ABOUT FENCE! HOLLY HUMOR

ABOUT FENCE!  HOLLY HUMOR

I must be living right. I have friends who know how to do things I can’t do and tools and materials to make things happen (in the right season).

Burford Holly hedge behind Tiger Fountain

The south border of Tiger Fountain Garden is a dwarf Burford holly hedge.

Rotundafolia Holly and Althea shrub

There’s a Rotundafolia holly (named for the shrub’s natural round shape) around the corner to the east.

Burford Holly hedge and 'volunteer' under the hedge

Burford holly (in the background) has an oval leaf with a sharp point . Rotundafolia (in the foreground) has five sharp points on the sides and end of the leaf.  Every one of the seven volunteer hollies under the Burford hedge has Rotundafolia leaves. I always thought it was sort of a holly joke that all those seedlings favor the other parent but now I’m not so sure. 

Rotundafolia leaves and Burford leaves on same plant.
Wendell is getting clay off the clamshell digger as he digs  a posthole in background.

Wendell and I thought the plant we removed was one of those joke hollies because it had Rotundafolia leaves as far as we could see under the parent holly. When we moved it we saw, eight feet up at that the top, only  Burford holly leaves!  One of these days we’ll transplant those seedlings and one of these years we’ll see if they all change into Burford holly.

The Road to Mushroom Mountain

The Road to Mushroom Mountain

This morning I returned from the Georgia Organics Grits and Vigor conference.  I hadn’t taken my house keys with me, after all, Bond had stayed home and could let me in.  He didn’t answer the phone both times I called and only Stevie and Ernie came to the back door when I banged on the knocker. After I checked to see that the cat patio was locked (he hadn’t fed those cats yet) I went around to the garden gate.  I was delighted to go directly to the next gate, the Sunken Garden Gate, without dog company because I’d made a point to finish that project before the conference.  I entered the house to find Bond in his shower attire, why he hadn’t heard the phone or door knocker.  SO good to be home!

I moved my suitcase and 2 bags of conference booty into the house and shared the loot and good news.

After puttering all day, I tidied up the cat patio.  I discovered a chewed up plastic bag with a Mushroom Mountain label. WAIT! Where did the cats find this? Did they find an old bag from a past purchase? I’d used inoculant for legumes before. I’d better take a closer look.  Damn! It was the one pound bag of mycorrhizal granules I’d purchased yesterday to inoculate seeds I’m sowing on the Tilley Farm to help remedy years of conventional farming. I figured FlirtyGirl had nabbed it from my luggage while I was going around the house so I went to the back door.  I hoped she hadn’t eaten it; no telling what it would do to a mammal. To my relief, there was a little trail leading from the door, around and under the fence and ending under the oldest wood pile mixed in with all kinds of organic matter. I had no choice but to sweep it all up.  I’ll still use it.  I’d intended to make my own mixture from the abundant microbes here at home anyway.  Now I just won’t be able to compare them (unless I buy another bag.)

Inheritance

The narcissus around our birdbath haven't bloomed well for years; in part because its in shade and then they haven't  been divided in a long time. Really it's best to take them all out and put some back.

Last week I got a huge clump out only to discover the ajuga ground cover both sheltered and over shaded by the next clump of narcissus. 

Steady she goes! Better wait a bit to dig the rest out so as not to sunburn OR freeze burn the ajuga. 

After a week I needed to do something with the dug-up bulbs; If they were to survive I couldn't just leave them in a garbage bag. As my left arm still isn't functioning 100%, preparing and planting narcissus in a flower bed was out of the question. I could've washed and then dried them to plant later but I already have too many projects on the back burner and probably would wind up just throwing them away. And then I remembered where I got them, in the field where the family mansion burned down. Grandmama told me, when she got married (before WWI) she'd gone home to Rome GA and dug up narcissus, daffodils and butter'n eggs bulbs from her grandmother's garden to plant around her new home.  They'd survived the fire.  Later when neighbors grew corn on the land, the plows spread the bulbs over the vacant lot. 

I planted my narcissus in the sunniest spot i could find, the orchard. With any luck they'll be there for another generation or two.