The Case of the Missing Bulbs - or All's Well that Ends Well

Before I get into my little garden mystery regarding missing bulbs, I'll start with a few beauty shots of my back garden during what we expect will be a very short reprieve from the rain.  My "water year" to-date rain total (counted from October 1, 2025) is 2.89 inches but that tally may be low as my rooftop rain meter was clogged during the first twenty-four hours of the "atmospheric river's" movement through Southern California.  My total includes the 0.74/inch of rain delivered by October's surprise storm.  Counts quoted by nearby areas have suggested the total could be an inch or more greater than we recorded.  Downtown Los Angeles reported 3.47 inches just from the November rain and Santa Barbara was hit hard by 8.58 inches.  All those totals are many times greater than the norms for the southern part of the state in November, or most any other month here.  And we have a ninety percent chance of more rain starting this Thursday. 

View from the back door yesterday morning looking east

Another view looking south

Our backyard fountain is full to the brim for the first time in recent memory without any help from me

The next rainstorm is expected to roll from Thursday into Friday  My rain tanks are already full and, as the ground is saturated and everything is thoroughly wet, there's not much I can do in the garden at the moment.  I still have thirty Freesia bulbs, a handful of Anemones, and ten lily bulbs to plant but all will have to wait until next week when the garden's dried out a bit.  So on to the case of the missing bulbs!

I've admitted to ordering a large number of bulbs this year - and that's without acknowledging the pre-orders of dahlia tubers that won't ship until spring.  However, my biggest orders were three I placed on top of one another in mid-September, all companies that obtain all or the majority of their stock from Dutch bulb sellers.  The first of these orders from K. van Bourgondien shipped in early October, absent three Hippeastrum 'Razzmatazz' bulbs to be shipped at an unspecified future date.

I received my second order on October 21st from John Scheepers.  It also arrived absent a Hippeastrum, this time a single 'Aphrodite'.

I promptly planted the Dutch Iris but the Allium bulgaricum, Ipheion uniflorum, and Tulip clusiana bulbs are sitting a time out in the fridge to get the equivalent of a "winter chill" first

I subsequently received a UPS notice regarding my order to Van Engelen, my third supplier, referencing a pending shipment.  It was quickly followed by two additional messages from UPS showing changes to the delivery date window.  The last notice referenced delivery by the evening of October 28th.  Meanwhile, I received the delayed shipments of Hippeastrums 'Razzmatazz' and 'Aphrodite' separately from their respective sellers.

When I received nothing from Van Engelen by early November, I checked the UPS tracking notice and found they'd recorded a delivery of that package on October 24th.  We checked our camera and found confirmation that I'd opened the door and picked up a small package at the time indicated by UPS.  But I couldn't remember receiving any package from Van Engelen.  I scoured the garden and everywhere and anywhere I might have placed another box.  My husband asked if I was mixing up my bulb deliveries.  Acquainted with my proclivity for "purging" junk, he also asked if I could've tossed the box by accident.  I contended that any box containing the contents of the Van Engelen order would've been large and heavy as the order included six Hippeastrum and fifteen lily bulbs, which I'd be unlikely to throw out as cardboard trash but, as our trash and recyclables had already been collected, I couldn't verify that.  As I was upset that he appeared to think I'd experienced a "senior moment," he checked our cameras to see if he could track my movements involving boxed bulbs.  The only video we found showed me handling one of the recent Hippeastrum deliveries but the box label wasn't visible.

I finally contacted Van Engelen directly by email asking if my order was still in process.  I provided the order number Van Engelen had assigned me and was told there wasn't a pending shipment.  However, I made the mistake of referencing a UPS delivery on October 24th and the customer service representative simply stated that the company had record of a shipment initiated October 20th and delivered on October 24th.  I threw in the towel at that point and decided the bulbs (and $144) might well be a lost cause - but then I noticed that location information in my incoming email "correspondents" list showed "John Scheepers" even though the contact information shown in the message itself identified her as a Van Engelen representative.  I then recalled that I'd suspected but hadn't confirmed a relationship between the two companies.  Google AI confirmed that Van Engelen owns both entities.  For the record, they send out separate catalogs and accept orders separately under the two names.  They've established different minimum order amounts, their pricing is different, and their bulb offers aren't identical.  Effectively, Scheepers operates as a retail seller while Van Engelen is more of a wholesaler.

On November 5th, the day following my exchange with Van Engelen's customer service representative, I received another notice from UPS regarding a shipment to be delivered by November 11th.

The box was bigger and heavier than any of my prior bulb deliveries.  Although the cardboard box here was photographed showing Van Engelen's name, another side of the same box says John Scheepers.  The smaller boxes received with the Scheepers bulbs only had labels identifying Scheepers.

All my Hippeastrums have been potted up (including some purchased from a 4th company).  I hope to give some away as Christmas presents assuming they don't rot in their pots after all this rain.  I intend to put them under cover before the next storm arrives.

So, the mystery is solved and all's well!  I haven't been certified as demented yet but I clearly need to pay closer attention to the companies I'm purchasing from.  I've learned that UPS labels provide tracking numbers but those bear no direct relationship to company order numbers and one has to be careful in framing queries to customer service representatives.  I also learned that I probably shouldn't delete any UPS shipping notices based on "updated schedules" until the deliveries in question are in hand.  As I've just bounced around trying to track an Amazon order that's been shoved off to a patchwork quilt of delivery companies, sending me from a transportation company in Los Angeles to a logistics company in Alabama (which has promised to email the appropriate contact back in Los Angeles), I'm wondering if the old school method of conducting purchases locally may be easiest after all.

All material © 2012-2025 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party

This and that

I woke up Monday morning to find a thick blanket laying over the Port of Los Angeles below us.  This happens periodically each year but it still feels queer, like a scene from the Twilight Zone.  We're used to an active scene at the Port.  Even at night, it's fully lit up, like something you'd see from the window of an airplane as you descend to land at a busy airport.  On Saturday, the marine layer blew in during the late afternoon hours and the harbor lights were literally blacked out by the fog.  That, and the relative silence that seems to accompany dense fog, was creepy.   Then Monday morning, although the marine layer was entirely gone at our elevation by 6am, the fog condensed over the Port, making it virtually invisible.

All you could see of the harbor was the top of shipping cranes and the upper section of the Vincent Thomas Bridge

A closer look

This shot showing part of my back garden emphasizes how clear it was at our elevation by comparison to the Port.  Our property sits just over 800 feet above sea level.

As temperatures ramped up, the fog cleared, revealing the Port once again.

It was clear by 10am that morning.  The view revealed 2 cruise ships in the harbor.

The thick blanket was back - and even deeper - on Tuesday morning, however.

Even the cranes and bridge were buried under the clouds yesterday morning.  The fog never lifted entirely on that occasion.

The weather forecast suggests we're in for a marked change as the week continues.  There's a solid prospect of rain on the horizon, starting as early as Thursday and possibly stretching through the weekend.  That's a good/bad thing as my annual tree trimming exercise is scheduled to start at 8am Thursday morning.  The latest forecasts now suggest that rain won't arrive until late afternoon that day so I'm hoping that the tree service's work won't be postponed.  I'd like to get that activity over and done with.

The ornamental pear tree in the front garden is dropping leaves by the bushel.  I'm sweeping them up every other day now so I'm looking forward to that particular tree's scheduled trimming.  Seventeen trees and large shrubs are on the list for trimming and 2 dead shrubs are slated for removal so it'll be a jam-packed day.

There's still relatively little fall color here but, for perhaps the first time, the 'Hachiya' persimmon (Diospyros kaki) produced some pretty leaf color, along with its fruit.  The leaves usually go from green straight to brown before they drop.  In contrast, the 'Fuyu' persimmon is only just showing some color.

As I wait for the tree trimmers, I'm trying to get more bulbs in the ground before the next rainstorm, as well as continuing my fall garden cleanup.  

I spent most of my time in the garden yesterday watering and tidying things up, getting only 20 Ranunculus corms planted.  I received the last of my fall bulb orders yesterday and would love to get them planted up before the rain arrives but that may be unrealistic.  I still have a significant number of bulbs in the refrigerator getting the equivalent of their winter chill so they won't be planted until mid-December.

Meanwhile, my husband went ahead with removal of the wood fence bisecting our north side garden despite what I thought was an agreement to bring in a contractor to handle it.  He took the fence down in manageable stages.  (The plan for the fence's removal was discussed in an earlier post here.)

This was stage 2, which involved removal of two-third's of the planks between the posts

The rest of the planks went in stage 3

Removal of the posts was the hardest part.  My husband discovered that the posts (albeit not the cedar planks) were riddled with termite damage.

View looking from the northeast side of the garden looking west once the fence was gone

View from the cutting garden looking east

Once the active termites have been dealt with, the baton passes to me to weave the formerly separated areas together.  Sadly, I think the 'Pink Pearl' Leptospermums will have to go, much as I love them.  They look ungainly without the backdrop of the fence.  I'm trying to think of a spot to put one elsewhere but I expect I'll be filling in most of the empty space shown here, originally occupied with rosemary shrubs, with succulents.

The plan for removal of the pergola attached to the front of the house remains open for further discussion.

All material © 2012-2025 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party

Working through the gloom

It's June in coastal Southern California, which means we're in the thick of it with "June Gloom," when the marine layer is historically at its deepest and most persistent, often extending throughout the morning hours into mid-afternoon.  Occasionally, we don't see blue sky at all but, thankfully, that's not common at our elevation.  Earlier this week, we actually accumulated 0.02/inch of precipitation courtesy of the marine layer but, unfortunately, that's not a normal occurrence.  (Our rain total, counted from October 1, 2024 to the present stands at 6.91 inches.)  

Photo taken yesterday morning looking east from the back door.  Yesterday's marine layer cleared earlier than usual just prior to noon.

The marine layer keeps our temperatures down when they're soaring in inland areas so I generally appreciate it despite the gray skies.  This year, I'm having a harder time with it mainly because a heavier political gloom is hanging over us.  Every time I think the current administration in Washington, DC couldn't sink any lower, they manage to dig the country into a deeper morass.  The President's decision to call up California's National Guard to quell protests over immigration raids, despite the objections of the State's governor and Los Angeles' mayor, has arguably intensified rather than eased unrest this week.  That was followed by an order for the Marines to come in, which has no valid justification as far as I've heard.  And that's just the latest of a string of actions that has me wondering what country I'm living in.  With the acceptance of gifts from foreign governments and cash in exchange for pardons, it's feeling like the US is becoming a banana republic.

Despite my negative outlook, I've tackled several small projects in the past week, most associated with the fallout from the recent plant removals I undertook in response to Los Angeles County's new "defensible space clearance" ordinance.  To start with, I finally tackled extending the brick border around the front garden bed that formerly housed two large shrubs next to the house.

We couldn't get bricks identical to those I used earlier but I don't think the difference is very noticable

I plan to fill in the gap between the bricks and the flagstones with creeping thyme, Thymus serpyllum 'Elfin' if I can find it in flats

I also pulled together plants I had on hand to begin filling in the bed adjacent to our garage that once held a large red powder puff shrub (Calliandra haematocephala).

Digging out the rest of the plants here and supplementing the soil took a surprising amount of time and effort as the ground was rock hard

I'd originally intended to install a large agave in the middle of this bed but it was too narrow a space to accept the options I had available.  It looks bare with the cuttings, pups and divisions I had on hand but I'll probably add other small succulents to create a mosaic look when I get a chance to do some shopping.

At present, the plants in the bed include: Top - Aeonium 'Jack Catlin', A. haworthii 'Kiwi', and a noID Aeonium
Middle: Bulbils of Agave 'Multicolor' (2 harvested in 2023) and a "rescued" Agave ovatifolia 'Vanzie'
Bottom: Pups of Mangave 'Silver Fox' and bromeliad Nidularium wittrockia leopardinum

I pulled the remaining Mexican feather grass (Nassella tenuissima) in my backyard border as well.

The "before" shot on the left was taken after I'd already made a start on removing the clumps.  The photo on the right is the "after" shot.  I'll eventually add groundcover material, probably either creeping thyme or succulents.

Several other clumps lay further along the border as shown in the "before" photo on the left.  The "after" shot on the right shows a few of the large Amaryllis belladonna bulbs I uncovered pushing themselves out of the soil in that border, some of which I hope to transplant in this area now that it's cleared of grass.

My husband also embarked on a project.  It involves renovating my lath (shade) house, which he built for me as a Christmas present in 2018.  It admittedly needed a few minor repairs but he concluded that it'd become lopsided as the ground underneath had settled over time.  I couldn't see it: nothing was falling off the shelves or had rendered it unsafe, but he no longer considered it up to par.  He's doing the hard work.  I just got involved in the process of removing the plants to clear space for him to work.

Before shots

After it was emptied

Initial work in progress as he raised and leveled the first section on the west side

The work continues.  In addition to raising and leveling all 4 sides, he's upgrading the nails that hold it together and repairing holes in the roof created by critters.

My plants are scattered all over the larger garden.

Most of the smaller plants landed on our south-side patio.  Others were put wherever we could find a shady spot.  I heard complaints that I have "too many" plants.

The Epiphyllums that hung from an upper shelf in the lath house currently sit on the bench under our Magnolia tree in the front garden.  Of course, one of them chose to bloom now when it can't be properly appreciated.

This is the best photo I could manage of one of the Epiphyllum 'King Midas' blooms

Two of the larger potted agaves sitting immediately outside the lath house got moved to the north-side garden.

The Agave 'Mateo' in the rear pot will probably be planted in this north-side bed once the fence decision is made.  The other agave, which I think is an Agave geminflora, stabbed both my husband and me so it'll probably remain in its pot (somewhere safe).

I'm by no means done addressing the other areas affected by last month's plant removals but I'm taking them on as time permits.  We've stalled on what to do with the wood fence on the north side of the house but I hope to address the bed outside the living room windows sometime this month before it becomes too hot to plant anything.  There's no evidence that the Fire Department had begun conducting its inspections as yet.  Interestingly, experts have recently criticized California's plan to establish a "zone zero" around homes in high fire risk areas as inadvisable in many circumstances, as you can read here.

All material © 2012-2025 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party

June Gloom

The title of this post isn't a commentary on my current mood (although it's somewhat descriptive).  "June Gloom" is a common term for the marine layer that's characteristic of the weather along California's coast at this time of year.  It's not limited to the month of June either - it can occur as early as April ("Graypril") or May ("May Gray") and as late as September.  (There are names for July and August, "No Sky July" and "Fogust" too but, for some reason, I haven't found one for September.)  The marine layer usually emerges during the overnight hours and gradually lifts sometime in early to mid-afternoon, depending on its strength and how far one is from the coast.

I admit to a momentary sense of disappointment whenever I open the blinds in the morning to see overcast skies without a touch of blue but the marine layer offers benefits by keeping temperatures down, which is especially helpful during the summer months.  While much of California suffered through high temperatures last week due to the so-called "heat dome" hovering over our state, it remained cool and comfortable here.  In fact, it's often referred to alternately as nature's air conditioning or a heat shield.

In the garden, it creates a "Twilight Zone" like sense of being cut off from the world around us.

View from my back door yesterday morning looking east

View from the back patio looking northeast

Homes on the other side of the canyon were visible but just barely

View from the front garden looking northwest.  Taking photos during these conditions is often easier and some colors stand out particularly well.

View from the south-side of the garden looking south.  You can see the outline of a neighbor's house down the street if you look very closely.

The marine layer hides a lot.

These shots, taken hours apart from the north-side garden looking northwest, compares the view with the marine layer in full effect (left) versus when it's partially lifted (right).  If you hadn't seen the second shot, you might not have realized that there are hills dotted with homes beyond that palm tree.  Sounds also appear muffled, although that may just be an illusion.

The eeriest aspect of the phenomenon in my opinion is evident when the mist moves in - or out.  It's hard to catch in a photo.

This closeup of Callistemon 'Cane's Hybrid' provides a peek at the shifting mist.  It's like walking through a cloud.

The marine layer is reportedly more pronounced when the La Niña climate pattern is in place.  It's also relatively uncommon in other parts of the world.  Recent studies suggest that climate change may eventually put an end to it.  A 2018 study offered evidence that California's coastal stratus clouds have declined twenty to fifty percent since the 1970s.  A 2019 study undertaken by CalTech showed that increased carbon dioxide in the atmosphere may eventually wipe out those stratus clouds entirely.  (You can find references to both studies here.)  If that happens, it'll probably mean higher temperatures, contributing further to general global warming; plants struggling for moisture due to heightened levels of evaporation, which may not be available due to persistent drought conditions; and an increased number of wildfires.  None of those things is good.

Our current ten-day weather forecast shows continuation of the marine layer at full strength through this Friday, diminishing on Saturday, and disappearing on Sunday, before returning with less vigor during the balance of next week.  The marine layer may deliver mist and even a bit of drizzle but we don't often receive anything in the way of measurable rain from it, although our roof-top weather station shows we collected 0.01/inch of precipitation last week.  Every bit counts.

All material © 2012-2024 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party

A colorful end to the week

After a long stretch of very warm, dry weather, the temperatures fell and the skies finally turned gray on Wednesday.  Although rain had been in the forecast for more than a week, the chances had been gradually scaled back and, when Wednesday morning started out warm with blue skies and low humidity, I was ready to write off the rain forecast entirely.  But by late morning, conditions suddenly shifted.

View of the Port of Los Angeles from my back garden as it began to sprinkle

The clouds looked like an abstract painting

As the rain came down more steadily, I placed the rain chain in a plastic trug to catch what flowed off the east-facing roof.  Other areas of the house and garage roofs directly feed 3 collection tanks but I try hard to capture every drop I can. 

My November Bloom Day post had already been posted when I noticed two more plants with unexpected blooms.

I'd watered the plants in this barrel on Tuesday and noticed no sign of flowers on Hibiscus acetosella 'Haight Ashbury'; however there were a half-dozen or more flowers early the next morning.  The flowers are more attractive than I'd anticipated.

In the street side succulent bed, I also noticed that Aloe lukeana had a bloom stalk.  It was a gift from Gerhard Bock of Succulents and More when he visited in 2021 and this is the first time it's bloomed.

On the north end of the garden the persimmon tree (Diospyros kaki 'Hachiya') was offering another splash of bright color - until it wasn't.

View of the tree early in the week

I caught sight of movement in the tree from inside the house and went to investigate.  One squirrel streaked by as I approached.  The second was initially too busy to care.

He did try to evade my camera, possibly thinking his tail functioned as a cape of invisibility.  Unfortunately, as I approached from one side, he decided I was too close, dropped his prize, and headed over the fence into the neighbor's garden.

I left the soft fruit in the garden for him and his buddies to eat.  I cut 2 persimmons mainly to prevent the squirrels from dropping them onto the Agave ovatifolia below, making a sticky mess.

The persimmon tree has since been cleared of fruit.  2022 was a banner year for both the 'Fuyu' and 'Hachiya' persimmon trees but this year I never saw a single ripe piece of fruit on the 'Fuyu' and I got fewer than two dozen persimmons from the 'Hachiya'.  The squirrels ate or damaged all of them except two I cut during my squirrel encounter.

Blue skies returned Thursday morning.  

The skyline was (mostly) clear of smog for a change

I made good use of the break in the rain on Thursday.  I moved the rainwater I'd collected in plastic trugs to the largest of my three rain tanks.  I spent an hour on our back slope cutting back masses of Centranthus ruber.  While I barely made a dent in the work required down there, at least I got a start on the long-needed cleanup while the fire ants were inactive.  I received my third (and last!) bulb delivery for the season and got a portion of those potted up, and also sifted the homemade compost in one bin and spread it in the front garden.  Whew!

I'd of course forgotten how many bulbs I'd ordered

Another storm is expected to move in late Friday night with light but steady rain through noon on Saturday.  The break on Friday should allow me to get the remaining bulbs planted and, if it's cool enough, more work may get done on the back slope.  I have a mail order plant delivery due to arrive Friday or Saturday but it may be too much to hope that it arrives on the the early end of that window.

I hope you can enjoy some time outside this weekend, whatever your weather conditions.

All material © 2012-2023 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party