Tell the Truth Thursday (Late Edition): Lipstick on a pig

This post poses the question: Can an ugly truth hide behind a pretty exterior?  My garden contains plenty of support for the contention that it certainly can.  My north side garden is looking pretty in pink at the moment.

Leptospermum 'Pink Pearl' is literally covered in flowers, supported by a host of other pink-flowering plants

There's a touch of white to prevent the pink from becoming too sickeningly sweet

The area on the left lining the path that leads down the back slope is dominated by four pink-flowered plants at the moment.

Clockwise from the left: Leptospermum scoparium 'Pink Pearl', Centranthus ruber (aka Jupiter's beard), Oenothera speciosa (aka pink evening primrose), and Dorycnium hirsutum (aka hairy Canary clover)

I've allowed the Jupiter's beard, pink evening primrose, and hairy Canary clover to spread indiscriminately.  The first two plants have already crept down the back slope, laying claim to a significant area.

The back slope gets pinker with each passing day

Both the plants are completely out of control, although I suppose the same could be said for the Pelargonium 'White Lady' and the chartreuse Euphorbia's 'Dean's Hybrid'.  

It's become impossible to walk down the slope's concrete stairs without stepping on plants.  Our heavier-than-usual winter rain promoted rampant growth, which I utterly failed to curtail by properly thinning the seedlings.

For a couple of months, the back slope looks pretty.   The camera sees the frothy flowers and almost entirely misses the mass of weeds blanketing the portions of the upper slope that aren't covered in the dead ivy and honeysuckle vines left behind by last summer's horrific heatwave.

The weeds are between one and 3 feet tall but you probably didn't even notice them in the first two views of the slope did you?

I've pulled the weeds I can reach from where I stand on the concrete stairs but I can't reach the large majority of them.  I'm seriously considering investing in knee-pads to see if I can crawl a bit higher to reach at least some of these but I've no illusions I can clear all of them without hiring sherpas.

Meanwhile, in the front garden, I've let a prettier weed take over an area that I could clean up without fear of breaking my neck.

There's a 2-foot wide flagstone pathway in there but you can't see much of it anymore!

I cut back the Acacia 'Cousin Itt' on the left in an earlier effort to clear the path but the clover just moved in the take over the space

I thought I could control the clover but it's advance is relentless.  Thus far, I've rationalized my inaction based on the argument that clover fixes nitrogen in the soil; it prevents the raccoons from digging in areas it occupies; the bees like it; and it has pretty flowers.  In light of those considerations is it so bad that it makes it difficult for me or anyone else to walk through the front garden?  When our remodel starts, I expect it'll get trampled anyway...

Tell the Truth Tuesday is the brainchild of Alison at Bonny Lassie.  Visit her here to discover the ugly truths other gardeners are hiding.

All material © 2012-2019 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party

The joy that rain brings

Last year was one of the driest in Southern California since records have been kept but this year we're on target to reach or exceed our "old normal" standards.  The rain has come in several bursts over consecutive days.  Our last storm cleared out Tuesday morning.  There's a chance of another this weekend and still another during the middle of next week.  We've been lucky to have a couple of sunny, albeit cold, days in the intervening period, during which I took time to clean up the garden a bit and take some pictures.  It already looks as though were headed in the direction of a nice spring.

I don't usually get much pleasure out of visiting my back slope but on this occasion it offered a few positive surprises.

The lemon tree that dropped every single piece of fruit in early July when our temperature hit 110F has fully recovered

Ceanothus arboreus 'Cliff Schmidt', planted in 2015, is finally taking on the tree-like form I envisioned for it

With the rain, the calla lilies (Zantedeschia aethiopica) planted decades ago by another gardener at the bottom of the arid slope have magically reappeared

Centranthus ruber has self-seeded generously in the same area and it looks as though the California poppy plugs I planted in December are thriving too

On the main level of the back garden, I couldn't miss the fact that the Xylosma congestum hedge that surrounds it produced fresh new foliage.

The garden service that maintains our hedges cut the new foliage back the day after I took these photos but, with more rain expected I don't think it'll be long before my "ring of fire" is back

The backyard offered other surprises as well.

I'd entirely forgotten these plants with the tiny white flowers.   I think they smartly went underground last summer.   This is Arabis alpina 'Variegata'.

This is the first flower on Isopogon anemonifolius, an Australian plant I picked up on a whim while plant shopping in November.  It's interesting but it doesn't look like much like it did on the plant tag; however, I'll give it more time to develop before making any decision about whether it stays or goes.

Plants showing flower buds include: Ageratum corymbosum (left) and Leucospermum 'Brandi' (right).  It'll be awhile yet before either will be in full bloom but it's nice to see progress in that direction.

My discoveries weren't limited to the back garden.

Euphorbia rigida is blooming in the succulent garden on the south side of the house

Leucadendron 'Safari Goldstrike' produced its luminescent flower-like bracts seemingly overnight in the front garden

After looking near death this summer, Aeonium 'Mardi Gras' is blushing again

Moss has appeared on paths, along the stairs leading down my back slope and between paving stones

The first flowers have opened on the tall bloom stalks produced by the 2 Agave desmettiana 'Variegata' planted in my street-side succulent bed.  The foliage of each plant now has a pretty pink blush too.  I don't know if that's a reaction to the cold or simply part of its slow process of dying.

Along with the calla lilies, the first Freesia bulbs are flowering.  I expect my other early spring bulbs aren't far behind.

The blue Freesias are the first to appear this year.  Ferraria crispa (upper right) has also produced fresh foliage.  Leucojum aestivum, Narcissus and Sparaxis are also on their way.

I know it's been a nasty winter for many of you in the Northern Hemisphere but spring is getting closer.  Take heart!


All material © 2012-2019 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party

The saddest part of my garden

Alison who blogs as Bonney Lassie recently encouraged bloggers to "tell the truth" about the ugly bits in their gardens instead of showing only the pretty parts. Stepping up to the challenge, I'm providing a close look at my back slope.  I've shown it on occasion, usually in long shots that disguise just how crappy it looks.  Most people who visit my garden never see it at all as it's hidden behind the hedge that lines the main level of the back garden.

At a glance, you might think this gravel path on the northeast side of the house ends at the fence in the background

But, if you walk to the end of that gravel path, make a sharp pivot and look down you'd see this:

All the area to the right of the bay laurel hedge on the left is part of my garden.  My husband and I didn't even know it was there until we discovered it during the course of the final inspection prior to the close of escrow.

The concrete block stairway wasn't there when we purchased the property.  There was just a dirt path, a slippery dirt path.  After I fell a few times, my husband decided we needed to create a safer way of moving through the space.  He hauled in forty-one 50-pound concrete blocks to construct the stairway.

Our property was once part of rock quarry and large rocks can still be found here and there.  My husband had to work around many of these as he set the concrete blocks in place.

I had a lot of plans for the garden when we took possession of the property but the back slope wasn't even on my radar at first.  However, almost from the time we moved in, one thing kept drawing us down to the bottom of the slope.

The lemon tree close to the southeast property line bears fruit nearly continuously.  The only events to halt fruit production were two extreme heatwaves, both of which caused the tree to drop all its fruit nearly overnight.  In each case it took the tree several months to recover but recover it did.

I gradually found myself making small changes in the area.  While I turned a blind eye to the ivy and honeysuckle-covered upper portion of the slope from the beginning, I took tentative steps to plant the lower section after clearing out the weeds that covered the area.  Even though I knew it was foolish from the start, I used the extensive collection of wood and rubber tree rings left by the previous owner to hold the soil in place as I began to add plants.

This photo from February 2015 shows the tree rings I used to hold the soil and my new plants in place

As you might expect, the tree rings have decayed over time.  I've pulled out about three-quarters of them already.

While some of the plants I originally installed rooted well, others did not and, as I begin to fill in the empty areas, another solution is required to prevent further erosion of the soil.  I'm considering erosion control tubes filled with soil or compost but my husband favors a more permanent solution in the form of concrete blocks.   Not only are those are heavy and awkward to carry down that steep stairway, my concern is that they may distract from the plants themselves.  The debate is ongoing.

The bigger issue now is what to do with the upper slope.  Ignoring it was easier when it was the mostly uniform green mass you see in the 2015 photo but extreme heatwaves in 2016 and again in July of this year took a serious toll.

It's not as obvious when viewed from above

as it is when viewed from below.  Earlier this year, I started cutting back the dead ivy and honeysuckle vines but I gave that up when the heat soared, covering the area I'd cleared with cardboard in the hope of preventing weeds and ivy from growing  there.

The slope hadn't yet recovered from the 2016 heatwave when our temperature soared to 110F in July, making things even worse

With one bad knee, this area is far too steep for me to manage myself.  I think I might be able to clear an area of about 5 feet all along the edge of the slope as I started doing earlier this year but there's no way I can eradicate all the ivy and honeysuckle up to the top of the slope.  I've considered hiring a team to remove the troublesome vines but then I'd still have to grapple with the problem of terracing the slope in some fashion to allow replanting and, ivy being ivy, I'm concerned that weeding out new shoots will be a perpetual problem.  If I can clear a workable area along the stairway, I may try planting soft succulents like Agave attenuata and shade-tolerant grasses but I still have to solve the erosion problem.

The area below the stairway was also affected by the heatwaves.  Some plants died outright while others just looked like hell.

From left to right: Euphorbia 'Dean's Hybrid', Pelargonium 'White Lady', and a dead Ribes viburnfolium

I started work on cleaning up the area in late September as our summer heat abated but then I had a run-in with what I believe were fire ants and I was gun-shy about working in the area for awhile.  Prior to the last rainstorm, I went to work down there again, mainly in tidying things up.  I pruned the fig tree; cut back the Centranthus, Euphorbia, and Pelargonium; dug out the dead Ribes and replaced it with a manzanita (Arctostaphylos bakeri 'Louis Edmunds'); pruned the other two Ribes, the bush anemone (Carpenteria californica), and the groundcover lantana; planted Aeonium haworthii 'Kiwi Verde' cuttings and Santolina plugs; and sowed California poppy seeds.  It looks neater, if also very bare.

I'm hoping the Centranthus, Santolina and the small artichoke plants that survived July's heatwave will fill in the bare areas.  There are self-seeded pink evening primroses there too that, given enough rain, may also come back.

In addition to the ivy on the upper slope, the ivy along the property line still needs to be cut back and I have the perennial problem of controlling the Bignonia capreolata vine I inherited.

Ivy creeps up from the neighbor's area (immediately behind the Pittosporum 'Silver Magic' we planted to mark the boundary line after the giant Yucca elephantipes was removed a few years ago).  I cut it back a couple times a year but I should probably tackle it on a bi-monthly basis.

That huge green mound is the Bignonia, which drapes over all 3 properties that meet at this corner.  Given its mammoth trunk, it's possible that the plant was installed decades ago, perhaps before the land was divided into 3 lots.  (The original owner of our place sold off pieces of the property on both sides of ours, leaving us a very odd 6-sided lot.)

I'm not at all sure what I can accomplish in remaking this part of the garden but it's too much space to simply forfeit.  And it does have  it's positive aspects.

The Aeonium arboreum and Agave attentuata I planted in the area have done well, although the Agaves were burned in the July heatwave.  The artichoke I planted a few years ago always comes back and always bears chokes, leading me to plant several more, only 3 of which survived the past very dry summer.  Centranthus (lower left) is virtually a weed here but it's pretty pink and white blooms give the area color in late spring.  The bay laurel hedge is dense and screens most of my neighbor's chain-link fence (even if its suckers are an issue).  The calla lilies (Zantedeschia aethiopica, lower right) reappear reliably once the rains start and, while they didn't flower well this year, I'm hoping for a better performance in 2019.

Well, that's it for the ugliest area of my garden.  Any suggestions?  What would you do to handle soil erosion?

All material © 2012-2018 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party

A lot of work but not much to show from it

During the long Thanksgiving holiday, after the worst of our freak heatwave had diminished, I tackled 2 projects I'd been dreading: leveling out a dip in the backyard pathway and tidying up the back slope.  Neither of these projects can be considered fun, although once done they did offer a sense of accomplishment.

It'd have been difficult to show you the dip in the backyard path even if I'd thought to take photographs before I got started.  The ground had sunk in one area of perhaps 10 feet in length and 3 feet in width.  Because water tended to pool in that area, the creeping thyme that surrounded the stepping stones grew exceptionally thick, creating a dense green mat.  Lovely but not particularly easy to traverse.  Unfortunately, raising the soil underneath the flagstone meant first removing all the thyme, which was a tedious task.

With most of the surrounding thyme removed, maybe you can see the dip between the uncovered stones and those beyond them

We originally thought we could get away with moving 8 stones but we ended up moving 10

Fortunately, we had plenty of topsoil left from the batch we'd hauled in when I renovated the succulent bed in front of our garage.  There was still a pile left in our driveway, which my husband was more than happy to see gone so he helped out and did the heavy lifting removing the stones, adding soil, and then leveling and repositioning the stones.

I picked things back up there, filling in with more soil and planting 2 flats of  thyme (Thymus serphyllum 'Elfin') around the repositioned stones and the area beyond the pathway dip where the thyme had died back.

The plugs look small now but I hope they'll fill in quickly.  Rain would help but we've seen little of that thus far this season.

The pathway area in the foreground looks a little spare by comparison to the area in the distance but at least it's once again walkable

One project generally leads to another and this one was no exception.  While pulling some of the dried out thyme, I got carried away and began cutting some of what was encroaching on the succulents planted along the east side of the patio.

After chipping away at the mass of thyme that lined the patio's edge, I eventually gave in to my inner neat-freak and cleared it all away.  My initial plan was to plant new plugs of thyme there but I finally decided that the edges would look better planted in more succulents.  If all the local garden centers hadn't been transformed into Christmas tree lots, I'd probably already have this done but it may have to wait awhile now.

Part of the problem with the succulent bed area is that it's riddled with the bulbous roots of asparagus fern plants from the mass planted under the nearby mimosa tree, which I inherited with the garden.  This is just a tiny sample of what I pulled out.  Getting rid of the asparagus fern and its roots would be nearly impossible so I settled for cutting back both the plant and its roots.

My first pass at cleaning up the back slope took about 3 hours.  There's still more to do there - cutting back ivy encroaching on paths and pruning the Matilija poppy (Romneya coulteri) among other things - but I cut back the scraggly and sprawling plants and lightly pruned the shrubs and perennials on the lower level of the slope.

I focused on the area to the left of the cement stairway but didn't touch the upper section of the slope, which is too too steep for me to work on safely.  It remains a messy mass of ivy, honeysuckle and weeds.

Euphorbia 'Dean's Hybrid' dies out in sections each year but spreads to create new plants.  Cleaning it up and cutting it back was the most time-consuming chore in this area.

I also picked a lot of the lemons on this tree, giving many away.  This is the "after" photo so you can see it still bears plenty of fruit.  This tree was badly affected by the horrific heatwave of 2015 at the height of our drought, when it lost all its fruit.  It took more than a year to recover.

I also added amended topsoil to the lower planting bed and planted artichoke plugs.  Against all odds, the artichoke I planted there 3 or 4 years ago has come back each year.  Last year's crop of artichokes was especially good, perhaps due to our heavier-than-usual winter rains.  Dare I hope for the same this year?

The artichoke in the middle foreground is the one I planted years ago, sticking a plug there because I had one left over and didn't have another place for it.  I really hadn't expected it to survive, much less thrive.  I've added 5 more plugs this year and will be happy if even half perform as well as the first one has.

While I haven't done anything at all with the upper portion of the slope (mainly because working in that area is too treacherous for me with one bad knee), at least the overall area looks a bit neater.  I'm still thinking of bringing in help next year to clean out the ivy and honeysuckle on the upper slope.  Terracing the area to support ornamental grasses or more succulents remains a dream.

View looking up the slope from next to the lemon tree

The back slope usually peaks in late spring when the Centranthus, Ribes and Oenothera bloom.  However, the calla lilies there usually bloom in late winter and, even with our extended heat spells, they're already making an appearance.

The calla lilies (Zantedeschia aethiopica) die down completely and disappear during the summer but healthy foliage is now popping up all around the lemon tree.

Meanwhile, work on my long awaited lath (shade) house continues.  It's now spilling out of my husband's workshop and the garage into the driveway.  I'm so excited!

The structural supports occupy the driveway.  In the recesses of the garage you can just make out the lath pieces.  

Have a great weekend, whether you're spending it in the garden or otherwise!


All material © 2012-2017 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party