My sonny Chris and my delightful daughter-in-law Susan warned during their birthday call to me that a "big box" would show up on our doorstep sometime in late June...IT DID!
It is a huge resin planter, self watering with a BASKET WEAVE look, on legs.
My under-gardener wants to put in a special word of "thanks," as he got the job of moving it around in the yard several times before I settled on the right spot.
"OH COME ON, IT'S NOT THAT HEAVY!" I said.
I picked a spot where I've struggled to make anything look good... the slope to the southwest, almost to the very end of my garden. Nothing seemed to work there. It's under the shade of the big silver maple tree so I had a few pots of ferns propped up on rocks.
Now the legs of the planter elevate the foliage so the eye looks up, not down at the slope. In other words, it disguises the slope nicely!
"PERFECT!" I said. Don't you just love instant gratification!
We did have to use a board at the back to shore it up so the legs wouldn't sink into the gravel.
So here it is kitted out with ferns in my own special "fern grotto." For now I'm using pots but I'll probably plant the ferns in it this fall.
A GREAT BIRTHDAY GIFT!
No folks, not me! Too bad it it isn't as easy as this!
My under-gardener and head sign painter took pity on the old crow in the garden (again, not me) and repainted it with One Shot sign painter's paint. Yes, that's the paint that still has lead in it, so he needs lots of ventilation! I usually place this sign between the tomato plants but they are already growing past their cages and filling the entire bed so we put it at the end where it can be seen...for now!
My Honey and resident sign painter said that I just needed this sign. I've been so upset since this BS immigration policy business that I've become depressed. Not a good thing! So he cheered me up by creating this sign. It reminds me that I can't let the current horseshit get me down. Soon we'll be rid of the ASSHOLE government in DC...one way or another!
Big theatre goers that we are (so not), we splurged and went to our local live theatre venue, THE CAMELOT THEATRE in downtown Talent, Oregon! It was as they say in reviews, "a night not to be missed" as we were treated to a spectacular show featuring all the Eagles hits, along with the history. The local band EAST MAIN BAND was fabulous. The only thing missing was Miss Linda R's voice on Desperado.
For us, as dancers, it's VERY FRUSTRATING not to be able to dance to this group. Most of the great local groups play at wineries, as does this one. Wineries don't have a clue about providing a dance venue. To them, dancing is just wiggling your butt to music, not moving around a floor to music. So in past that means to enjoy great groups we've had to SACRIFICE OUR BODIES by dancing on concrete with dangerous expansion grooves, rough wood decks and flimsy plywood with little support underneath or slippery tile. NOT COOL! But we did it because we were desperate.
Looking back on the "Eagles era" of the 1970's, I was busy raising babies and keeping the train on the tracks with my first husband. It was a full time job to say the least, but the Eagles provided lots of background music that made the job a bit easier and kept me at least partially sane.
The audience for this concert was just about totally gray-haired. It made me realize that it really was just about 50 years ago I first heard them. Oye!
Did I mention that my under-gardener is also an erstwhile sign painter? So he gifted me with an early birthday present since I happened to walk into his workshop whilst he was painting it. It was meant to be a surprise for later in the month.
The play on words is thanks to long time garden columnist Dulcy Mahar's husband Ted, who had a sign made to put on her much larger potting shed (which was really a nice hideaway at the back of her garden, complete with a sofa for napping and artwork!)
Mine...not so fancy and A LOT smaller! That means that I can't do as much POUTING AS I'D LIKE! Since I've grown up though, I don't pout as much as I did when I was a teenager and my mom accused me of being a Ubangi! Those are the folks in Africa with the enlarged lower lips thanks to bones placed in them...what we all learned from the National Geographic back in the day! Well, pouting aside, the sign adds a nice touch, don't you think?
Notice too that my potting, er pouting shed is almost empty of plants. Even with shade cloth draped over the roof, it gets up into the 100's quickly on warm days. Who needs a crockpot?...I could just do a pot roast in a casserole dish in there and I'm sure it would be cooked to perfection by dinner time!
