Outdoors

Gardening for Arizona Summer Survivors and Other Interested Persons

Posted on October 28, 2012 by Kami

African Daisies from my front yard last February

It’s gardening time in Arizona.  Hard to believe but true. Most of the northern hemisphere has already experienced an early taste of winter, a dash of snow, some frost, some dang is it really that time of year again driving.

Here in this odd pocket of strangeness that is the desert southwest, (no I’m not going to capitalize it) we are finally coming into our own, emerging from our air-conditioned caves, cars and hovels, to the bright new season that is sanity.

There is a good reason the town is named Phoenix.  A mythical bird that rises from the ashes.  That would be us, the desert rats, I mean, dwellers, the real survivors.  We don’t sneak away during the heat and come back later when it cools down like the snowbirds have the luxury of doing.  But that’s just me being bitter.  Sorry.

We come out in droves once the temperatures begin to stay below 90 degrees and the night-time temperature dip into the 70’s.  This morning it is a brisk and chilly 50 degrees if I step outside, which I’m not going to do since I’m still in my jammies. Yes, I said, chilly.  It’s a sixty degree difference from the 110’s we, ahem, enjoy, during the summer onslaught.  So yes, 50 feel chilly.

With such reasonable and lovely temperatures outdoors we Arizonans begin to think life is once again livable and endurable and we head outdoors to do all sorts of things we can brag about to our northern neighbors.  We post photos on Facebook of ourselves in the pool on New Years Day even though the water truly is too cold for swimming.  We throw some steaks on the grill in January and call a sibling to incite more rivalry, which we miss dearly.  We plant a garden and text or online chat about the tomatoes we just ate fresh off the vine in February.

And then we wonder why we get so many visitors in the winter.  Go figure.

I digress.

It’s gardening season.

In honor of that, I’m sharing a batch of information and websites from a recent very amature class I taught about Arizona gardening.

It’s handy stuff if you’re interested in growing anything here in the desert, from a solitary pot of flowers, to an all out miniature farm in your backyard (which MSH would love, but I won’t allow.)

For those of you in the wintry states, it’s a bit of interesting reading if you like gardening.

A California poppy, from amidst the rocks of my front yard.

I might make a quick mention that if you want wildflowers to bloom amidst your rocks or elsewhere you have another week or two to scatter those African Daisy seeds or California Poppy seeds.

In the interest of full disclosure, I have not planted my garden yet this year.  I’m a slacker, yes.  At least this year I am.  I could give you all my lame excuses but that would be boring.  I’m happy to try to answer any gardening questions you might have if I can, but honestly, all the websites below are where I learned ninety percent of what I know about gardening here.  So check them out and learn.  Then grow!

Phoenix Area Gardening Basics

Sun – 6 hours minimum is needed for a healthy garden.  Protection from afternoon sun is ideal but not absolutely necessary

Soil – lots of compost/organic matter and gypsum added to your soil (6 inches deep) or buy several good potting soil mixes to spade in together

Season – consult the planting guide for what to plant when (cool season or warm season)

Seeds – buy seeds that indicate early crop.  Store for up to 3 years if kept in a dry, cool spot, like inside your house. Dollar store kinds are fine. Our growing season is short, very short, hence the need for early crop varieties.

Water – a timer hooked up to a sprinkler or drip system is easiest.  Deep watering on a regular schedule will promote a strong root system and a healthy plant.

The early stages of one of my square-foot garden beds, sadly, not this year.

Square foot gardens You will only need 20 percent of the ground you would use for the row-and-furrow method. Lay out your garden in 4-foot-square boxes (or multiples like  3 x 4, 4 x 4, 4 x 8) so you can reach in from either side. If you have a box along a wall or fence, then make it only 2 feet wide (or multiples like 2 by 4, 2 by 8, 2 by 12) because you can only work the garden from one side and you won’t have to walk on the soil.

Use Miracle-Gro garden soil (or any other high quality gardening soil) – about four bags of 2 cubic feet each per box. If you have more than three 4 by 4 boxes, call Pioneer Materials and order sandy loam soil. It costs only $45 (at least a couple years ago it did ) for delivery of 1 cubic yard or more. Tell them how many square foot you will need, times 6 inches deep to figure volume. (http://www.melbartholomew.com/  (This blog is by the original guy who invented square-foot gardening!)

Containers – Many plants do well in pots, especially herbs, tomatoes, peppers.  Just keep a closer eye on watering needs

Gardening Websites

*Timely Tips – what to do each month, problems you might encounter, and how to solve them.  Includes lawn care and some tree info. http://cals.arizona.edu/maricopa/garden/html/t-tips/t-tips.htm

*Herbs – azherb.org  This site has great tips for soil preparation and discussions about herbs specifically and gardening generally

*Maricopa County Cooperative Extension – Anything you could possibly want to know or ask about gardening in Maricopa county.  http://cals.arizona.edu/maricopa/garden/html/general/hort.htm

*Flower planting guide – What to plant during which months, and bloom  times.  http://cals.arizona.edu/pubs/garden/az1100.pdf

*Square Foot Gardening  http://www.melbartholomew.com/

Categories: Gardening, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , | 1 Comment

Where the Wild Things Are, And the Not So Wild Things

Posted on October 25, 2012 by Kami

Recognizing a major need for escape from daily demands and stressors,  late last spring MSH booked me on a flight for that very day to visit a cousin in Colorado.  Not sure how he pulled that off, but he did.  Six hours later I found myself climbing into my cousin’s vehicle and sleeping on her pullout bed. What followed was a week of rest, meandering hikes, talking, eating, Scrabble and emotional healing. I returned home a new person, ready once again to face the world.  Here are a few select photos from that week.

Wishing I were here again.

This is a representative segment of one of the many lovely trails I enjoyed wandering.  Shady, tree filled, solitary.  Perfect for introspection, ideal for letting nature work her magic.

We had a nice friendly chat.

Seldom did I cross paths with other humans.  I did meet up with a pair of deer that treated me like a friend.  They actually didn’t run off when I approached.  We had a nice conversation for a while as I took pictures of them.  Their eyes have a look in them I haven’t yet been able to describe. My friend here stood still and posed for me five feet away from where I stood.  No need to zoom in.

A small pond I came across in a restoration area caught my eye.  The light and reflections were fun to watch.  The sense of calm the scene invoked was very welcome.

Surrounded by pines and peace.

Here’s another view of a lake I wrote about in an earlier post.  Must have been something about the elevation that made me feel emotionally lighter.  The heavy load I’d been hauling around for months dissipated on this hike.

Thanks for sharing my take on a taste of Colorado. Makes me want to go back for autumn, although I may have missed the colors changing by now.  These photos also remind me that I need that daily dose of nature in my life.  Being out-of-doors, my hands in the soil, my head in the clouds, surrounded by living plants, being part of the sights and sounds of the natural world, can make the difference between wellness and illness, joy and sorrow.

That connection to the real world grounds me, makes me whole and gives me energy. Here’s hoping you have such joys in your days.

Categories: Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The Ants Go Marching One by One, Hurrah, Hurrah

Posted on October 24, 2012 by Kami

The ants have taken over my yard.

Sounds like an exaggeration, but it’s true.

There are ants marching in a steady cadence around the entire perimeter of my Arizona patch of lawn.  There are ants building little mounds along my side walkway.  Those ants that race around like they found and devoured a discarded bottle of amphetamines are careening about the back porch as well as the driveway.  There seems to be two or three different armored divisions encircling the foundation of the house.  And the little six-legged ankle-biters have set up a path along the brick wall surrounding the yard. I know of at least one bush that they have commandeered for a nest.

Giant anteater (Myrmecophaga tridactyla). Phot...

Giant anteater (Myrmecophaga tridactyla). Photographed at the Phoenix Zoo, Phoenix, AZ. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

All these little critters make it difficult to do my yard work.  My ankles itch like crazy from the bites they inflict.  I’ve tried living peaceably with them.  Haven’t hosed them off or tramped on them or purchased an anteater.  I have a feeling an anteater would have some untoward side effects that might be worse than the ants.  Not sure I want to find out about that.

My first task this morning is to launch a counteroffensive against these invaders before they make themselves comfortable inside my house as well.

Peaceful Negotiations Unsuccessful

I have looked into alternative forms of persuasion.  Cinnamon, various other spices, talcum powder, cucumber peelings, vinegar, coffee grounds, citrus peels, chalk, borax mixed with syrup.

These tactics might work temporarily on a few poorly organized hapless group of ants.  This is not your usual little mound of easily dispatched workers.  Beneath my entire yard, well below the topsoil, lies a deep underground network of ants expertly trained and craftily deployed under my home.  We have so many ants I’m a bit concerned that they’re planning to carry the house off to another neighborhood.  No doubt they could if their tiny generals gave the orders.

No, I have set aside my dove like attitude of submission, cajoling, wishing and hoping.  I am now a hawk.  There is a full gallon of highly lethal and toxic bug spray waiting in the garage.  And a very large bag of some sort of bug dust also stands at the ready awaiting deployment by me, the itchy gardener.

Do Dogs, and Ants, Go to Heaven?

I’m not trying to upset the entire ecosystem.  I just want the ants to go hang out in someone else’s yard, preferably ant heaven, if there is such a thing. There they could build little mounds and march in long lines to their tiny hearts’ content.  Do ants have hearts?  I can’t think about that one.  Sends shivers up my spine and makes me feel even more itchy.

Repercussions?  Yes, there probably will be some.  I’m going to spray and scatter now and think about it later.

I just want to plant my winter flowers, weed my garden, and walk to my car without having my feet overrun by multitudes of tiny critters on their way to morning reverie.

Call me cruel.  Maybe I had one too many picnics ruined as a child.

Hoo-rah!

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Categories: Humor, Outdoors | Tags: , , , | 5 Comments

Two Verses On the Sounds and Sights of Sunday

Posted on October 21, 2012 by Kami

Early Sunday mornings around here are drenched in silence.  It’s a decadent feeling.  You might even call it serene. There is the occasional sound of a car in the distance, the odd background hum of an air conditioner, but for the most part the birds have the Sunday morning playlist covered.

Hummingbird

Hummingbirds zzzzzz through the air, darting and dancing among the various blossoms and edible insects.  They have a short chipping call that I find endearing.

The coo of mourning doves lends an undertone of reverence to the mostly silent morning.  Towhees get their name from the sound they make and I can count on a pair of them, at least, to add their notes to the quiet Sunday melody.  There is the sweet peep peep of house finches and the cheery chirrup of sparrows.  Not surprisingly, the Grackles seem to sleep in on Sunday mornings; which is fine with me, as their brackish caw adds little to the peaceful atmosphere.  The mockingbird provides the variation in this quiet Sunday song, as its call will vary with its latest exploits.

Sure, the birds are singing every morning, not just on Sundays, but they are the predominate sound on Sundays.  Today, the birds’ soft symphony is not a thing one has to search for amid the cacophony of traffic, dogs, horns, sirens, alarms, bells, construction, freeways, airplanes and people.  Today, I get to enjoy the clear tones of nature, the morning breeze across my skin, the refreshing silence of a Sunday.

A Different Kind of Music

What a contrast this is to what will be later this afternoon.  The park across the street will be alive with Frisbees, walking barking dogs, squeaking swings, thrown balls and children in their element.  There might be a picnic in the ramada with an extended family or group of friends.  The benches will fill with relaxed bodies, blankets spread out on the lawn. Babies will tentatively touch the grass and pull that sour face.

Girl Belly Button Upside Down Monkey Bars Weal...

photo by: stevendepolo

The sprinklers will surprise someone when they come on without warning and then a new game will occupy water-fascinated children.  Tummies will get a taste of sunshine as a few people hang upside from the monkey bars.  A tussle or two will result in tears.  Bicycles will whiz past, scooters will clack, clack, clack across the sidewalk bumps, a longboarder will slouch past, beatnik like, relaxed and too cool for words.

Shoes will fill up with sand.  Knees will get scraped.  Faces will get dirty.  Hands sticky.  Souls saturated with the perfection of a Sunday afternoon.

Sundays were made for silence and sanctuary.  They are ideal days for naps, friends and family, and good food.  Sundays are perfect for contemplating the miraculous and the ordinary.  The sacredness of Sundays manifests in so many ways.  There’s no other day like a Sunday.  It’s like a mini-holiday every week..  I guess that’s what it is, or can be, if we choose to make it so.  It is a Holy Day, something simply divine.

Categories: Joy, Music, Outdoors, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , | 2 Comments

Listening to the Sun

Posted on October 19, 2012 by Kami

Serenity found here…

The water from the lake barely ripples.  There is just a slight breeze, a few distance clouds.  Blue saturates the  sky, a clear color I haven’t seen for years.  At this elevation, 8500 feet, give or take a few,  the dust and haze of the valley hover far below, leaving no filter between me and the wide expanse above.

Pine trees enclose the small lake like a protective, natural fence.  From my seat, on an outcropping of boulders, the world is a pristine and perfect place.

The climb to this tiny utopia had been an exceptional elevation change for a desert dweller like myself.  (I live around 1200 feet above sea level.)  My lungs had worked hard to squeeze every molecule of oxygen out of the thin air as we hiked the sharply angled trail.

Sitting, with the silence as our only other companion, a kind of peace settles, filling in all the cracks and chinks of my worn out psyche.

My Personal Colorado Rocky Mountain High

Nearby a flutter of  dime-sized periwinkle  butterflies hover just above the ground like miniature flying bouquets.

I sip some water, crunch a couple of peanuts. Let out a long breath of contentment and calm.   My muscles have a hard-earned ache that let me know that, yes, I am very much alive.

The clarity of the blue above me works like a lullaby.  I am entranced, enchanted and captured by tranquility’s warmth. The weary, jagged parts of me begin to mend.

Leaning back on the boulders, I close my eyes.  The sun brushes my face and whispers.

Listen…

Categories: Joy, Outdoors | Tags: , , , , | 3 Comments

A Different Kind of Air Freshener

Posted on October 11, 2012 by Kami

The atmosphere is heavy with moisture this morning.  To say it’s humid would probably be stretching things a bit.  There is certainly a difference from the usual overly long lingering summer heat we’ve had until now.  The sky is almost completely overcast, the sun trying to break through the clouds, but not having much success.  It’s glorious!

The bedroom communities of Phoenix are hotbeds of sameness, consistency and boredom.  Every third house in a subdivision matches; every landscape holds the same selection of trees, bushes, and rocks.  There’s some small variety, a few “county islands” where the yards are bigger, the houses unique, the sidewalks missing.

This suburban sameness mirrors the weather here.  Every third day, every second day, heck, every day is identical to the others, sunny, hot, blue skies, sunny, hot, blue skies. Oh sure, we have our monsoon season, of towering dust clouds roiling like something out of a scorpion laced movie, but those are rare and out of the norm.

Any change in weather from the trifecta of sun, heat and blue is a welcome change.  So the clouds moving in are all but getting a party thrown in their favor.  “Welcome Back Rain!” our signs taped to the garage door would say.  “We’ve missed you!!  Heart, heart, heart, heart, heart. “

Washing my car was a kind of rain dance a few years ago.  Spend the time to do a nice thorough water and soap in a bucket hand washing in the driveway, buff out the spots, shine the side view mirrors and sure enough there’d be what we call around here, “spit rain.”  Just enough water would drop out of a nearly cloudless sky, mixing with the dust in the air, to create little muddy spots on the car windshield and mess up that shine.

Clouds battling it out with the sun.

Today, however, looks promising.  There’s a wet smell to the air and the clouds seem to be winning out in the battle over the sky.

So in homage to the tentative onset of autumn in the desert, my doors and windows open wide today, exchanging stale indoor air for fresh, moisture-laden air.  Did I suggest it might be fall like weather today?  Oops!  I didn’t mean to let that slip out.   I’m hesitant to say such things for fear of jinxing it.

Just now, while writing, I heard this weird sound.  A wagon on the sidewalk?  Someone going by with a walker to help them shuffle along? The parakeets tearing up the newspaper in their cage?  A cat clawing at the screen door?  Something seriously wrong with the refrigerator motor? Crackle, crunch, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.  Thought I better investigate.  Lo and behold, it’s raindrops hitting the sidewalk, the patio furniture, the rooftop, the leaves on the trees!  Five minutes of a smattering tease of rain.

I’ll take it.  Any rain, even amounts not measurable in a rain gauge are welcome.  (Insert a sigh saved up since April.) What that infinitesimal bit of moisture in the air adds to my day also can’t be measured.  Wet sidewalk scent should be a choice on the air freshener aisle.  Why isn’t it?

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Safety Pins and String

Posted on October 6, 2012 by Kami

“Stay away from the river!” Grandma would holler at us, not skipping a beat in whatever project she was in up to her elbows.

My cousins and I would let the screen door slam behind us as we headed outside. That wasn’t usually where we were planning on going, but it was where we always ended up.  First we’d circle around the enormous backyard, and do some exploring.  We might, or we might not, play in the old leaning barn, it’s smell of fresh hay and filtered sunlight and dust so tempting.  We might take off down the lane to see whatever there was to see that day.  Or we’d spy on the younger cousins, keeping well out of their vision lest we get wrangled by our parents into watching out for them.  There were some old foundations of buildings overgrown with grass and vines in another part of the tangled growth that was our cousins’ territory. Those were interesting places for the imagination to work with.

Inevitable

Safety pin, photo taken in Japan

But no matter what we might find to keep us entertained while the adults did their endless visiting, we would wind up at the river.  It was inevitable.  The river wasn’t even fifty yards away from Grandma’s front porch.  There wasn’t a fence or a barrier of any kind to keep us away from it’s beautiful gurgling, rush of water.  Besides that, it called to us, I’m sure of it.  “Come and play, come and play” it’s eddies and swirls would whisper.  Who could resist the call of a river?

The spot we favored was a small arching curve out where the river took a decidedly left-hand turn.  This served to slow the water down a bit.  Our favorite spot to play was a little rocky shallow area with willows and reeds just beside the slough.  “Stay away from that slough!” was another of Grandma’s favorite warnings.   The slough was a boggy grown in mess of mucky water that we wouldn’t dream of exploring. Our private area on the river’s shore, where we cautiously waded in and chucked rocks had clear splashy water with plenty of rocks on the shore to choose from.   It was quiet and hidden and felt like no other place on earth.

Fishing Heaven

If we had planned ahead we’d have a couple of safety pins, and some string.  And then we would have found some nice long sturdy sticks to attach them to.  We’d fling our short, makeshift lines out into the current only to have them immediately float right back to us.  I don’t think the string was ever quite long enough.  And even though our unmarried uncle sold bait to the real fishermen that frequented the river in that area, it never really dawned on us to bring some bait ourselves.  Impaling a wriggly worm on a safety-pin was the last thing I would dream of doing. Had we caught a fish, we wouldn’t have had a clue what to do with it. We were only pretending at everything we did anyway.

My cousins, who lived next door to Grandma, probably got to do real fishing all the time and were just humoring me.  Although, it seems they were every bit as invested in the process as I was.  Our bi-monthly visits to Grandma’s were a treat for us as well as for them.  We surely lived a charmed life when we got together.

With the vast amount cousins that spent time at Grandma’s it’s a miracle that no one ever drowned. I think there must have been some busy guardian angels at that spot in the river.  A few of the younger cousins seemed drawn to mayhem and mischief like flies to honey.  Or was it that mischief and mayhem was drawn to them?  That’s the more likely of the two.  I’m sure there were angels, or maybe even Saint Andrew himself, the patron saint of fishermen, who oversaw the protection and safety of our clan.  Surely it wasn’t that far for angels or saints to be on the job.  That spot, by Grandma’s house, was a little piece of heaven.

Categories: Memory Lane, Outdoors, Relationships | Tags: , , | 8 Comments

Magic in the Morning Air

Posted on October 3, 2012 by Kami

It’s still dark, still practically night, at 4:50 when I leave my house to go walking. “She must be out of her mind,” you’re thinking. Don’t lie. I can hear you. “Who wakes up that early to go walking?” that’s what you’re thinking. “Crazy people, that’s who.”

“People from Central Arizona,” would be my reply. Yes, I am a bit crazy, that’s completely true. But, more important in this conversation is that I live in the greater Phoenix area. The DESERT. That is why I’m awake so ridiculously early and why I am walking in the dark. No offense to my fellow desert rats, I mean Valley of the Sun dwellers, but we all must be crazy to live here.

If you’d ever lived here, or do live here, an explanation for nearly night/early morning walks would not be necessary. But then most people are fortunate not to live in the desert so let me be more concise.

It’s flipping hot here in the desert, even at night, especially during our eternal summer. It cools down about 15 degrees at night if we’re lucky. So it’s 85 or 90 degrees when I leave in the dark to walk. Imagine what happens when that rolling ball of hydrogen surges over the protective horizon and starts blasting down laser rays of heat across the already baked, seared, sandblasted landscape of the desert floor.

We celebrate sunsets here in Arizona. Look at our flag, for crying out loud, it’s a sunset. We cheer when the sun goes away for the day. It’s a sign that we survived another blast furnace day.

Sunrises are nice during our six months of (cough) winter. But that’s another story. I digress.

I’m walking. Meeting my walking partner. Had I mentioned that? There’s an important detail. I don’t walk alone in the dark. No way.

I meet my walking partner where our two neighborhoods intersect.

The plants hover overhead. It’s so dark it could be midnight.

So we walk. We get sweaty even in the dark.

We talk.

We vent.

We laugh.

We cry.

We explain.

We justify.

We make sense of our lives, at least temporarily, as our feet move. Once we get home, reality sets in, but that, too, is another story.

We weave this beautiful, sad, heart wrenching tapestry in the air above us. I can almost see our words above us, intertwining, circling. Our conversation is an amazing work of art and heart. There are shades of blue mostly. That’s to be expected. But there are some brilliant greens looping through, like little vines. And some yellows burst in the air above that, like little fireworks. For some reason there hasn’t been much red. Lavender blossoms emerge in the conversational picture above us, their fragrance almost discernible.

It’s a priceless work of art we weave with our talk as we move along the path.

Reluctantly ending our walk, more reluctantly ending our conversation, we air hug. We’re both too sweaty for a real one.

The talking tapestry we created does this swirling dance, divides into two parts. One half follows her and the other half chases after me.

By then the sun is undeniably up for the day. A combination of heat, sore muscles and the solitude conspires to turn the dancing conversational colors in the air to a dust that settles in my hair and on my shoulders. The walk has worked its magic. I feel a bit more whole, a little bit more able to cope with reality. I am a little more what I need to be for the day ahead.

It’s worth the loss of sleep.

Categories: Outdoors, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Cool Glass of Water

Posted on October 2, 2012 by Kami

You know that feeling you have when you've been thirsty for a while, quite a while, and you finally, blessedly get that drink of water?  You guzzle that drink like your life depends on it.  (It does.)  You might even let some water dribble out the sides and run down your chin and neck because you're so thirsty you just forget about manners and appearances.  And when you're done pouring that liquid into your parched body you let out that loud, contented sigh.  Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh...

At Last

That feeling right there is how the cool air feels to me when it finally arrives here in the desert.

To honor that delicious, long drink of cool air that is in the atmosphere this Tuesday morning, I’m providing a list of other wonderfully satisfying experiences in my life.

– unrestrained, unstoppable laughter after a really good joke

– the golden color and sound of fall quaking aspen leaves

– my granddaughter snuggling up to my shoulder and settling in as if she’s found home.

– crumbling dirt clods with my bare hands just before planting seeds

– photographs of my children when they were young and still in awe of the world

– being lost in a book so thoroughly that time disappears and doesn’t matter

– dancing when no one else is around

– catching the perfect edge of a wave on a boogie board

– long, winding conversations

– having and taking the time to go the scenic route

This is by no means a complete list.  Just a smattering of joys to share with you this fine Tuesday morning.  I hope if this prompts you to think of some of your own soul quenching joys you’d feel willing to share with me.  I’d love to hear about them.

Categories: Gratituesday, Outdoors | Tags: , , , | 4 Comments

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