Backyard Magic

Like the earth itself, our backyard has evolved over the years.

The Jungle Age predated our arrival in 2003.

Our first kid arrived in 2004, beginning a ten year period known as The Broken Toy Age.

This overlapped with The Weed Age (which continues to this day).

By 2014, I finally had some time and energy for the yard, thus beginning The Great Gardening Age.

There were years—maybe a decade!—in which the yard was largely ignored and had to fend for itself. I had three little kids and 95% of my energy went toward keeping them alive. Any yard project that required more than twenty minutes at a time was penciled into the next decade.

But life is a little less hectic now that the kiddos are older, and gardening has become one of my favorite hobbies. On weekends you’ll find me covered in dirt, and I love it!

2003: the northeast corner of our yard before any changes.

A year ago I considered posting about our yard projects but I was concerned that the timing was wrong. I did not want the post to come off as insensitive or braggy, right in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic. My friend M said that it might give people a boost to see something bright and colorful during a time when our spirits felt bleak. Still, I decided to wait, and I truly hope this piece comes across as cheerful and encouraging rather than as a brag fest.

Over the years, we enjoyed various aspects of our yard. We liked that the previous owners planted trees—they wanted this place to feel like home, rather than a temporary stop. The apricot tree was pretty and produced a handful of apricots (one year it yielded exactly one apricot, but why split hairs?). The overgrown tangle of trees and weeds provided nooks and crannies for our kids to explore when they were tiny. There were many hiding places for Easter eggs. It worked for us, so why change things? Plus, I was super busy with the kids and the yard was not an urgent matter. But at some point the kids grew and I could do a few “me” things, like working more in our yard. 

We added a few plants over the years, but the biggest change came in early 2018, when Hubby built a home office in our back yard. Hubby and I are both DIYers, and although I helped a little, he built it himself and did an amazing job. The color scheme and design matched our house, and soon I felt like it had always been there.

Winter 2018: Hubby's office is in the same corner that you see in the photo above.

Hubby's office, designed and built by my hubby, modest man who hates compliments. I think it's awesome.

I decided to build a garden wall, as the office met the patio in a way that seemed too abrupt. Plants would soften the transition. I discovered that I love building planters, which helped organize the yard. The geometry of the concrete block planters contrasted well against the organic shapes of the flowers and plants. 

The garden wall / planter I built below Hubby's office.

Once the office was in, I started looking at the yard differently. I wanted the yard to reflect us, rather than the previous owners. The apricot tree was dead, and needed to be removed. I took a long look at the yard and realized that I wanted to take out three other trees, too. Yet, I was racked with guilt because taking out four trees (even if one was dead) felt wrong to me. One tree was a dwarf orange, only waist tall, so it wasn’t like I was killing an ancient Sequoia tree. But still, I felt badly. Eventually I decided that it was okay for us to make our yard how we want it. Removing the trees opened up the yard a lot, and my ideas started flowing. (Side note: if you are a very stubborn person, you can cut down trees by yourself, refusing help from anyone else. You need a reciprocating saw, and it’s possible your hands will be unusable for two days afterward, too sore or cramped to do anything. But it can be done!)

The back fence after trees were gone, before I added planters.

The previous owners added a patio in sections and a raised brick planter at the back of the yard. “Planter” sounds small but this area is big—fourteen feet wide by thirty feet long, and it’s about a foot higher than the patio. Once I started removing trees, weeds and overgrowth, I found more brick walls that had been covered by leaves, weeds and dirt. It felt exciting—like stumbling upon ancient Mayan ruins!—well, maybe not super old or Mayan. But still, it was fun to unearth walls I’d never seen, and the walls gave me some direction for how to create other zones in the yard. 

Who knew that a brick divider wall was hidden under robust weeds?

                                                                                                                                                                         

A few drawings to illustrate the changes made in our yard:

2019: trees are gone. Wall is found. Pool is deflated. Dirt is...dirt. Mama is tired.

2019--Building a planter against the back fence.

Planter wall, including some cuttings from friends.

In 2019 I made a peacock garden mosaic, and built two more concrete block planters. I also bought gray cement pavers to put in front of Hubby’s office, but I got distracted and they sat in a heap in the yard for months. 

Some of the pavers I painted.
Mixing and matching is marvelous and magnificent.

More pavers. Keeping it lively.

March 2020: the pavers are not finished but at least I started.

In 2020 I built one more planter, and finally got stern with myself about painting the pavers to install in front of Hubby’s office. I wanted an eclectic vibe, and I was inspired by blue and white Moroccan and Mexican tiles I saw online. I used inexpensive blue acrylic and I hand-painted designs onto the pavers. There are a few repeats but most are unique, and it’s a playful mix of traditional looks, modern spatter-painted pavers, and space age designs. I love to mix and match. The painted pavers may not endure for a hundred years, but eighteen months later they still look great. This paver “patio” goes with our blue accent color and provides pattern and whimsy.

During the stressful, isolated months from 2020 through 2021, gardening was a lifejacket for me. In the early months of COVID-19, I didn’t go into stores, so I wasn’t buying materials or plants. But container gardening allowed me to rearrange plants out back, and working in the dirt was soothing to my soul. Doing something that made our yard look good gave me a boost during the pandemic, when I felt helpless and anxious. 

2020

I used river rock from the front yard to fill in spaces.

Summer 2020.

 Lessons I’ve learned and want to share:

1.       When you are redesigning or refreshing a space, see if there are existing elements that work for you (like our brick planter). If so, use some of what is already there. This cuts down on cost, effort and time. Plus, it makes you think more creatively because you are mixing old with new, rather than using a blank slate, and you often you get a more interesting effect.

2.       It’s okay to make your space your own. If you decide to remove something, be it a wall or tree or whatever it is, you’re not a criminal! It’s your space and it should reflect you.

3.       Be patient and celebrate each finished stage, big or small. It’s tempting to want everything to look finished right away. Who doesn’t like immediate gratification? But when a project happens in stages, I appreciate each victory, thereby extending my satisfaction.

4.       Try your hand at DIY projects. They are gratifying because they have your stamp on them. Plus, you save money (sure, they take more time but think of this time as in investment).

 To be honest, our yard still looks a little like a construction site. It’s not finished and may never be, as I tend to rearrange things every few months. The old me would have wanted to share photos only after everything was finished and amazing. The new me knows that perfection does not exist and that the quest for it only pressures me. Sharing real photos, like our giant dirt pile, reminds us that no one’s yard or life is flawless. 

And so, to keep things relatable, here’s a list of what else was not pictured: weeds, occasional doggy doo, plant leaves with chomp holes from caterpillars, dog hair on the edge of the patio, more weeds, a gopher hole, supplies jumbled in the side yards, spider webs, bird poop on the planters, rotting premature persimmons that fell on the ground…and more weeds.

Years ago someone said something a bit snarky to me. A mutual friend described all the creative things I do and the other lady said, “Oh, well, I don’t have time for all that.” Her righteous tone implied that I spent time on meaningless stuff, whereas she was doing important things. I shook it off but years later, I almost feel a need to explain my life. Yes, I am lucky that I can spend time on my yard. Sure, it’s not essential, but it brings me joy. My family comes first. I love teaching. I do the chores that need doing. But in my leftover time, I love gardening. It calms me, and it provides beauty (and sometimes tomatoes). My yard looks different from how it used to because I put time in daily. These progress photos span years, so this is not an overnight makeover. 

Spring 2021

Especially in the early days of parenting, I didn’t understand that self care is vital. Gradually I learned that it is important to do something that feeds your soul. If it brings you peace and doesn’t hurt others, do it! Maybe it’s playing music. Maybe it’s going to ball games. For me, it’s reading and gardening. Find whatever it is that feeds your spirit.  

Summer 2021.

Now where was I? Yes, gardening. Anyway, if you love DIY (Do It Yourself) projects the way we do, or if you’re willing to try them to save on cost, you will be amazed at what you can do yourself. Some of my supplies (bricks and plant cuttings) I got for free online—one neighbor’s trash is another’s treasure, right? Making a place look great is not necessarily about spending a lot—it’s about using your imagination. Buy the smaller plant for a better price, and wait for it to grow. Patience will reward you. You need some time, a modest budget, supplies, and the interest in making it your own.

I hope this backyard refresh brightened your day, and I’ll see you again soon, here on the blog. School is starting up and before long I will have loads of student art to share. ‘Til then, I will be moving potted plants around, cursing at the weeds, occasionally finding a Hot Wheels car or Lego brick under layers of dirt, and watching Mother Earth work her magic…

A Delightful Day in the Dirt at Lisa's Farm

If you see three emus, you are almost there.

I’m not talking about a zoo. I’m talking about something amazing in the land just north of the US-Mexican border: ranches and farm land.

Over the weekend I worked at Lisa’s farm for half a day. I found Lisa through the Craigslist ad she posted to find locals who want to volunteer at her farm.

My gardening passion is growing and has become a fascination with farms. Lisa’s need for help and my interest in learning about farming came together on a clear, sunny morning.

Lisa’s is the fourth farm I’ve visited and the second farm where I’ve volunteered my help (I will blog about helping on the other farm soon).

Lisa’s South Bay farm is one-quarter of an acre. The farm sits on land that is part of the Tijuana River Valley Regional Park, which includes a huge community garden, the largest in the county. The handful of farm plots like Lisa’s were designated in 2018 as an experiment overseen by RCD (Resource Conservation District). The farms may be relatively new but the 201 garden plots on the land date back decades. Each garden plot is 30’ x 30’ and the effect is a beautiful patchwork quilt of green wonderland. As I drove toward the farm, I noticed the variety in each garden plot. Some have hand-painted art or signs, many have garden sheds and bird feeders and one has a French door as the entrance. I saw sugarcane, flowers, berries, sweet peas, sunflowers, dragon fruit, banana trees, tomatoes, gourds, roses and lots of vines in the garden plots near Lisa’s farm.

Once I arrived, Lisa showed me around and I asked her if I could write about the farm in my blog. Milliseconds after she agreed, the questions began, and we talked while I worked. I helped at Lisa’s farm for four hours, creating garden beds along her fence line. I shoveled approximately twenty wheelbarrow loads of horse manure compost and dumped it into long, two-foot wide beds before raking it smooth. By the time I finished I had a very good upper and lower body workout and I’d enjoyed hours of peaceful time outdoors. As I told Lisa, it feels good to work my muscles, and I like falling into bed at night knowing that I worked hard. I also like seeing evidence of my effort, and seeing a garden bed that wasn’t there before is satisfying.

Not the most scenic photo ever taken, but these are some my my compost hauls.
I'm not some china doll, watching from the sidelines. I'm there to make a difference! 

The farm is within earshot of ranches, so we heard horses whinnying and a rooster crowing. We saw an egret on the hunt, and a ruby-throated hummingbird whizzing toward Lisa’s bird feeder again and again.

As I shoveled I asked Lisa whether she came from a family of farmers and why she moved to San Diego. Here are a few of my questions and her answers:

Sarah: When did you start farming on this land? 

Lisa: I started this project six months ago, in July of 2019. By this coming July, this will be a jungle!

Sarah: What’s your vision for the farm? 

Lisa: I have ten foot by four foot garden beds, and I envision vining produce growing eight feet tall. There will be eighteen circular garden "rooms" around the perimeter of the farm. Each room will be twelve feet across and will have curved walls, with produce growing up the walls and onto the chicken wire ceiling. You will be able to walk through each room to the next one. 
Each room will have its own mix of produce. 

Sarah: What are you growing right now?

Lisa: Presently there are tomatoes, spaghetti squash, artichokes, red chard, kale, papaya, parsley, oregano, thyme, chives, tarragon and guavas growing.

Sarah: You’re retired, but you’re not interested in slowing down. What made you decide to gear up for a really full future, including building a farm from scratch?

Lisa: This is a not-for-profit CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) farm. People are invited to experience the farm with field trips, picnics, cooking demonstrations and volunteering to maintain the farm. I want to feed people who are struggling due to food shortages in San Diego County. I want to provide them with high-nutrient foods so that they can be healthy and build a positive future. The walkways I have marked throughout the farm are wide, and so people using wheelchairs can come into the farm and experience it, too.

Sarah: What are some of the reasons people have given for wanting to come volunteer on your farm?

Lisa: They all just like to help. Many want to learn about farming. Some do it to get some fresh air and exercise. At least two volunteers were new to town and wanted to connect with others.

Sarah: Your farm is still in the beginning stages, but it already has such a creative and personal feel to it. Among other things, you’ve created a patio “room” in the middle, bordered by potted trees and plants of all kinds.

Lisa: Yes, I wanted to create a private area to sit and the trees help with privacy. My walls include potted Norfolk Island Pines, which I brought with me when I moved from Seattle years ago. Surrounding the garden “room” I have ornamental plants.  

Sarah: This farm is not large but it still is a lot of land to nurture. It takes courage to do this.

Lisa: Well, I come from a very entrepreneurial family. I was born in upstate New York, where my family had a horse and Christmas tree farm. My dad was a professional artist and when I was two years old we moved to Cape Cod, where my parents opened the largest art gallery on Cape Cod.

Sarah: One common thread in your family’s endeavors is risk. Being a farmer is risky. There’s a lot that is out of your hands. Being an artist is hard. Opening a gallery was another chance your parents took. They were not afraid to try something others would label as too uncertain. I like that you absorbed from your family that taking a chance was allowed. I think it led you to where you are now, dreaming big, rather than counting reasons not to build this farm.

Lisa: My family always had a garden. Many years ago, I decided to move to San Diego. My son was leaving for college and I was ready for a change. San Diego is the ideal place to live, year-round. I like this farm. I love watching all the birds fly overhead. This area has a huge variety of birds because it is adjacent to the Tijuana River Estuary, a protected wetland where migratory and wintering birds make their homes.

Sarah: Can I come back in a few months and see how the farm has continued to change and grow?

Lisa: Yes. There is going to be a lot of growth in the coming months. I’m excited about the future of this farm: growing food, sharing with others and eventually bringing the community together for events at the farm.

Discoveries

I discovered a delightful surprise a few days ago and decided it would be a great topic for my first blog of the summer.

To my surprise, June passed without my blogging even once. In the last seven years I never skipped a month of blogging and skipping June feels like the equivalent of ditching a final exam— uncomfortable! But there are times when your brain is too tired to do extra stuff. The school year exhausts me as a parent, and by June 14, I was going on fumes. So I read and rested and did stuff with my kiddos. Now, suddenly it’s almost mid-July. But the funny thing about blogging is that it’s there when you’re ready to return. If you do it just for fun, as I do, you don’t have an impatient editor breathing down your neck, so you can return to it when you feel inspired. And a few days ago I became inspired.

 

On Saturday morning I was out walking and I discovered something amazing. I was in the Bay Area for the wedding of Ian and Maia, one of my closest friends. That morning I took a walk, looking for Robson-Harrington Park, which I’d found on my phone. When I walked into the park, I was very surprised to see irregular brick walls undulating up a hillside. What was this? It looked abandoned, and I was intrigued. Immediately I thought of a book my daughter is reading this summer, The Secret Garden. It’s one of my favorites, a book I’ve read at least twenty times. In the book, a sad little girl finds the key to a garden that has been locked for a decade. She spends months working in the garden and this strengthens her body and her soul. Although the brick walls of the garden I found were not behind a locked gate, the garden still felt like a secret discovery because I hadn’t expected it.

The bricks were old and they had ceramic decoration laid into the walls. A few things were growing, like artichoke plants, each topped with colorful purple spikes. It was a surprising sign of life in a spot that looked like it hadn’t been touched in years.

I had to know more. I kept wandering through the labyrinth of brick walls, and soon discovered that there were garden plots full of living things. It was a community garden. There were sunflowers, leeks, succulents, fruit trees, tomatoes, roses, grapes, squash and flowers of every color. I saw daisies as small as a fingernail and dahlias as large as melons. Beyond the garden, redwood trees soared into the sky. Simultaneously I felt a sense of peace and excitement. This isn’t breaking news, but being in nature is tremendously healing. Surrounded by things that grow, I felt soothed and renewed.

Soon I saw two people working in one of the gardens. I asked about the walled areas that looked abandoned and one gardener said that these areas had been orchards at one point. In many ways, this garden seemed like something created in another time. It didn’t feel like a new project, plotted with square corners and precision. It felt like it grew right out of the hillside with its curved walls, irregular twisting paths and natural flow.

 

Discovering the garden recharged me. The day before I’d been a mess of nerves, stewing about the past and anxious about the future. So finding the garden that morning was wonderful timing. The plants were just doing what plants do, but being around growing things gave me a sense of hope. It made me feel stronger about things that had been troubling me. Gardens begin from tiny seeds—things that only need a little bit of water and sun to grow strong—and finding the secret garden made me feel stronger, too. (Thank you, garden.)

After I left the garden, I walked through the winding roads of San Anselmo. It was a quiet, hot July morning. I sweated and walked, sweated and walked. Wisteria vines tumbled over fences and there was a tree house nestled into tall redwood trees. Eventually I found my way back to the Air BnB we rented and before all my observations left me, I wrote notes about the garden on a paper plate, as I hadn’t brought writing paper with me when I packed. (If you bring paper on a trip, you may not feel inspired. If you don’t bring paper on your trip, you’ll have a blog post write itself in your head while you walk, and you’ll find a paper plate at the rental studio and you’ll lay on the comfy rental bed, sweating, with the fan on, and you’ll write, write, write because the ideas are flowing.)

My time in the garden helped me summon the courage later that day to get up in front of 120 wedding guests and give a tearful toast to one of my closest friends for the last 32 years. I didn’t wait until I felt 100% ready—that will never happen!—but I decided that if I walked toward the microphone, I’d do it. Getting to the microphone was harder than the talking part. I got choked up but I kept going, because close friends are gifts, and honoring a close friend on her wedding day is worth pushing myself.

What a meaningful weekend it was, being with Maia on her wedding day. And finding a community garden by chance—and finding strength in that surprise garden. Funny, I suppose you could find strength anyplace. Maybe you could find courage in a 7-11, or in a junk yard. In a dirty public bathroom. Anywhere! Maybe it just takes something kind of random to give you the extra push you need.

I’m so glad that my wandering walk took me to a place that inspired me, surprised me, and strengthened me. We all need that, and discovering it by accident makes the gift even more meaningful because it’s almost like the solution finds you. Maybe a lot of answers to problems can be found in gardens (or maybe it’s that my brain stops squawking at me in gardens and allows the answer to come to the surface). Funny, isn’t it? You fret and worry and plan and scheme and come up empty-handed. And when you’re least expecting it, the answers find you…

Farm Fresh Fun

Llamas and tires and berries, oh my!

(Did you catch the reference? Lately we’ve been watching The Wizard of Oz a lot at our house.)

We visited a farm today and there were llamas and tires and berries (oh my).

Well, one llama. (But this is more llamas than I usually see each day/week/month.)
We saw big tires. These tractor tires were probably four feet across.
Berries? Fields of them. Blackberries, blueberries and strawberries.
Welcome to Stehly Farms Organic in Valley Center, CA, north of San Diego.

I was giddy with glee at the farm. It’s always fun to go somewhere different, and to learn about how they do what they do. I had tons of questions for the owners. Why do they do this? When do they pick that? Do they use machines for picking? How many acres are there? David, who oversees the vegetable growing at Stehly, laughed and called me a questionsaholic, which I accepted as the compliment he clearly intended it as. Yep, I have a thirsty mind and I drank in all the sights, smells and sounds at the farm. I grew up in Los Angeles, so it’s safe to say I wasn’t nose to snout with pigs. There were no tractors or rows of corn. So farms fascinate me.

These days I participate in a local community garden, and it gives me a lot of satisfaction to grow a few tomatoes and to watch in wonder as friends grow vegetables and flowers from A to Z. I find it challenging to deal with the weeds in my garden bed, and to know how much water the plants need or which soil amendments to try. And this is in a 5’ x 10’ garden bed! I can’t imagine how much work (both physical and mental) goes into running an organic farm. I was happy as a pig in muck. How often does a suburban gal like me get to see goats and sheep? Or pick her own oranges and blueberries?

This was a school field trip, a day of fun mixed with a few lessons about farming. The kiddos watched co-owner Noel Stehly demonstrate Hass avocado grafting. He showed how to graft a piece of bud wood onto the seed tree to turn a non-producing avocado tree into one that produces. It was science meets live theater: we learned something and it was entertaining, too. Moments like this bring science lessons to life. I love the passion you see and hear when the Stehlys are talking about what they grow.

Wherever I go, I have lots of questions about why things are done as they are, and about who, what, when and where. So before co-owner Jerome Stehly had taken his first breath I was throwing questions at him about the farm. How big is it? It’s approximately 278 acres, with 200 of them being used to grow crops. I asked about what their biggest crop is (it’s avocado) and how many people work full-time at the farm. I had questions about the berries and critters and coyotes and what it takes to get a lemon to market. We sampled fresh squeezed Valencia orange juice (delish) and watched a boxing machine fold and hot glue cardboard rectangles into boxes, lightning fast. We watched animals and learned techniques for picking oranges and how they water 200 acres of crops. (Not with a watering can.) Each tree has its own sprinkler head. There are wells at Stehly Farm (1200 feet deep) as well as springs. There are plenty of machines at the farm but every single crop is picked by hand. The animals on the farm help out a lot. It was a science lesson in practice. The owl boxes at the farm house owls, who keep the gopher and rat population down, which allow the crops to grow. The sheep graze on weeds. Good insects eat bad insects who otherwise would eat up all the crops. (Boy, there’s a lot to this farming biz!)

Want to know what they grow there? This is not a complete list but here are some of their crops: asparagus, avocados, blackberries, blueberries, chard, corn, dragon fruit, garlic, grapefruits, kale, lemons, limes, onions, oranges, pomegranates and strawberries.

I want to do paintings from the photos I took at Stehly Farms today. It was a fantastic experience: being out in nature, seeing things grow at this huge scale, and learning from the people who oversee it. It takes science to grow things but it also takes a lot of heart. It takes passion and commitment and energy. What a delight to spend part of a day on a real farm. I think this city girl actually may be part farmer. Now where are my overalls?