel the best solution is to hire of band of workers to dig it out.

Under The Cloak Of Environmentalism

Mow, blow, and go.

That's how my friend Paul Henman described the gardeners he had just hired to maintain his property on Kings Road, above the Sunset Strip. These guys don't pick particular bedding plants for a particular season, or plot out an English garden. Most don't know the difference between an annual and a perennial. They mow the grass, blow the clipping, and go off to the next gig. In fairness to this genre of the gardening trade, they are relatively inexpensive and fast. With respect to the Master Gardeners of Southern California it seems that the majority of he work force are the mow, blow, and go guys.

My favorite was a man I employed between 1984 and 1999. Gonzalo Mayoral billed himself as a landscaping expert trained in Mexico by un jardinero principal. Based on his boasts I would let him, and pay him, to pick plants and layout schemes for my garden areas. Some worked, some didn't. Most didn't. Gonzalo Mayoral was a mow, blow and go guy. He did work for us from the time our daughters, Alexis and Sloane, were babies and well into their teens. So it came as no surprise when as a momentary enterprising teen, Alexis announced that she would take over the mowing. Gonzalo was out. Alexis was in. Alexis went to college. Sloane, whose prowess with blade wielding machinery was an unbearable thought and was less enterprising, totally rejected the idea of mowing. Suddenly I was the mow and blow guy, I had no place to go. This lasted better than five years. Oh, its great exercise. Well not as good as a hike in Griffith Park or getting beat in a rousing match of tennis. It's a bore. An idea flashed.

Under the cloak of enviromentalism, after all the gas fumes and the wasted water were quickly becoming politically incorrect, I decided to eliminate the chore of mowing and blowing. I started with the parkway. A parkway is many things. In my neighborhood it is the strip of grass between the street and the sidewalk. Mine was a strip of over watered, over fertilized, crab grass that needed weekly mowing. The only purpose that I saw it fill was a bail out area for a shaky kid on blades, a skateboard or the first trip down the sidewalk without the training wheels. It was also the first indicator, a realtor told me, of curb appeal. So whatever I did it had to look good.

I began by installing some drought tolerant plants, removing large areas of the crab grass aromund them. In the grass-less perimeters I sowed wild flower seeds. Now there was less grass but I still had to mow and now negotiate my mower between the plants. No good. The people came from the Toluca lake garden club and put in a magnolia tree. They didn't comment but I think they were whispering about my unfinished masterpiece. I started to remove the grass. Every blade every root. Tedious and extremely boring. Neighbors were staring as I sifted soil from the roots. I called Tony the handyman and in three hours he and his sidekick Jose had all the grass removed.

Oddly enough Balboa Brick across from the Van Nuys airfield sells bark chips. I was shocked that it took 26 bags of the stuff to lay in a 3 inch covering. The guy at the yard had suggested that I buy a scoop (the contents of a front loader). I rejected his advice and it cost me twice as much. Now it's a strip of plants, wildflowers that are on the move, all surrounding a youthful Magnolia tree. In the spring and early summer is a mass of tangled wild flowers that look nearly as good as they start to die off as they do when they are in full bloom. In the sumer and winter its a neat brown area that hosts the perennials which are in permanent residence. The maintenance consists of pulling the stray blade of grass, kicking the bark off the sidewalk and picking up the styrofoam cups the busboys from the local greasy spoon leave behind. Mission accomplished. Now the back garden...

In 1997 I visited Jesuit priest turned anti-war activist 74 year old Philip Berrigan in the Federal Prison in Portland Maine.  He had just beat the computers on a nuclear powered naval vessel with a ball-pean hammer and then marinated the wreckage in his own blood that he had collected in baby bottles in the months prior to his "action".  He talked to me about a lot about the evils of war and frequently quoted the prophet Isaiah 2:4, and harped on Isaiah's mantra to "pound swords into plowshares", a concept in which military weapons are converted for peaceful civilian application. (A bizarre concept!)  As peaceful  a man he was, he seemed to have (and his "actions" took on) a violent edge.  I thought about Phil Berrigan when I read last week about Guerrilla Gardening. The concept is simple enough.  Find a patch of land (any size) that is barren or ignored, clean it up, plant some seeds, water it and create beauty where there once was ugly.  Why though the name, "Guerrilla Gardening"?  Why take something nice and give it a violent edge?  The website for the Los Angeles Guerrilla Gardening chapter recommends going on night missions and the story in the Los Angeles Times  talks about a group of school kids who were held by LAPD until backup arrived, then released with a warning.  Would this have happened if their mission had been "Barren Dirt Make-Over" instead of "Guerrilla Gardening?"  Would their (the school kids) attitude have been different?  Now the school kids have formed a group called The South Central Resistance and their saying is, not too unlike, "pounding swords into plowshares", "protect the plants at al costs."  Yikes.  Both the Los Angeles Times story and the LAGG website are worth checking out, especially the part about how to manufacture seed bombs.  For me I am going to find a piece of neglected earth and see how I can quickly and inexpensively make it beautiful; but I won't refer to it as Guerrilla anything.  

February Planting Phase One (Carmel)

The University of California publishes a Vegetable Planting Guide for Santa Cruz County.  As it happens, on the Central Coast the planting times and seasons for Santa Cruz County and Monterey County are the same.  This then becomes my guide for planting.  In January I put in seeds for radishes.  This last weekend (Sunday, February 1) I put in seeds for Pole Peas (Sugar Snap), Beets (Detroit Dark Red), Cabbage (Dwarf Blue Curled Scotch), Butterhead Lettuce (Buttercrunch), Carrots (Nantes Coreless), and bulb sets of Red Onions.  The Peas and Beets got an ample mix of my latest compost and everything got a light sprinkle of dry organic fertilizer.  Although the soil is still damp I gave the planting a light sprinkle.  The pictures here show the garden plot in a wide shot and the closer shot is the location of the new seed plantings.  From the left; Lettuce/Kale, Cabbage, Beets, and Peas (note the poles.)  The Carrots are at the foot of these rows and the Onions are in a small separate area.  I was somewhat surprised that the onion bulbs are planted a mere two inches apart.  I hope I read this right.  Before the month is out I hope to sow some Parsley seeds.  Then, the plan for March os Broccoli, Cauliflower, and perhaps Spinach.