grace under pressure

Greetings and salutations everyone; here I am again, Chess the purebred border collie, filling in for the guy I live with, to tell you all about the fascinating things that happen in our garden. You may remember me from such posts as “Trouble In Paradise” and “After The Equinox”, among so many others.

Here I am in a characteristically pensive pose.111309The reason, if there really has to be one, for the dumb Hemingway reference will become clear in just a minute. The guy I live with was forced to read a bunch of Hemingway as an English major in college, when he would rather have been reading Raymond Chandler or Ross Macdonald, and he thought this was vaguely funny. This can be a rough climate for what he calls “traditional” plants, and while he tries to steer away from them as much as possible, there are some which he just can’t resist.

This is Cotinus ‘Grace’. Irresistible, he says. And it was on sale. 111301It sat in a bucket full of water overnight, so that the root ball was fully moistened before it went into the ground. He wanted a ‘Grace’ for years and the few nurseries around here which carried it were always sold out when he went searching for it. 111302The guy I live with said that this part of the North Border lacked “density of incident”, which he said was André Gide’s definition of a real work of art. I assume by this that he meant not enough plants, because he doesn’t think gardens are art, and just wanted to show off. He said he knew someone once who pronounced Gide’s name as “guide”, and he still thinks that’s funny. When he and my mommy met, she had a pencil on which she had written the words (from the Psalms) “I will praise thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made”, which is in the inscription in The Counterfeiters (or one of the other novels) and after a while my mommy started reading Gide, which she didn’t pronounce like guide, and especially enjoyed Lafcadio’s Adventures. What this all has to do with the shrub he just bought, I don’t know.

Back to ‘Grace’, now. The guy I live with says that it’s a cross between the North American native Cotinus obovatus and the Eurasian C. coggygria. About C. obovatus, Bean (you know, Bean)111307says, and I quote, “This remarkable species is found in a few isolated habitats in Tennessee, Alabama, and other south-eastern United States, but is nowhere common. … In the beauty of its inflorescences it is very much inferior to Cotinus coggygria, but, on the other hand, it is one of the loveliest shrubs in autumn, its leaves turning to various shades of scarlet, claret colour, and orange before they fall.”

The other species, Cotinus coggygria, is common in the trade, mostly in its purple-leaved form (the guy I live with says there’s a regular green one up the street), and “needs no introduction”. He says the specific epithet is derived from the Greek κοκκυγέα (kokkigéa), or “wig tree”, which is a common name for the shrub. “Read Theophrastus’s Historia Plantarum“, he said. Like he ever did.

We have a couple of purple smoke bushes, or wig trees, here. One has been in the “way back” garden for many years, and always experiences some die-back during the winter. (Not yet; the leaves just froze.)111303The other one is new, and the leaves didn’t freeze. Haven’t frozen yet, I mean. 111304Anyway, ‘Grace’ sat in a bucket of water overnight. This morning he pulled it out, and went to work on the root ball, which was mostly just a mass of roots.111305He used a root hook.111306So it’s planted now. The guy I live with said he had “moderately high hopes” for its survival. The soil has been dug and re-dug over and over again in the part of the North Border, but it lies over a layer of caliche which is almost impenetrable. He says he could have dug through the layer of caliche down to the natural soil, which is a gritty sandstone-clayey sort of stuff, but he didn’t feel like digging down that far. The border has always been a very dry one, but ‘Grace’ is said to be able to tolerate these conditions. The guy I live with thinks “rejoice in” would be more encouraging than “tolerate”, so we’ll see.

Well, there you go. He has a ‘Grace’ now. I suppose I could have just said that, and saved a lot of time. Oh, and I’m supposed to show this picture of Crocus kotschyanus HKEP 9322. 111308That really is all I have for today. I bet the guy I live with could find a reason for me to drone on for another thousand words, but it’s time for my nap now.

Until next time, then.

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a long walk

Hello everyone; it is I, Chess the purebred border collie, a guy who likes long walks in the park, plenty of cuddles, and an endless supply of food, here to tell you about the latest news in the garden. You may remember me from such posts as “No Snow Today” and “The Rainy Season”, among so many, many others. We’re approaching 450 posts since the guy I live with started this just last April. That’s a lot of talking.

Here I am in a characteristic pose. Unfocused as usual. I’m wondering why I’m not getting a biscuit after our long walk this morning. (I got one, in case you started to worry.)

111121This morning we went on a very long walk, in search of the late-blooming rabbitbrush. No one seems to believe the guy I live with that there is such a thing. My mommy didn’t believe half the stuff he told her, and he said she was believing about five times more than she should, but then, she liked him a lot. And it’s true, we could have just walked next door, but that would have taken all the fun out of it for me, and, if you didn’t know, things pretty much are all about me. Or at least they should be.

Here I am walking along the Turkey Creek Canyon Canal. Our house is to the south (right) of this. I’m walking toward the east. Well, I would be, wouldn’t I? 111103

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111105Some time around now, the water gets shut off. It’s still flowing, as you can see. There are fish and crawdads in it. Not in this picture, though. 111104This is the sluice, where we turn around. There was a farm house here at one time; they used the water. 111106This is me again. Now we’re walking down the path that the coyotes, Norm and Celeste, started, but which I made much better for walking, by walking on it a lot. Now we’re headed to the southwest. The path follows the creek, which is on the left, between me and the cottonwood. There’s no water in it now. Anyway, I’m headed toward the willows in the distance there. 111107Into the willows. 111110

111109Out of the willows, and now under the big willow. It’s kind of creepy. A very quiet place. 111111The end of the path, and more big willows. The reason you don’t see me is that I’ve already turned around. 111112Time for a sniffing detour.111113Here’s our house. The blue one. You can see all the drays in the trees. If you look really closely, you can see the late-blooming rabbitbrush. 111114Maybe you can see it better now.111117Looking into our garden. You can see the new sand pile. 111118

 

111116A sniffing detour in the long grass on the way home. This was a really great walk. 111115Back in front, and the late-blooming rabbitbrush next door. I guess we call this Ericameria nauseosa, which isn’t a very promising name. I think this was the one they planned to extract rubber from during the Second World War, hence the other name, “rubber rabbitbrush”. The guy I live with doesn’t know why these bloom so late, because the older one in our front yard blooms at the regular rabbitbrush time. Like September. 111119

111120Well, that’s really it for today. Oh, well, one more thing. This is pretty ridiculous if you ask me. I think the guy I live with is way too lenient with rodents. That’s my fort on the left. I don’t ring the bell to go out like my grandpa Flurry did, because the back door is almost always open. We came pretty close to having a house guest, here. 111122Until next time, then.

 

 

 

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