Pointers

Back in Madison, Wisco, I one day had the idea of building a fun directional sign as a folly for the bike path behind our house. After some hours of construction in the garage and a secret midnight installation, the sign stands (and still does 5 years later). It points to local landmarks, but also weird places, like the middle of the earth. Other people have since added their own directional pointers. This, I like.

Now, here in Austin, we had a lonely old post in our backyard leftover from the POs that I decided to use to support the grape vine (also left by the POs). Then, it became the perfect place for my native bee box. And then, John and I were brainstorming various ways we could art-it-up a bit, and he came up with reusing the sign idea.

Only this time, it's just us and visitors to the backyard that will see it. Our family and friends are scattered all over this beloved Earth, and it points to those people and places that we love. As a bonus, it serves as a compass, showing us north, south, east and west.

I went for a bit more of a mod design on this version, using Helvetica for the letters and numbers. I tell ya, I really got to understand the construction and design of Helvetica when painting those in. I think I understand every curve, proportion and angle on that font.

Peach Garden Before and After

I stumbled across some old photos of the back garden, which I'm slowing dubbing the Peach Garden, because of the peach tree. It's so fulfilling to see how much its changed after all that labor and love!

The patio and beyond it, the Peach Garden, in March of 2007:

An intermediate, extremely barren, step in April 2007:

We since ditched the square pavers and bricks and opted for the more natural limestone paver path. The patio and Peach Garden in May 2009:

The amount of growth in the southern wax myrtles (at front left) and bay tree (at front right) is really astounding. The cedar fence has faded to a nice gray, too.

Mexican Oregano

Last year, I was complaining about my Mexican oregano plants being scrawny and unhappy. So I followed everyone's advice and trimmed them back pretty hard.

They are looking full and beautiful now. This is one of those plants that everyone should have. It grows really well, forms a nice dense low shrub, has beautiful purple-pink flowers on and off all year, and has both leaves and flowers that can be used in cooking. Really amazing. I think I'll plant 4,000 more in my yard. Yep, 4,000.

There's a little spot on the newish back berm/dry creekbed that is really starting to come along. I transplanted two yellow lantanas from the front, a few volunteer Mexican feathergrass plants, and a Mexican mint marigold (which has a natural fantastic globe shape) to this space. I filled some of the spaces with purple coneflower and black-eyed susans, Rudbeckia hirta 'Irish Eyes' (or maybe 'Green Eyes').

Here's a view looking toward the creek with Digging Pam's yellow-striped agave and a very tiny mandarin orange tree growing in the background.

Here's a view the other direction, looking toward the peach tree and mint garden. From this angle, you can also see the Indigo Spires sage blooming strong. The bees love that stuff.

Yardwork vs. Gardening

I grew up a boy in Suburban America in the 1970s and 80s, which much like the few decades before and since then, meant that I was required to do yardwork. Seas of clipped grass inevitably surrounded our houses, and if I wanted any allowance, one of my chores was getting out there and trimming and shaping that lawn. Of all the chores, I hated mowing the lawn the most. Vacuuming was almost just as bad, but at least it was inside, away from the damp heat of South Carolina and Houston.

Lately, I’ve begun pulling out the reel mower (you know, the old-fashioned, eco-friendly push kind that looks really romantic) to trim down our lawn. The summer season is upon us. Thankfully, we’ve slowly decreased the size of our St. Augustine lawn to two very small patches, one in back and one in front. I also have to pull out the string trimmer to go around those pesky edges.

It still sucks.

Let’s face it, mowing the lawn is one of the crappiest chores that ever existed. And though I try to feel Zen about the push mower and do feel relatively good about not spewing forth carbon dioxide from any place other than the exhale from my lungs, it still sucks.

There is the occasional calming swish swish of the twirling blades, but just when I settle into a groove, that baby gets clogged. By a stick. Or a twig. Or a single damn blade of grass. Ooo, what a pain.

So it has made me think about the psychological difference between "yardwork" and "gardening." Yardwork seems so very Male America, I think, and akin in many ways to “landscaping.” It’s all about lawns, lawns and more lawns. It’s about fertilizing and applying pesticides. Trimming and bagging.

Gardening, on the other hand, implies that one has a more intimate connection with the property. It means nurturing, pruning, weeding, planting, digging, growing and getting down on your knees in the middle of it all to find a praying mantis egg case growing amongst the vines. Gardening is still hard work, arguably more work than yardwork. It pricks me, makes me sweat, gives me sore muscles, and draws out blisters.

But gardening implies connection. Yardwork implies domination.

Thankfully, I come from a family that appreciates the idea of gardening, even though we might have never called it that.

My grandmother on my dad’s side was an amazing gardener with a property in Charlotte, N.C. There she produced enough fresh vegetables and fruit for a small village. She had amazing perennial beds, huge magnolias – the works. And, until moving to Houston, we almost always had a vegetable garden and plenty of perennials skirting around the house. (Still, the lawns dominated. Even at my grandmother's. It was Suburbia after all.)

It's possible that this dichotomy between yardwork and gardening is all a matter of perspective, a difference between being an adult nurturing a property that is my own rather than a child forced to labor for another's (parents included, unfortunately. Hi Mom!). But I do think there is something there, either with the language or just the action of mowing itself. Mowing is generally the one thing that still really feels like a chore to me in my own garden.

I don’t know. Maybe this yardwork versus gardening is an American thing. The English seem pretty happy to call it gardening, and no less macho. It’s a question that will require further thought, or even better, a research trip around the world so that I can better understand gardening across cultures. Anyone got any funding out there?

In the meantime, I’ll curse every time I have to dominate our two small patches of lawn with the mower, and look forward to the day that we’ve just finally removed it all in favor of a garden over a yard.

[Full Disclosure: John has his moments of saintliness, and he generally does the mowing chore instead of me. Thanks babe!]

Waves of Grass

There's a nice article and video today in the NY Times about Maya Lin's new installation, called 'Storm King Waveform,' in the New York mountains. The waves so wonderfully echo the form of the hills behind them, and seem to give the sense of a green ocean lapping at the feet of those same hills. The photo (above) with the fall colors is really nice.

John and I recently watched a documentary, 'Maya Lin: A Strong Clear Vision,' that basically chronicles her entry into the world of landscape art, architecture and design when she won the competition for the Vietnam Memorial in D.C. Fascinating. Her stoicism and commitment - at the tender age of 21 - to her ultimate purpose during the barrage of criticisms hurled at her design is pretty inspiring.

Simple Grilled Pitza

We made a fantastic, simple dinner last night that's perfect for summer dinner: Grilled Pitza.

Here's how you make it.

In Austin, find yourself some pita bread from Phoenicia. There are two stores that I know of, one on North Lamar and one on South Lamar, and they are awesome. However, they carry Phoenicia pitas all over town, from Wheatsville Co-op to Central Market (and maybe HEB). If you aren't in Austin, find yourself some large flat pita bread (do not use that spongy, thick crap that passes for pita in many stores).

Fire up the grill to about 400 degrees.

Spread a little olive oil on one side of the pita (the one that will be face down on the grill). Place whatever toppings you want on your "pitza" and throw it on the grill for 5 to 10 minutes. Watch to make sure it doesn't burn. I put mine on the upper "warming" rack and then finished them off on the bottom, which is pretty hot.

It will get crisp and brown and absolutely delicious. What's even better is that you don't have to heat the whole house up to make it happen. Perfect for summer in Texas!

We made two grilled pitzas last night, a margherita-style and pesto.

Pesto Pizza

I made our first batch of basil-pine nut pesto this week and spread that on the pita. This was topped with artichoke hearts, chopped kalamata olives and jarred sun-dried tomatoes.

Margherita Pizza

For this pitza, we chopped up some canned whole peeled tomatoes (Muir Glen makes a good one), threw on some fresh chopped oregano (growing all over the garden right now) and pre-grated mozzarella (yes, buffalo mozz would be awesome, but we didn't have any). After we pulled the crispy pitza off the grill, we sprinkled it with this fresh picked micro-basil.

This is a new basil I bought this year at Sunshine Community Gardens called Spicy Bush Basil. I love the super tiny leaves. The larger leafed Italian basil that I used for the pesto is in the background.

Serve these pitzas up with a fresh salad and a glass of red wine, and it's the perfect summer meal. It's these kinds of dinners that make me wonder why I ever go out to eat!

And speaking of summer, it's pretty much here folks. 95 degrees and rising! I just pulled my first couple of red juicy tomatoes off the vine...

A Room with a View

John and I are both really into being outside, and pretty much spend all possible time out there. We might be drinking cocktails on the patio, pulling weeds, or reading...All things are better outside (until the mosquitoes arrive).

But still, the yard is often experienced from inside the house, which I think is the case for many many people. Our house is full of old casement windows (sometimes it feels like a fish bowl), so we get tons of light and occasional views of the garden.

I say occasional, because unlike many houses, the living room/family room/den part of our ranch house is located in the front. We don't have a connection between our living space and the backyard - no French doors leading to a deck or patio.

But I think it's important to think about what the garden looks like from various spots in the house, since it is so often experienced in that way.

Here's a view of the back patio from the kitchen sink:

The desert willow just on the other side of the window is in full bloom. It will be nice when this tree has grown enough to shade the kitchen a bit from the hot afternoon sun. The view from one of the bedroom windows:

The wooden screen covers the tankless water heater, but also provides a nice pattern to look at from the bedroom. There's a rosemary plant right in the center that is starting to grow quite well. It'd be great if someday the sun releases it's scent and it wafts into the bedroom through the open window.

This bedroom window (the view from the bed) frames the cozy red Adirondack chairs out on the patio, inviting me out of bed in the morning to sip tea and listen to the birds (um, mostly grackles, actually, but I've recently spotted golden cheeked warblers, a yellow warbler, cedar waxwings, painted buntings, northern orioles, and more...).

The view from the living room of the front yard is a little less refined, in my mind:

The front yard is still that place that I haven't quite figured out. It'll come to me someday. Until then, I love to laze on the couch, gaze out the window, and dream of future front gardens...

p.s. The photo at the top of this post of the winecups is not a view from inside the house. It's to remind me that these plants are beautiful and hardy and should be planted more around the garden.