A little progress and a few lost causes

Given that the feeling of spring has been in the air for some time now, I've done remarkably little plant shopping and not a lot of planting either.  My focus has been on maintenance and weeding, more weeding and still more weeding.  However, earlier this week I finally hunkered down and transplanted a few agave pups that have been waiting for their forever home for months.

This is a wide shot of my northeast side garden area taken in early January.  The pots have been sitting there for months.

I ended up planting just the 2 'Blue Glow' Agave pups I harvested from their bloomed-out parent last September, and one still tiny Agave colorata pup I'd potted up in 2024.  I plan to add filler plants, Pelargoniums perhaps, to soften the look there.

Closeup of the 3 agaves.  The shape of the 'Blue Glow' in the middle concerns me a little but I'm hoping it loosens up now that it's in the ground.

I relocated the Agave geminiflora in a pot but it may not stay there

I'd planned to plant the large Agave 'Mateo' in the ground but it was badly root-bound and infested with ants so I gave up on that once I broke it out of its pot.  I saved 2 good-sized pups for placement elsewhere.

I've continued to my pruning efforts, although I'm by no means done there.  It's been my number two maintenance project after weeding.

Pruning the 'Wilson Wonder's Leucadendrons is a biannual task.  The photo on the left was taken in early January.  Its colorful bracts had faded and the stems were above the roofline before I trimmed it back, as shown on the right.  Bringing down its height and girth also required cutting back the Pittosporum tobira hedge next to it to allow me to reach the back of the Leucadendron.

I pruned the Senna bicapsularis back by a third and I was surprised how quickly and how well it's bounced back

Working on the ivy that takes off whenever I so much as blink feels pointless at times but things would be worse if I sloughed off that task entirely.  The back slope provides the biggest challenge as I'm not in control of the mass of ivy that spreads across the property line on our southeast side - there's no fence or other barrier there and the property line itself isn't clear.  In addition, the ground drops off sharply in some places, which isn't readily apparent because they're buried under ivy.

I didn't take a "before" photo of this area.  This photo was taken an hour or more after I cut back the ivy and grass weeds that covered the area in the foreground.  There's still a lot of work to be done to push the ivy back another foot or more closer to the property line, which I need to tackle before warmer temperatures bring out the fire ants.

The mass of ivy to the left of the area shown in the earlier photo (shown on the left in this collage) included woody branches I initially thought were leftovers of the dead Ceanothus I had removed in November.  As it turns out, those are trunks of ivy plants that have grown several feet tall.  I cut those back as shown in the photo on the right but, once again, more work is required. 

I recently spent hours working on another project that could very well be a lost cause too: the removal of a massive clump of Boston fern (Nephrolepsis exaltata) that's crept under the fence between us and our neighbor on our north side.  I made two runs at it before I was even partially satisfied.

The "before" photo is on the left and the "after" photo is on the right.  The bulbous roots of the Boston ferns are everywhere but I dug up as much of them out as I could.  Routine scrutiny will be required. 

The list of what may be other lost causes is growing too.

The lime tree is still producing fruit but it nonetheless looks sad - and I haven't even tried to remove the Boston ferns at its base.  I'm learning in the direction of removing the tree next fall, in which case the ferns will come out with the tree.

It made no good sense planting this Grevillea lavandulacea 'Penola' between a fence and the narrow path that leads down our back slope in the first place back in 2011.  Although it's flowered well, it's become woody and rangy with lots of dead branches.  Grevilleas don't like being pruned to bare wood but I may give that a try to see if there's any hope of rejuvenating it.

This Leptospermum scoparium 'Pink Pearl'  looked awkward here even when it was backed by a fence.  Its trunk now leans like the Tower of Pisa (as a result of that fence), although it's blooming better than it did before.  I'll try reducing it by a foot in height but I suspect there are plants that would fit better into this spot.

This dwarf Japanese maple (Acer palmatum 'Mikawa Yatsubusa') isn't looking so good now that it's no longer protected from the sun and wind by the former fence.  I'll wait awhile to see how it looks a month or two from now.

I'm not the only one working on my garden either.  I watched two major projects in the works over the past week.

Our neighbors across the street had their back slope cleared of rosemary shrubs and replanted with other shrubs.  I think there's Coleonema 'Sunset Gold', Salvia leucantha and another shrub I can't identify in the mix but I haven't had the opportunity to ask them what they included.  The work took most of 2 weeks, interrupted at times by rain.

Work restarted across the canyon after a lengthy pause (since my September post) but it's still focused on that neighbor's sprawling patio.  The contractors resurfaced the stairs to match the adjacent walls and pillars.  It looks as though they may be installing a water feature too, as well as adding more metal pieces to the guardrails along the elevated walkway.  There's no evidence of new plant installations, though.  

That's in for me this week.  I plan to make another pass at the ivy on the back slope this weekend and hopefully prune my other 'Wilson's Wonder' Leucadendron, with more weeding thrown in of course.  Enjoy your weekend!

All material © 2012-2026 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party

It's raining cats and dogs!

No, it's not raining now.  Our most recent rain was last Thursday.  By late Thursday morning, all the clouds had left to offer were light sprinkles.  However, our rooftop weather station nonetheless suddenly went berserk.

When I looked to see if the weather gauge had recorded anything more than 0.05/inch for the day, I saw the numbers for both the daily rain and the rain year were rapidly increasing despite no evidence there was any rain outdoors.  Note the byline shown at the bottom of the screen, which actually said "It's raining cats and dogs,"  something I'd never seen before even during real downpours.

As the light sprinkles clearly didn't produce twenty-two inches of rain within minutes, my husband went up on the roof to take a look at our weather station.  He removed some debris and changed the battery in the unit.  We reset the data to the the last setting we knew to be correct, only to have the readings almost immediately jump again (without any noticeable rainfall).  At some point, the measure of the rain also somehow changed from inches to millimeters.  The next morning, this is what I found:

The system was no longer reporting any daily rain but look at the rain year total: 1,715.3 millimeters.  That's almost 68 inches!

My husband contacted the man who'd sold the weather station to him to see if he could account for the problem.  He offered one suggestion but my husband questioned it as, if that were the problem, it should've also affected the temperature and humidity readings, which it hadn't.  The seller agreed with my husband at that point.  They concluded that the sensor that tracks current rain may have been damaged somehow.  For the time being, we've reset the rain gauge again and will wait to see if the next rainstorm causes a repeat of the problem.

The weather station was a Christmas gift to me from my husband several years ago.  When I asked whether we should simply replace the unit, I was surprised to learn that a replacement would cost about $600!  So, if it happens again, he'll look into the possibility of replacing just the sensor.  For now, I have a backup plan.

I bought a simple plastic rain gauge, which I set out in my cutting garden

To the best of our knowledge, our current rain total for the 2026 "water year" (counted from October 1, 2025) is 10.64 inches in our location.  The nearby valleys, foothills, and mountain areas got much more.  We may have gotten a bit more at our location than we recorded in November as our gauge was temporarily clogged.  I found a monthly count for my zip code yesterday, which shows a total of 13.13 inches.  If correct, that isn't horrible, even if it turns out to be all we get for the current water year.

We've left our last recorded data as is for now as we can't definitively say that our total replicates that for the area defined by our zip code

There seems to be little chance of rain in the foreseeable future.  Our rainy season generally comes to an end by mid-April, which could mean that 10.64 (or 13.13) inches may be all we'll get until the next water year begins in October.  Last year's total was worse, though, at only 7.03 inches.  At least my rain storage tanks are full for the time being.

Meanwhile, there's snow in the nearby mountains again.

Until the stretch of rainstorms in February, snow totals statewide had been running low

And there are California poppies already blooming in my garden.

I had just a few poppies in total last year

All material © 2012-2026 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party

In a Vase on Monday: The calla lilies show up

My friend Hoover Boo (the handle she goes by on her blog, Piece of Eden) often says "rain is magic" and that seems to be the case this year.  Our largely unirrigated back slope came with a plethora of calla lily bulbs, something I discovered our first spring living here.  The plants go underground as soon as summer arrives, only to reappear with the rain.  However, I had fewer plants and very few flowers last year.  They seem committed to making a comeback this year.

I pulled 7 of the tall lily stems but cut them down to better fit with the other materials I collected

Back view: the Lotus berthelotii (aka parrot's beak) is attempting to steal the show

Overhead view

Clockwise from the upper left: Agonis flexuosa 'Nana', Antirrhinum majus, Freesia, Grevillea 'Poorinda Leane', Lotus berthelotii, and Zantedeschia aethiopica

I changed my mind a few times about a second arrangement, both about having one and what flowers I'd use if I did.  In the end, I leaned into the blues, primarily because they're so readily available at present.  The anemones and sea squill won't last long once the temperatures soar so I decided I'd best use them while I can. 

I added a touch of yellow to break up the blues a bit

Back view: I filled in with stems of Ageratina adenophora (aka Crofton weed), a plant native to Mexico and considered invasive in California, which I believe planted itself here a couple of years ago.  I cut it back hard last year but decided not to pull it out.  It hasn't spread (yet) but it has grown back to its former size.

Overhead view

Clockwise from the upper left: Ageratina adenophora, Narcissus papyraceus, Osteospermum '4D Pink', Anemone coronaria 'Azzurro', A. c. 'Lord Lieutenant', Hebe 'Grace Kelly' (which is gradually losing its variegated foliage), and Scilla peruviana

We got over two inches of rain last week, which was great.  Unfortunately, the additional rain originally forecast for later this week has all but completely evaporated.  AccuWeather's longer-term forecasts show the possibility of more rain in mid-to-late March but the chances they've floated are nothing to lay bets on.  Meanwhile, I'm all too aware that our rainy season typically comes to an end in April.

For more IAVOM creations, check in with Cathy at Rambling in the Garden.

All material © 2012-2026 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party

A walk in the park

I recently published a post on a hike I took along a local trail.  Just before our current stretch of rainstorms started, I decided to take another hike through a nearby park, officially known as Deane Dana Friendship Park.  The only prior post I could find related to it was published in 2019.  Although I'd swear I've visited there more recently, and on at least one occasion with a friend, I couldn't find any other links to that location either in my blog or in my photo records.

Online records generally refer to the park within the context of discussions of the larger Los Angeles County Parks & Recreation Department so they weren't entirely useful.  However, when directly questioned, I did get AI to tell me that the park in question encompasses 123 acres.  I found another source that referred to a 1.6 mile trail loop through the park but I don't think that reflects all the dirt trails that tie back to that main loop.  The park's official entrance is in San Pedro but I've never entered it from there, instead electing to walk one-quarter mile up the main road from my neighborhood to another one in order to enter the park far from its official entrance.

This first stretch up a busy road can be bit unnerving as the dirt path doesn't have traffic guardrails along the entire area

I wasn't able to see the house connected with this wide driveway across the street on the main road

Other large homes across the road could be seen but there was no sidewalk or walking trail on that side of road

When I reached the next neighborhood on my side of the main road, I walked through it, leading me to a back entrance to the park.  It wasn't a very welcoming entrance but it placed me at one end of what's shown as Fowler Trail on the park's online map.

This was the only signage visible once I walked through the small opening shown in the prior photo.  There was also a box containing bags to encourage visitors to pick up dog waste.

I set off on the paved section of the trail to my left first.

Yellow daisies lined the paved road here.  I turned around to photograph it so as not to include 2 visitors walking ahead of me in my photo (engaged in an angry discussion of a tax issue based on what I inadvertently overheard).

Ahead was a lookout area with signage.  This area, and much of the entire park, has been subject to a restoration effort to bring in native plants.

Views from the overlook of the area

Signage related to the restoration effort and resident creatures.  The park is known as a habitat for the endangered Palos Verdes blue butterflies (Glaucopsyche lygdamus palosverdesensis).

Sign referencing the restoration effort and vehicle restrictions (top).  The signs warning of rattlesnakes were everywhere!

What appears to be a parking lot

Just beyond that point, I departed from the paved road and headed uphill via one of the dirt paths.

That took me to another overlook and additional signs.  The sign on the left, which has sustained some damage over the years, addresses the indigenous Gabrielino-Tongva Tribe, which is associated with a large part of what is now Los Angeles County and the San Gabriel Mountains.

I spotted what I thought was a recreation facility based on both on the number of cars parked nearby and the sound of children at play.  An online search informed me that the Martin J. Bogdanovich Recreation Center, a 14-acre facility included in Friendship Park's 123 acres.

Beyond that point, I took another dirt trail to catch some sea views.

Most of this area looks down on San Pedro along the coast but the main road there intersects with Palos Verdes Drive South, notorious for its long-term landslide conditions, frequent repair work, and unpredictable road closures.  Trump National Golf Course sits off the same road, not far away. 

I've avoided Palos Verdes Drive South since our early house hunting days.  Land movement continues.

The grassy views overlooking the ocean are nice, though

I then took another dirt trail to the upper ridge, which runs along the back gardens of several homes.  It leads back to the spot at which I originally entered the park.

View of those homes from a distance

Dirt path as I moved in that direction

One of the things I noticed as I walked along this path was how much the back gardens of these homes varied in depth.  Those farthest from the spot I entered the park were generally narrow.

This one was terraced and had a depth roughly twice the size of the one next door

And this home had an even larger sprawling back garden

I walked back through the nearby neighborhood to head home.

Perhaps a third of the homes in this neighborhood had some amount of lawn in the front garden and/or along the parkway strip but many had branched out, installing more drought-tolerant plants.  The one in the middle of the bottom row had a low hedge of tightly trimmed rosemary.

A median planted with trees separated traffic on the main road from the neighborhood road here

Other sections of the path leading back to my own neighborhood offered no protection from the traffic, although this area provided a nice view of a canyon

The metal guardrails picked up in this area

This house, visible from my neighborhood below, was built just a few years ago.  I can vaguely remember the construction in process.

Home again, or nearly so.  This view from the trail next to the main road overlooks my neighborhood.  Our house can be seen in the distance with a white truck (not ours) parked in front of our hedge.

So that was my walk in the park.  It's very green and clearly gets mowed on a regular basis.  It offers a comfortable walk with gentle changes in elevation, at least in the areas I roamed.  I'll try to get back there in late spring or early summer, when I suspect there'll be more wildflower color to be found.  It wasn't an exciting walk but it also wasn't crowded.  I understand that the local dogs love the space.

Our rain total for the season is up to 10.64 inches but our rooftop weather station also appears to be on the blink (again).  I think the rain this week is over and done with.  Next week's prospects for more rain are uncertain at this point.

All material © 2012-2026 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party