We started trimming the huge blue bush in our backyard. It’s a thin layer of blue-purple jacaranda-colored flowers over a whole lot of spooky dead stuff. I think it’s about 30 feet wide: monstrous, and way too big for our yard. With a machete and a saw, Ben tunneled into the middle of the bush, then tried to chop down the main stem, only to discover that actually, this bush had grown over a tree. Yes, there was an entire dead tree inside our bush. With the tree cut down, the bush collapsed on Ben, but he got out okay and now the whole thing looks much better.
Our land is hard-packed dry sand. Not much grows here, but what does survive is tenacious.
I’ve finally got some of my own seedlings going, though. There are flowers on my poppy, sunflower, lavender, and tomato plants. I have high hopes for the sage, too, and the transplanted lilies. Ben cut down two sickly trees (in addition to the bush-smothered tree), and he opened things up a lot, but there’s still so much left to do. Even the compost takes longer to go through its composting cycle, here, because everything is so dry and foreign to me. I was a much better gardener in New England, I swear I was.
That was how we spent our weekend. That, and helping S&V move — mostly by watching their baby and bringing them meals. And getting to see C&J. Ben went on a fast group-bike-ride, I got to go to yoga, Sophie giggled a lot while watching us garden. And refused to nap, except in the car. (This morning I finally got her napping in her stroller, at least.) That was our weekend, and it was surprisingly satisfying.