Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Naked Ladies Kiss Me Over The Garden Gate

I feel like a student in Professor Snape's Potions class.

This morning I had a landscape artist come out to evaluate our new back yard. I'm normally quite handy with a trowel and trusty weeder, but in this back yard I'm pretty stuck. The first thing the landscaper said was, "Oh my dear, you don't have a back yard with a tree. You have a tree for your back yard." She's not kidding. Apparently this Silver Maple of ours is very very old. The bad news is they also have a relatively short life span compared to say an Elm. We also have a wild Mulberry tree which I thought was a kind of Oak. See? Mulberry tree, not Mulberry bush. Goes to show you what I know about this yard and how ill informed those nursery rhymes are.

The whole reason I had this person come out was to evaluate if they could till the soil for us to seed grass specific to shady areas. Not so much. Maples are also fastidious in their root structure by spreading out and only goes 2 - 3 feet deep. No tilling for us. Because the root structure is so close to the top it will leach all nutrients and water so this explains why our grass looks the way it does: clumps sparsely dispersed in clay dirt. Awesome. Her solution was to just put mulch down. This sounds like a terrible idea to me. A brown yard? Well, I guess that's what we have now so perhaps its not that bad of an alternative. The only prayer we have of doing grass is just putting top soil down - a lot of top soil - and seeding it with fescue, not rye. I learned more about grass root structure today than I thought I would ever learn. Rye is the main grass of all that sod people use. Fescue doesn't have a matrix root system. It's just one solitary blade per seed.

As I was getting more and more dejected about our options for the yard, the landscaper picked up on my mood and went to the truck to get her encyclopedias of botanical species. I was highly relieved to learn that my options were more than just hostas and ferns. Our conversation went something like this:

"So the horny toadalis is fantastic with it's feathery plumes, that is unless you want to get the limnanthus sacquaguia, otherwise known as Puffy Faces. As you can see it's broad leaf structure would be a nice contrast to the Mugwort with it's variegated leaf. I would steer clear of the hemlock, besides it's not indigenous to this area."

"What about this pretty purple flower?" I said pointing to the day lily looking bloom.

"Oh no, dear! Climaxius Epictus, or Man's Folly, will not grow in climate zone 5, which as you know we are right on the border of 4 and 5. But this lovely Witches Death would suit that corner nicely with fall blooms or the Snake Weed. I might consider planting the Japanese Blood Grass over there but it needs moist soil so perhaps the Viking Ship Heucharella. That one is a native plant. "

"What about hydrangeas? My husband loves the purple flowers."

The landscaper scrunches up her face to show her disgust. "If I see anymore of that Russian Sage and bourgeois yellow day lily I will just scream. Those hydrangeas were all the rage years ago. A burning bush might be a good alternative."

I'm guessing that is a solid "No" from her on the hydrangeas.

"But there's no accounting for taste, I suppose. Now these would be lovely by the rocks." She said pointing to a familiar plant on the page.

"Oh! You mean Lady in the Bathtubs!"

Double blink through her spectacles and pinching the bridge of her nose. "Why would you call Bleeding Hearts, 'Lady in the Bathtubs?'"

"Because my grandmother grew them and if you pick off the blossom, turn it upside down and open it slightly it looks like a Victorian woman in a bathtub."

"Haven't tried that. And look at all these Rhododendrons in your yard! I'm surprised they've lasted this long with such an alkaline soil. Comes from the limestone. You must use quick lime once a year to keep them happy. My goodness, you can see these people had no idea about plants putting this peony in the shady corner. It is most certainly unhappy. And we must trim back these yews. Why on earth they would plant these here? I should also mention that we need to get a jump on this otherwise we'll have to wait until the last hard freeze of winter. That typically is May 15th."

Excuse me? May 15th? Did she really just say "hard frost" "typical" and "May 15th" in one sentence? Oh. My. God. How am I going to survive winter?

The conversation went on for 2 hours for a 20 x 20 space and I'm being generous with those measurements. Some of the names of these plants were absolutely ridiculous. Inky Fingers? Red Hot Poker? Scotch Broom? Love Lies Bleeding? Naked Ladies? Kiss Me Over The Garden Gate? Digitalis - otherwise known to me as the main ingredient for heart medication. Witch Hazel - which grows in the shade by the way. I vetoed the Hemlock for the record. Murphy, our second Scottie, ate some wild Hemlock and hallucinated. He landed in the doggy hospital overnight while his psychedelic trip wore off. One of my big requirements for the yard is nothing can be poisonous. I'm also against prickly plants.

In the middle of all this the movers show up to remove all of our boxes and packing material for a small fee, of course. They were exceptionally early. It took them about 10 minutes to remove the remnants of our two months of unpacking. As I drew up the check, the movers and landscape artist were in a battle about what to do with the mulberry tree.

"My wife makes jam with the mulberries."

"The berries also make a lovely wine, that is if you can get the berries before the birds. However, this one is a volunteer."

"Volunteer?" Man, am I glad the mover asked this question.

"Yes, it was a noxious weed that they let grow. However, it's not thriving and nor should it being in so much shade. Best to rid the yard of it before it becomes a larger problem."

"I'd rather have the wine than the jam, personally." Said the mover.

As for me and the rest of my morning, I've had 3 phone calls from the company for follow up and the landscaper came back for a second look at the Maple.

"They're notorious for dropping branches, these Silver Maples."

No kidding. I could have told you that looking at all of the limbs scattered across the yard from Sunday's storm. Rocket science.

"You need to call the tree people and point out the missing bark on the underside of that limb. Could be a bad sign that might call for the tree to come down which would be thousands upon thousands of dollars. Besides, it would alter my design plans then with more sun in the yard. Yes, yes, you need to call the tree people." And with that she handed me a sticky note with a name and phone number.

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