Bits and pieces of the beginnings of 2014

Little blessings
In early December, I got sick with the flu. I got better in time for Christmas and then caught a cold on Christmas Eve/Christmas Day and have been recuperating from that ever since. Imagine the delight I felt when I peeked out the north facing windows to see the camellias were blooming before New Year's Day! It's as if they know I need to see their brilliantly colored faces just a tad earlier than February. It really isn't the camellias that know. It's their Creator that knows. And I am grateful that He cares enough to send sweet little blessings like this when I need them.

The studio build-out moves forward... without me
Hubby had a lot of vacation time accrued and decided to take a significant chunk of it before, during and after the holidays. As well as doing the Christmas shopping this year, he diligently crossed things off the to-do list of home repairs and improvements.

He removed the last vestiges of the pantry units that ran along the interior of our garage that is to become my studio. That is the wall (above) where my computer workspace will be.

The garage door will be replaced by a large set of three windows to let in loads of east-facing light perfect for photographing and creating.

The only things left in the garage are what you see above. The freezer (at the left) needs to be moved inside where it will reside permanently from now on in a pantry we're going to create by framing in half of the area we call "The Tiki Room". So the moving of the freezer is the next big thing that has to happen (probably some time this week) before we can begin the last bits of clean up around the existing garage framing (removing old stucco, sheet rock and nails). Then it'll be time to install floor joists.

The pantry bases Hubby built years ago came out in sturdy intact boxes that will be perfect to use as planter boxes in the area of the back garden that has yet to have hardscape installed. The boxes aren't made of pressure-treated lumber (just plain old pine) so they'll be somewhat sacrificial and will degrade over the next couple of growing seasons. That's okay since they're on their second life anyway.

This Winter's garden
We always have overnight frost in the winter but don't normally experience extended periods of time when the overnight temps dip so far below freezing over and over that everything gets "zapped" really bad.

Well, in early December that's exactly what happened.

Hubby monitors the weather very closely so when the forecasts showed a freeze warning with temps dipping down into to the mid 20F range (-6C) it was time to take some serious precautions. Despite being sick, I went out and strung some white Christmas lights (the old non-LED kind) around in each of the citrus trees to help them stay warm and prevent serious frost damage to the branches. My efforts saved the foliage but not my orange crop. The freezing temps caused the interior juices to expand and burst the bottoms of many of the oranges--freeze-drying the insides as they hung on the tree. It's too bad too... I had a really nice crop this year.

For the first time I can remember, I didn't have any roses blooming on Christmas Day to photograph and share here on the blog. Every rose that was blooming was shriveled to a brown blob. The bower vine on one side of the front pergola really took a hit and I'm wondering how much of it survived. The red Japanese honeysuckle on the other side did better but still has some crispy leaves. I'll have to wait and see if I lost either of my two remaining bougainvillea. I'm not used to the roses looking so bleak in January. Even the Cecile Brunner (below right) said, "Enough is enough!" and has dropped all it's normally evergreen-year-round foliage.

And then there's the amazing loquat (above left). I am always amazed at the tenacity and heartiness of such a tropical looking tree. Even its blossoms are weathering the cold well. If a frost kills a bunch of blossoms, the tree just send out more in their place.

Again, I'm grateful for the small blessing of seeing life thriving when everything else in the garden looks so bedraggled and sad. The loquat, the camellia, and the palm trees are all beautifully green reminders to me that everything will be green again in another month or two--that by the end of February I'll be able to set out the new planter boxes, fill them will soil, and begin sowing seeds in March.

The little things brightening my January

January is a never an easy month for me. I brace myself every year for the month when my seasonal affective disorder hits the hardest and I find myself surfing the internet at midnight looking for flights to Hawaii.

But this year has been a bit different, in a good way.

This time last year I had spent the last 5 months of 2010 significantly incapacitated by my own body, and I was waiting anxiously for surgery to rectify the issues. The garden was overgrown and unruly, and I was helpless to change that fact as I sat inside watching anything entertaining I could find on Netflix.

Having been through that experience and journaling it on a blog so I can go back and read about it has provided me with a significant amount of perspective. I took mental notes then and have enacted them this year.

This year I decided that I would make sure and plant a small winter container garden on the back deck. In the past I haven't wanted to spend money on annual flowers because it seemed like a waste of resources.

But this year was different.

In November, I went to the local nursery and bought potted herbs--chives, oregano, marjoram and a couple of varieties of thyme. Then I bought winter annuals (we have those here) to plant in the pots next to the herbs. I got pretty little violas with purple and white faces, pansies in rich jewel tones, and ruffled snapdragons in a pale peachy pink (my favorite). I couldn't resist a beautiful purple and green decorative kale so I got it too.

I filled the terra cots pots with the little splashes of color. When I was done, it seemed like a lot of work for such a small space. But I knew it would be worth it come January.

And I was right.

Sheltered against the house on our southwestern facing deck, the flowers have thrived despite frosty nights with temps below freezing. And around 1 pm when the afternoon sun makes its way to that side of the house, I go out and bask in it for a while to soak up the important rays that fend off my seasonal affective disorder. Along with some potted lavender that's chosen to continue blooming through the winter, the little potted flowers are my companions and they are brightening my January, making it so much easier this year than in years past.

If that isn't enough and I really need a pick-me-up, I stand under the loquat tree growing on the super-sunny-south-side of the house and watch honeybees buzz from blossom to blossom as if January never happens in their little world. The honeybees on the loquats remind me that February almond blossoms, daffodils and narcissus are right around the corner. And soon it will be spring.

Click here if you'd like to read the blog I mentioned above

Loquat blooming

Nine years ago we were spending our first winter here at Rosehaven Cottage. To our delight, the neighbor had a very mature loquat tree growing on the south side of our house right along the fence line. I'd never seen a loquat tree in person before moving here. Although its thick waxy leaves look wonderfully tropical, it's a hardy tree that can withstand temps below freezing.

For the first couple of years, we loved the shade the tree provided in the heat of summer and the evergreen foliage and blooms it provided in the starkness of winter. The squirrels loved it too, scampering up and down the top of the fence to get to the delicious fruit whenever it was ripe in late spring.

Then the house next door sold to a new owner. And one Sunday we looked out our window to find that the tree was gone. We were moved to tears. And it wrenched our hearts watching the very confused squirrels come running down the top of the fence and then stop where the tree used to be and look up as if to say, "What happened here?"

Needless to say, the following summer was hotter on the south side of our house. And the fence looked starker. I wasn't happy (tree lover that I am).

But all was not lost, thanks to our little squirrel friends. During those days they had munched on ripe loquats, they had also buried the pits in the ground below on our side of the fence. And it wasn't long before I saw little loquat seedlings coming up amidst the ivy that grows there. As they got bigger, I dug a couple up to put in pots (one now lives in my mother-in-law's garden). A few stayed in the ground and as they matured, I trimmed them and thinned them so that only the best formed trees stayed.

Year after year, the loquat seedlings have gotten bigger and their large tropical dark-green leaves have multiplied. But no blossoms. Year after year and no blossoms. If there aren't any blossoms, there won't be any fruit. I thought maybe the loquats grown from seed were sterile. Well, at least I could enjoy the foliage, right?

But this winter, around Christmas, I noticed clusters were forming on the tree! Would we really have blossoms? A couple of weeks later, and we do indeed have blossoms! I've seen a few bees buzzing around them. I'm hoping we have enough bees to pollinate them (last summer we had hardly any bees in the garden and the ones I do find are dead on the ground). If enough pollinators do their job, the squirrels will have their loquats again.