Don't Know, Don't Care

During our morning walk, big Akita guy and I noticed a tiny brown Chihuahua scurry across the street and disappear down a driveway. We peeked, couldn't see the little guy, hoped he found his way home, and moved on. Nearly an hour later, we noticed him again. Instead of looking like he was home, he looked cold and unhappy, so chancing upon another dog-walking neighbor who lived across the street from the escapee in question, I asked if she knew where he belonged. No luck. Hoping to lure the little guy toward me, I tied the scary big dog to a nearby fence and set about trying to dog whisper - which, in spite of my avid love for all things scaled, feathered and furred - I'm not very successful with. Little guy scurried around a hedge into the adjacent driveway. Just as I'm about to follow, a woman comes out of her house. Relieved, I ask, "Oh, is that your little tan Chihuahua?" and her response completely floored me. "Don't know, don't care. This is my property and I don't like people on it." Yes, I was trespassing by being two feet down her driveway. OK, I was just hoping to help the little dog.... Again the response, "Don't know, don't care." Well thanks, you're a lovely person.

Turns out, she admits she does know the dog and knows the dog lives next door. Great, sez I, and proceed to knock on the door. No answer. I leave. The whole time she berating me for being nosy and I couldn't understand what else her tirade was about. So in the interests of thought experiments, here's mine:

It's Christmas eve, and everyone else I met on the walk was cheerful and wished us well. Maybe her Christmas is going poorly and she was feeling super cranky.

She sees me everyday walking my dog past her house and her two dogs who like to hang out in the window and bark at us. I always say hello to the dogs to acknowledge them and she's decided we make her feel guilty she never walks her dogs further than her front yard to do their business.

Maybe she is having issues with her neighbor and the dog and decided to take it out on me. 

Maybe she's just batshit crazy. Merry Christmas and ho ho ho.

Cold Weather Heats Up the Imagination

For SoCal it's cold, though normal people don't find this daunting, of late, I do. So, if it isn't conducive weather for having hands in ice cold water getting labels off bottles or puttering in the garden, the next best thing is getting ideas for future projects. There's still a good deal of tile work to accomplish and it's always nice to curl up with a good book or a computer for ideas. The side stoop and back porch need doing/finishing. This is what the front porch looks like:

For the back and side, it seems something less formal is in order and a day spent with pictures is a good way to start. While in Japan, I noticed the train station had the most amazing mosaic wall. It'd be fun to design a sun motif and use the asymmetry to good effect. On the other hand, as the sidewalk brickwork shows below, geometrics can look amazing too. Decisions, decisions. 

Pinterest and Other Addictions

I realized the other day that I have a serious addiction. Whether Pinterest found me or the other way around, is not certain. No one can accuse me of being an early adopter for things Internet, though I do try to stay informed of the latest apps, social media sites and all the wailing that surrounds them. In the main, however, mostly I try out what I think is of practical use and pretty much ignore the rest. And then came Pinterest. As the person responsible for my work's social media, I've made a fair stab at Facebook, Twitter and blogging. All pretty straightforward.When it was suggested we open a Pinterest account, I groaned at the idea of more work. Even though I was happy enough strolling through the site for program or craft ideas, it really didn't grab my attention away from the all the other things that called out for immediate action. 

And then, it seduced me. I was looking for a mortar recipe for cementing wine bottles through Google's image search (who here doesn't start out that way?). Those searches kept linking me to Pinterest, and that kept linking me to other Pinterst boards or pins or whatever the heck they're called. As I descended further down the rabbit hole, I told myself what all addicts say, "I can quit at any time." And that must be true - though quitting is not on the list for today. The siren song of flitting from one image to another in rapid succession is just too strong. Discovering another blog of like-minded eco-nuts is simply too tempting. So I set limits: "Only 10 minutes at lunch. " I mutter. "No more than 1/2 an hour after work," I exclaim. And, like most addicts, those limits get blown.

Well, it could be worse I suppose. I could also be addicted to taking pictures of gardens all the time. 

Whoops! Yes - more pictures of gardens.

The garden is still very raw as it is newly planted, but the 2 tortoises with the wind vane as the
centerpiece of this front yard was just to good to ignore.

Did I mention I'm a sucker for shiny cobalt blue?

Too bad they aren't ready to pull up the lawn yet,
but making the wonderful border reduces overspray
to almost zero.

This charmer with one ear is the only cat I can keep at my house. He keeps an eye on the front door for us.

And, just in case you're wondering, we still don't have a Pinterest account at work. If we did, I'd never get anything else done all day and that would be very bad. Mmmm....

Successes

It seems I'm usually writing about projects in progress or projects in my dreams. Well, there are finished bits around the yard, so don't think I'm simply incapable of finishing anything. Though --- truth to tell, there is always the prospect of endless tweaking - a little detail here - a bit added or removed over there. Though friends kindly refer to my work mode as "organic," Attention Deficit Disorder would probably be more accurately descriptive.

So let's look at some successes. I did manage to get the pile of broken concrete sorted and installed by the edge of the footpath, along with a large portion of the brick pile. With dollops of black river rock in between the pavers, it's a successful start. The challenge is to figure out what to do with the rest of what I've got. The biggest concern is the curve in the footpath (not shown) as that happens to fall at a critical section that needs to be sturdy enough for the yard waste bin rolling over it. No doubt something will come to me...I just hope it doesn't take another ten years to materialize.

Many people walking by comment on my side yard, which is set up for the local critters to enjoy. Years ago, what little lawn remained was torn out and mulched with free, I repeat, free, wood chip mulch from the tree company. They are only too happy to dump their chips at your house rather than pay to dump them. Anyhow, the side yard is our buffer to a busy street. Since it is somewhat private because of the large hedge, squirrels, banded pigeons, crows, songbirds, doves, the odd coyote or two, and any other critter who happens to need water, nuts or seed is welcome. The bed frame was hanging out in our back yard for a long time. It seemed so obvious that it needed to be a vegetable bed (get it?) that it was put together in one day. The joke is that nary a vegetable has yet to grow there. Maybe this coming year? The table at the foot of the bed was also hanging out unproductively in the back yard, so naturally it was pressed into service to complete the vignette.

It seems that just when I need something, I manage to find it on the street waiting for trash pick up. The bird feeder is hanging from a birdcage stand someone was throwing away. The bird bath is on a discarded plant stand and the pot with seed in it is on a stray garden stool. Seriously, if you're into recycling at all, just walk a dog around your neighborhood and you'll find the most amazing things to work with. 

The banded pigeon is one of my favorite visitors and I've noticed some amazing things about them. At first we only had the one and unlike the garden variety city pigeon, they are very large and heavy. After a few weeks, more of them came and now we have 20 - 30 at a time. One arrives first and scopes out the place. Then, as if they all got a text that it was safe, the others come in looking like a B-52 bomber squadron. They are so heavy you can almost hear the Crape Myrtle groan as they land on its delicate branches. They hold their own against cheeky squirrels and commanding crows. It all makes for happy viewing out the kitchen window. Frankly, it's more uplifting than the morning news and makes a great start to the day. That and coffee.

So there are a few of the successes that will still get tweaked and fussed with, but are really done and everything is working. At least the critter population is happy.

Adding Width to the Footpath

Now that tearing out the lawn is completed, the next step in the front yard project of a thousand years (it certainly feels like it's taking that long), is to widen the existing footpath. The jades which were planted too close to the path overhang it by quite a bit and constantly cutting them back actually does pretty much nothing to gain space. So before the architectural piece I keep mentioning but never seem to get to, is installed, a wider walkway needs to be created out of bits and bobs of leftover rock and bricks. If nothing else, we need to be able to get the yard waste bin out to the street and back without damaging too much greenery.

I believe I mentioned in a previous post that a neighbor who was moving out was happy to give me the broken concrete from his driveway and I still have bricks left over from another free neighbor score. Whether they will be enough for what I need is the big question mark in all this, though even if not, there is so much stuff about the place in various piles, there's bound to be something that is both practical for the purpose, and whimsical in the application.

The trick is to somehow link these otherwise different materials into a cohesive looking whole - patchworking them so they look like a plan and not merely a hodgepodge. The plan will ultimately involve some sort of steppable ground cover, but that kind of planting is best done in January/February and not what Southern Californians consider the depths of a brutal winter (all of 41°F at night). I know - we're total wimps. 

Speaking of ground covers, the Dymondia is still hanging in there and though the cold certainly isn't helping things, if it hasn't gone totally belly up by now, there may be a remote chance it will grow and be prosperous. On this score I am keeping both fingers and toes crossed. The squirrels appear to have lost interest in it as well, which certainly improves the chance of survival. Not finding little excavations for nut storage is a good thing. 

Flying Dog Hair and Other Tales of Horror

Imagine, if you will, a fluffy Shih Tzu with a deceptively cute face. Imagine also that in the grief of having lost a beloved four-legged member of the family, you decide to adopt another canine to share love and life with. In fact, you go one step further and adopt the fluffy Shih Tzu's bosom buddy at the rescue group, a Lhasa Apso. The Lhasa was severely abused, so you know to be calm and gentle around him; the Shih Tzu seems calm to the point of lethargy. She has pneumonia you soon realize. Three vet trips later, she's cured and is ready to show you her true personality. And thus we realized that demon spawn in dog suits had managed to insinuate themselves into our home.

Even with my experience with animals of all kinds, I felt an expert was necessary to sort out the myriad behavior problems these two beasties managed to bundle into their little bodies. We hired an animal behaviorist/trainer to work with us and then spent almost 8 months undoing the trauma of that. And now, 9 years later, we STILL have 2 unruly dogs that seduce people with cuteness and drive us to distraction. Today was no different.

We try to keep up with their grooming at home because the idea of a lawsuit from a professional groomer doesn't appeal. So today was the foray into Phase 1 of the let's-get-the-worst-of-the-muck-and-matted-hair-off process. This involves taking one reluctant critter to the outdoor sink area and hoping you both come back alive. My little ones have absolutely mastered the art of passive resistance. Gandhi, if he were still around, could take lessons from them. The first maneuver is to lie down like a boulder and not budge. This doesn't have quite the effect they desire in that you can still get to trim the face, neck and ears and the top. So far so good. There is squirming, sure, but manageable.  But now comes the hard part. You need to get the hind end. You coax her up. You start to lift the tail. The bottom drops to the table. She does a double twist which somehow has the wrong end in your direction. How did that even happen? You try to roll her over. Again a double twist and she's flat on the table again. Out come the cookies to cajole her into cooperating. She snags the cookie and wiggles out of position before you can even get the scissors ready. This goes on for about 10 minutes with a sneak snip here and there, until the big handsome Akita (whom you've met), comes bounding out to tell some hapless dog off for having the temerity to pass by his yard. Since Ms. Shih Tzu is the big guy's sworn enemy, she takes umbrage and immediately and suicidally wants to jump from the high sink and go after him. Meanwhile, hair is flying, scissors go skittering so you can grab her from her own foolhardiness, and you realize the better part of valor is to call it quits for now. Round 2 will have to wait until after lunch and a nap. 

Finished at Last, Finished at Last - Almost

I thought the last corner of the front yard was going to defeat me. It certainly set out to. The thatch was a snarled tangle of devilish tendrils deeper than any other patch. I got enough rocks out of the soil to cover a 2 square foot area an inch deep (finished off the top dressing of a Bird of Paradise nicely). The ground was harder than any other section and for some reason the slight breeze wafted the dust up into my eyes - no matter which side I chose to attack from. With hips and legs creaking and aching, all I wanted to do was hang up the tools for the day and walk away. I was also determined to finish before the reported rain for today. Rain was part of the grand scheme to get the soil workable for the next step. If that last pesky section wasn't done, then the next phase would be held up. So kneeling and pounding away, just as the last rays of the sun dimmed, I stood in triumph. Done at last! Well...except for the little bit I missed in the middle. But the little bit is not essential to the grand scheme for the architectural piece, so I'm calling it done. Yes, I'll go back to the the other one of these days. 

Information sheet on the ground cover - click to enlarge

Now lest one think this past week of no posting has been idle, I will report that a generous neighbor, who was taking out big sections of her ground cover, Dymondia margaretae, offered what she dug up. The last time she offered, I dutifully planted (about a week later) and the squirrels liked it for nut storage. Not surprisingly, it didn't take kindly to being left in a bag too long, planted in large clumps and then being harassed by squirrels. Yes, it died off. So this time, pick-up was prompt, the next afternoon spent on hands and knees made a nice border around the bottle border and a rock grouping along the walkway to the front door, and all was well. Neighbors and dog walkers commented - nicely - on the new addition. And for one entire day, it did look fah-bu-lous dahling. And then the temperature dropped. And some critter (I'm gonna go with squirrel) found a section in a corner to dig up. I refuse to give up hope, however. Though this is NOT the right time of year to plant, and my squirrels are a rowdy bunch, I will continue to plead and cajole to make it grow. Frankly, as of today, it looks a bit like a pig's breakfast, but if it can just hold on for the next two months, the temperatures will return to balmy in the evenings, and some of it may take off, be fruitful and multiply. 

Murphy's Law and Other Insights

Murphy had many laws - the most famous of which is, "If something can go wrong, it will." In my case it's more like, "If something can take far longer than it should, it will." So my grand plan of installing the - I hesitate to say art piece - main attraction in the front yard by the end of my vacation is one of those Murphy's law things. Then again, it's frustrating when there are so many projects beckoning, and one wants so badly to finish them. Many good things were accomplished, so that's satisfying, but it would have been better to get a few more items completely ticked off the old TO DO list. The other thing is my version of ADHD. As I walk around the (very extended) neighborhood, I can't help but get excited by some new garden plan or decoration. Having just discovered Pinterest, that also make for more distractions from actually working. Now, realizing that some projects were false starts and having to back-track wasted a bit of time, I don't count that as slacking off. After all, how do you know if you don't try? 

Found another couple of gardens and garden elements I really like. 

This home was mostly boring lawn and then there were these little areas that had cute vignettes. 

The next garden is almost Japanese in feel with slight terracing and plants that  have simple architectural shapes.

The last pictures are my solution to a very boring cracked footpath leading to the house. I didn't like the straight shot to the steps and wanted a sexier curve. I also wanted to use up some stray paving stones, brick and rocks I had managed to scavenge - legally and with permission from owners people. Keep it nice.

Halloween in the Neighborhood

I'm not a huge fan of holidays in general (being cranky and all) and Halloween is probably my least favorite. One far neighbor got it so right, however, I'm tempted to re-think the whole tradition of Halloween decorations. While most people focus on spiders (not scary at all) or some foam gravestones or ghosts made from sheets (again - ho hum), this neighbor went to a primal source of real terror. She chose clowns. Not only is her attention to gory detail incredible, it was really funny to see how our dogs reacted. My timid little Lhasa was so freaked he almost had to be carried away. The terminator Shih-Tzu went into full combat attack mode (handy if we ever do have the zombie apocalypse). And the giant Akita mix? Totally unimpressed, thank you very much. Well hats off to you, imaginative, very industrious neighbor. Or should I say, heads off to you.

Do click on the pictures to see all the detail. So worth it.

Some You Win, Some You Lose

Yesterday was a whirlwind of washing and cutting more bottles, because I had a notion - 2 really - to do something fun. I thought to replace a brick border with various sizes of wine bottles and create our initials in bottles in another area. Since these notions came in a dream at nap time, it had to be very clever right? Well....

The replacement for the brick border (and thank goodness I chose a very short area to experiment in) was a disaster. Not only were the bottles too wonky, but the soil in that area is so rocky and full of clay, the bottles didn't want to screw in firmly. After struggling for almost an hour, I gave up and returned the brick border.

As for the initials  - well, nap time dreams will be treated with great skepticism in future. It wasn't all a washout though. I did come up with another idea that may just work and still look very arty.

The beer bottle border around the one flower bed did come out nicely once completed, and that made the whole day worth it.

Though things still look very raw, after three hours of whacking away at the thatch area on the other side of the yard, things are proceeding. Never as fast as I'd like, of course, but proceeding. Only one week left for vacation and still so much to do. Yikes!

99 (and counting) Bottles of Beer in the Yard

I was one bottle short from finishing my first beer bottle border today. One bottle! Given the rest of the projects being tackled, that's actually a win. So here's what goes into what looks like a quick and easy project. Now, I've read other blogs that describe just digging a deep enough trench to use the bottle whole, but I wanted to cut the bottles so I could sink them into the dirt for a tighter hold. And that makes for some extra steps. 

The washing is a two step process (described in a previous post) and I'm lucky that the cutting is by wet saw and not a manual bottle cutter or I would still be on the first couple of bottles. So if you are lucky enough to have a wet saw -  usually used for cutting tile - get a good glass blade and go to town. While cutting the bottles, I didn't worry too much about a few chips on the rim of the bottle. After all, the bottles are being screwed down into the dirt, so they are of no danger to anyone. But there are safety issues for doing the cutting.

First the equipment. I wear a face mask (don't want to breathe in glass dust), a full face protector, a designated sweatshirt with tight long sleeves, and gloves. Oh, and let's not forget the ear protection. On a hot day it can get nasty, but getting glass shards in your skin, eyes or lungs is a BIG no-no and far nastier than a little sweat. 

Something else I discovered by accident has turned out to be a real help. The necks of the bottles obviously aren't flush to the saw table. And if you try to saw the bottle that way, it can chatter at the end of the cut, creating more and bigger chips. When I saw my disused foam kneeling pad in the garage it turned out it's exactly right for supporting the necks of the bottles. The foam also eliminates chatter. 

Getting the bottles into the ground was the fun and easy part. I originally was thinking of a single line, but as with my wooden fence top border, turns out two layers is the magic number. Gives it more presence and stability. 

The big reveal will come when part 2 of the project is complete. But here's a preview:

Asking Dogs to Read Your Mind Never Goes Well

If you don't care about dogs, by all means skip this post. This is my crank rant:

There are two women who walk their dogs regularly around the neighborhood so we cross paths from time to time. One has a superb Springer Spaniel (a rare sighting in our neck of the woods) and the other has some sort of Border Collie mix (total guess here). And both of them have the exact same idea about how to get their dogs to do what they want them to do - which is to say they both haven't a clue about dog training or behavior. 

Springer Spaniel lady (SS for short) was walking her dog by the fence the other day and my Akita mix likes to take exception to those effronteries by growling and barking. We're working on getting him to stop after he briefly, though gruffly, says hello to passersby. No more than three barks and we're done. Well that's the theory on our end anyway. That day I was too far away to get to him in time to remind him to stop growling and I heard very distressed yipping coming from the other side of the fence. Thinking a dog was in trouble, I ran out in my jammies to take a look (not a pretty sight for passing motorists, but what the hell). SS lady was smacking her dog on the head and nose (!) to get him to stop yipping in response to my dog and kept yelling NO! 

And here were her 3 mistakes: 

1.  She honestly thought she should have a dog in the first place.

2.  She wouldn't tell her dog what TO do so the poor thing was expected to read her mind.

3.  She wouldn't bloody move on, prolonging anxiety in both dogs. 

So I called out - "Is everything OK?" to which she gave me the stink eye. I then called out, "Perhaps it would be best if you moved on," to which she gave me the evil eye. So then, throwing out all my customer service training (I'm on vacation doggone it), I said harshly - "Move on and quit abusing your dog." to which she said something uncomplimentary in response, but quit hitting her dog.

Today was Border Collie lady day (BC for short). Now her beautiful dog is very young and still gets hyper-distracted on walks. Upon viewing us, the dog naturally wanted to challenge my big baby to a duel, or at a least a meet and greet, and got excited and jumped and yipped. BC swung into action. She pulled up sort on the leash yelling NO! Then, standing behind the dog, yelled Sit. Now, even well-trained dogs need to know you are talking to them, so it helps to have their attention when giving commands. Her poor baby's attention was definitely on us and not BC. Finally the dog just sat out of sheer luck and she's still tugging on the leash and trying to strangle him so I called to the dog, "Sit. What a good sit. What a good job," and the dog is beginning to relax while BC is shooting daggers at me. I am walking on the entire time to minimize tension. At no time does BC try to reward her dog for doing what it was told to do, or give the dog another command so they could walk on. She just froze there, sending hate waves my way, and nearly falling off her ridiculous shoes. 

It makes me so sad to see animals who are just doing what they do naturally and want to please, but have idiots for guardians who don't even bother to find out what they need to do. Sigh.

Finding Inspiration - A.K.A. Stealing Ideas

Walking dogs around the neighborhood is a great cover for lifting ideas from unsuspecting neighbors who have better yards than mine. I already mentioned that I wasn't too fond of the jumbled native garden look, but there are gardens that combine things well. Sometimes, one element in a design provides the perfect jumping off point for something you can tweak and make your own. With that in mind, I snapped some shots of gardens that inspire in at least one way.

One house on the street has a very attractive garden to which they've added some river pebbles as a decorative element. There is a definite plan to the landscaping, taking into account height and color of various plants. The same pine needles which plague my yard present the problem of wanting to bury the stones, so there is the yearly clean-up effort to bring back that element of design. It is only more or less successful. 

My favorite yard on the block is one with a dry riverbed to give the yard an open feel, and the plants are artfully arranged with height and color in mind. Their front yard is roughly 1/2 size of mine and is more confined and so it works very well. As time passes and the pine needles go about their quiet work, we'll see how it all holds up. So far though, with the drip irrigation and drought tolerant appeal, it's the best on the block.

Down another street, one lined with trees which are not deadly to lawns, one house stands out. The bird bath provides a nice focal point and the steppable ground cover around recycled paving stones gives an open feel among the bushes and grasses selected for their appeal to birds and butterflies. Alas, my picture doesn't do justice to the calm appeal of this garden.

Discovered on one of the longer dog walks which took us out of our normal circuit entirely, a small front garden works for sheer whimsey alone. I'm a sucker for anything in cobalt blue, so stumbling on these cute giraffes and other small treats scattered throughout the succulents and cacti made the walk. The theme is so complete and so magical it can't help but make you smile. 

The takeaway from these excursions is not to copy exactly, but to sample - thus avoiding any serious copyright or plagiarism accusations - though, it is said imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Chief Bottle Washer

Today dawned more like the October weather SoCal is famous for - warm but not too hot, a bit drier, and fresher smelling. In other words - bearable for heavy-duty landscaping projects. And I just wasn't in the mood. After a long walk with the dog, and a short visit with the 15 year old tortoise who lives with three dogs, I was pooped. And yet vacation time must not be squandered, so I had to pick something from the to do list and work on it. 

I chose to clean some bottles. Now to be clear, these wine, beer, whiskey bottles and miscellaneous jars have been awaiting attention for about 3 years now. They have been heaped in the back yard, vaguely sorted by color, and need their labels removed. Wind, sun and rain have made a good start, but for the projects I have in mind, they need to be clean of goo and paper. Two large tub trugs did the trick. One held hot water, a squish of Dawn dish soap, and around a 1/4 cup of washing soda. Bottles go in and soak. The other tub held rain water from a rain barrel for rinsing. 

Wouldn't life be grand if it were that easy. Using a scraper, a scratchy sponge, my fingernails and a few choice curse words, I got two loads done. Which was a good start and not even near enough to do a small corner. As I was beavering away at the labels, one fact became very clear. Not all bottle labels are created equal. Those that sport good old-fashioned paper labels clean up very nicely; those that have the new-fangled clear plastic labels don't clean up well at all.
TIP: for projects requiring pristine glass bottles - stick to paper labels. Heineken may or may not be good beer, but the labels don't come off cleanly or without a fight. It takes Goo Gone or some other obnoxious fluid. Not cool.

Does that mean the other bottles can't used? Of course not. It just means they have to be put in projects where labels or residue won't show and won't matter. 

The next step is to start cutting the bottles so they can be used for a border. Fortunately, I already have a tile wet saw and don't have to rely on a manual bottle cutter. Another couple loads of label removal and cutting can start.

Half the lawn is done and gone

Today saw the completion of the half of the lawn that remained somewhat green. Done. Finis. Loose soil awaiting some inspirational something and I still don't have a clue.

So on to the pure thatch and rocky dirt like concrete. The side that will host the architectural piece I mentioned before. With a determined gleam in my eye, I took bucket, kneeling pad, gloves and my handy tool to begin. That lasted all of half an hour. Mind you, I had been slugging it out with the other side of the lawn for over 2 hours. So I was already pretty tired. But still. And the worst part is - it looks done from a distance. My other excuse for not going as quickly as I'd like is that both yard waste bins will have so much stuff in them, they'll be too heavy to move in another day. Yeah, that's the story. 

And now on to my cranky rant. We're in a drought people! Watering your lawn TWICE a day, EVERY day, is not only not allowed by the City/County/State, but it's not allowed by any thinking person in a major drought. So yes, I called the Water Hotline to report said malfeasance for the third time. (Told you - cranky little old lady). Now I understand that the first visit is educational, and the second visit may be more of the same, but by the third time, I'm thinking they should be made to tear out a neighbor's former lawn that is currently pure thatch in rocky concrete-like soil. That'll teach 'em.

Mow, Blow and Go...Away

OK - let's start with the crank rant right off the bat. After all, this isn't the Cranky Little Old Lady blog for nothing. 

This morning, as most mornings start, I head out with my gorgeous Akita mix, whose floppy ear simply keeps him from being too handsome, to go for our usual walk. Only THIS morning is mow, blow and go day in the neighborhood. Dust, smoke and belching, stinking fumes from blowers and mowers. Nary a rake in sight. Since many of the lawns (though there are still some lawn holdouts),  have either been converted to native gardens or scraggly patches of dirt, the blowers do nothing more than create a miasma of polluted air. While I understand the economics of this dreadful gardening practice, I am all too cognizant of the greater repercussions to respiratory health and damage to the climate. Two-stroke engines, great in an emergency when no electricity is available, are an environmental nightmare. As I stood and chatted with a neighbor over the whine of motors, we spoke of potentials for ordinances to outlaw blowers and realized we were falling into the "there oughta be a law" trap and no-win proposition. So we do what we do every week - slam shut windows and doors (in this heat!) and wait for it all to blow over....

But now on to the best part of the day. I have been using my favorite hand tool to take out what's left of my front lawn and the horrible thatch from dead St. Augustine grass.

 It's painstaking work and one could reasonably wonder why I don't just hire a couple of burly guys with pick axes or a rototiller. There is something so satisfying about working every inch and feeling the quality of the soil. It's also gentler on the tree roots of the grand Deodar Cedars which line our street. While I've made good progress (I assure myself), there is still the entire other half of the front yard to go. Pure thatch and no green. The hand tool is sort of a hybrid of a pick axe and rake. It's perfectly balanced and useful in multiple ways. They make great gifts by the way. (No, no kickbacks here). Every neighbor who's received one is very protective of them. I've had this one for 15 years. 

The goal is to install an architectural piece in the yard in the next 2 weeks - which will be truly a miracle if it happens. All I'll say at this moment is that the installation involves brick, a part of a Rose Parade float, and lots of wine and beer bottles. In answer to your unspoken question - the bottles are from neighbors. No, truly. 

I still haven't a clue what to do with the part I'm currently digging up. I keep hoping to have an Eureka! moment, but so far, just a sore neck and dirty fingernails. All I know is, I don't want a native garden that looks - well - native. While I appreciate the artistry of the natural-grow-in-a-jumble look, I prefer a cleaner, more architectural setting. More Japanese if you will. But how that will be achieved under trees that shed needles all year round and have no respect for fine gardening, is the question. 

First Thoughts

It's become a case of retirement looking better every day. Work, which was very satisfying and rewarding in multiple ways, has become increasingly intolerable. Which is not uncommon when new management sweeps in and immediately starts to fix things that aren't broken. Admittedly, my impatience with those who wish to have the benefits and privileges of being professionals without the corresponding effort (like work) has started to pall. Big time. So here I am, cranky and figuring out how to disengage and very much looking forward to attending to my small house and large property in drought-stricken SoCal. Spending the day with my partner-in-crime, my dogs, and wild critters I've managed to attract with food and, more critically, water. Having the time to try and realize my vision, such as it is, for making an oasis on an otherwise unassuming block in an unassuming neighborhood. 

When we moved to SoCal, it was like moving to a different country after spending so many years in San Francisco. The climate wasn't the only change. It was City to suburbs, walking everywhere or taking a bus to driving everywhere. From small apartment in a vibrant neighborhood to broken down house on a large lot. At the time it was a great adventure and the sad property only meant scope for restoration and loving creativity. While it is still an adventure, it's harder to achieve as age takes it's toll with breaking down bodies and loss of income. And so it begins as my adulthood began - trying to get along on next to nothing and doing it as artistically and gracefully as possible. My lifelong ambition of leaving a light footprint on the earth is even more important now. Up-cycling, recycling, repurposing and reusing are paramount. Let's see how well we can do as we move forward.

From lawn required by the City to.....

Tearing out the lawn encouraged by the County