Well, dear readers, you may as well know the truth. This post was *strictly* supposed to be about my continued adventure with bamboo, but something got in the way. Yes, the rose fairies, and there you have it. I’ve said it straight out. What’s a girl to do? I tried to tell them this space was reserved for BAMBOO, but, no, they wouldn’t have it. And so after being plied by overwhelmingly intoxicating fragrances and colors that frankly made me swoon, and several attempts to explain the meaning of the words Out of Context, words that went softly sweeping into an offshore breeze, the letters falling like petals into the neighbors’ gardens, well, I finally succumbed to their overwhelming silent argument and here we are, a just truce. So you will notice our sublime agree-ment. They get top billing. (You can see why.) And then one paragraph (and perhaps a photo) for me, then a rose. And that’s how it is. The juxtaposition of the reds and greens of my current reality. Amen. Now on with my story, Bamboo/Part Two. What? Oh, all right. You’re right. It was a paragraph and it is your turn. (Isn’t this ridiculous?)

So the bamboo plot thickens! As now I have two bamboo plants, but not one I can use as a screen to replace the annoying ivy that covers the fence between my property and the one next door, thereby creating a privacy screen in support of my sunbathing propensities and my private yoga deck which is still in the planning stages. Thus my attention returns to the very neighbors in favor of replacing the ivy with bamboo, who are hoping against hope that the dreaded ivy will disappear (probably after decades of trimming it as it has crept through their fence, poor things), after realizing that they HAVE bamboo on their property! I must explore! I slip next door to speak with my neighbor, Dave, and there he is, working on a new fence, bless his heart.

(Oh, my, those roses creeping into everything! I would think that would count, wouldn’t you?)

“Dave,” I say, “I notice you have bamboo in your yard.”

“In the yard?” he says. “That’s not the yard,” his North Carolina roots informing his declaration. “That’s the creek! It’s just there to help prevent erosion along the creek.” (There is a good-sized creek running on the far side of their property.) Okey dokey. Let’s explore the bamboo along the creek. “It hasn’t gone anywhere in 35 years!” Dave declares. Ah. Then that would make it a clumping bamboo! Hallelujah. I suggest to my friend that the best way to learn about a plant is to work with it. This makes sense to him and I can see he is amenable. I come back with pruning sheers and gloves and work on the bamboo for about two hours, simply using my intuition to guide me. Dave kindly offers a tarp to catch everything I’m cutting down, and another larger pruning tool. I work carefully, as at the base of the bamboo is a very old entangled blackberry bush, wouldn’t you know it? And I have to walk out on an old bridge that spans the creek to reach some of the old dead branches of each.

Eventually I surrender, putting down all tools, and taking off my gloves and begin digging in with my fingernails to peel back the dried outer shell of the stalks (called culms)–to reveal the most beautiful pale green bodies underneath! Yay! Strikin’ it rich on the bamboo front! It reaches at some points about eight feet into the sky, culminating in a lovely variegated plume. Near as I can tell this bamboo that is relegated to “not part of the garden” but simply “erosion control” is actually quite valuable and I fully intend to learn what I can by helping to restore it, and then eventually transplanting some to our common fenceline. It is, in fact, a Godsend, and I’m grateful.

“I see you have a camera with you,” says Dave. “Did you see that rose down at the end of the driveway? You might want to take a look.” (See? They are everywhere, whispering in the ears of elderly men and tiny children, dogs and deer and all manner of beings, capturing our hearts and sights and reminding us of the full beauty of a spring finally come ’round.) “No, Dave, I will have to look into that.”

Love and many blessings,
Kathryn xoxo

Posted on April 29th, 2008 by Kathryn
Filed under: Plants | 24 Comments »

I’m in love. I don’t know why it took me so long to notice him. He’s so beautiful, so mystical, so enchanting, so romantic. He’s probably been trying to catch my attention for years, and I had no eyes for him. Now I do. He’s my Bamboo. What brought him to my attention was strictly pragmatic. I needed him. It all started when I was trying to figure out (just as an exercise, you understand) if there is any place in my back yard where I could sunbathe au naturale without being seen by any neighbors. It’s tricky. A little peek here. A little peek there. You know. Or some of you do, anyway. I finally isolated a small corner near the rose arbor where I figured if I exited in a robe, by the time I got to the arbor, I was safe to disrobe. Again, strictly theoretically. Just in case. Unfortunately that corner spoke up loud and clear as the Yoga Platform corner, so it’s been used up. So I was back to solving the problem of creating a better screen between this property and my next door neighbors, both in their seventies and dear as they can be. But let’s face it. Even though he might get a kick out of public nudity, she definitively would not. OK? When they heard I was interested in taking out the ivy that lines that particular fence and perhaps putting “something taller” in its place they both suddenly displayed enormous smiles on their faces. Handily, they have hated the ivy for years, for it sneaks through the fence and they “have to trim it.” (This is not the kind of thing they would ever volunteer on their own.) So now it’s a deal. The ivy goes out. And something tall must go in.

Inspired, I began to research plants that are used as effective screens and discovered bamboo. A bit more digging revealed, however, that a) bamboo is very pricey and b) it’s far away. It’s simply not that available here. You aren’t going to buy a five gallon bucket of the stuff for $25 bucks and watch it grow.

And of course there is the Running Factor. Would you believe people are filing lawsuits against neighbors who plant bamboo on their common fencelines? I guess it’s understandable. Perplexed, Philip at Philip’s Garden Blog kindly set me on the right path and told me to simply “buy a clumping bamboo.” I didn’t even know there was such a thing! But then I read that while clumpers don’t “go anywhere” to speak of, they can be (even) harder to divide. So I realized a runner might still be in order as long as I could properly contain it, in heavy plastic, metal, concrete, fiberglass, you get the picture. Apparently you cannot put a runner in terra cotta, as it will simply eventually split the pot, possibly at the most inopportune moment. Bam. Your bamboo explodes. Not a pretty picture. This is a mighty plant we are talking about, which I find utterly fascinating!

Contemplating all this I then discovered that Tierra, my local winetasting/art gallery, sells some plants from their lovely courtyard patio, and lo and behold, they had a beautiful very large full running bamboo that “lends itself to container growing” (I looked it up) called Sinobambusa Tootsik, or Chinese Temple Bamboo. You can imagine that called directly to my heart and soul, and so I purchased him straightaway, and he was delivered this week. He’s still not in his proper pot–I’m still shopping– but I do believe he will go into the whiskey barrel just to the right of him, so you will get the idea. This is a work in progress. Here he is! Isn’t he a beauty? I LOVE him!

What? What’s that? The little one in the red pot? Oh, you noticed. Yeah, well, yesterday I happily stumbled upon a clumping one for a really decent price, and there really was nothing to think about. It came home with me. So Tootsik is the Daddy and we have a little baby already. How cute is that?

And good thing! That woman at Friedman Brothers really knew her stuff. Here’s what I found out:

1. I have to make holes in the whiskey barrel. Yes, she knows I can see through the slats, but, hello, it’s a WHISKEY barrel, designed to hold whiskey, which obviously is a liquid. And liquids expand wood. I knew that. But, no, I haven’t thought much about whiskey barrels before, frankly. But I get it. So I have to get out my drill and make holes in the bottom.

2. As if that were not enough, you have to control the roots by putting the whiskey barrel up off the ground, like, with flagstone or bricks. She said when the roots inevitably sneak out, they will be looking for dirt, and if they find none, they will tend to dry up. There’s even a name for it! Air pruning! Who knew? (I know. I know. Half the gardening bloggers I know, but you will have to recall I’m self-taught and intuitive and random, etc. And, I’m also a work in progress, like everything else on planet Earth).

3. In addition I am to put gravel underneath the whiskey barrel to assist with drainage.

4. This is my fav. When the day comes it becomes obvious it has to be divided (and I will post when this day arrives, trust me) I have to get out my non-existent chain saw to divide the roots. I’m not kidding. I’m tellin’ ya’. This plant has a big destiny to have so much power in its dna. I’m so glad I’m going to have it around to learn from!

Further adventures to come!

Gardening blessings,
Kathryn xoxoxo

Posted on April 18th, 2008 by Kathryn
Filed under: Plants | 20 Comments »