I went, I saw, I got wet -- Backyard Farm Tour Day Two

With my own duty as official backyard farm host completed last Saturday, I set out the next day to see what others had growing.  Most of the tour stops on the second day were closer to actual farms than backyards.   I only made it to three before getting rained out, but they were pretty cool.

The first was a garden in an alley, behind a row of traditionally (boringly) landscaped newer homes on fairly small lots.   There are no backyards in this neighborhood, just an alley leading to garages.  The gardener, Natacha, fills every patch of dirt in the alley, and along the narrow spaces on each side of her house.  Here's the view from the entrance to the alley.   Can you spot it, beyond the second fence on the right?

first hints of something a little different:

Hey, look at that.....

Natacha's farm!

What these photos don't show is a long row of raspberries along one narrow side yard, and a packed potato patch filling the other, along with a couple of rogue zucchini plants hiding amongst the standard shrubbery in the front.  Birdfeeders, fountain and a big deck with planters full flowers and herbs complete the space.  Every square inch is edible.

With a thunderstorm looming overhead, I headed east to look at two herb 'farms'.  The first one, tucked into the back of a 1/2 acre lot (though it seemed much bigger), is still being created.   At one side is a newish vegetable/herb garden with a small greenhouse.

Across the yard stands a 50 foot hoop house, with sod clearing underway for a second house.   Are you sure this is only a half acre?

Under showery skies, I drove just a few blocks to another herbary, this one on a rocky, full acre lot.   A longer-established garden included raised beds, cloches, a large enclosed area for ducks and chickens, various sheds and greenhouses, all interwoven with native juniper trees and sagebrush and grasses.

I love seeing what other people plant.   Kale, strawberries, chard, and tomatoes are standard.   Along with the green beings, there were other denizens to be seen.  Chickens....

Bees .....

And my fellow tourers....

By this time thunder and lightning were right over the top of us.   After spending 15 minutes huddled under the porch of the house, I headed back to my car, parked nearly two blocks away, when the rain let up.   Before I got even halfway there, the storm redoubled its efforts, and despite my best sprinting form, I arrived at my car battered by hail and soaked to the skin.

At that point I decided to give up on the tour.  I was hungry and the storm cell covered miles and looked like it was here to stay (according to the next day's news reports, the storm generated over 7000 lightning strikes in our area that day and evening.)

  Besides, I had one more errand before I headed home.  

A special sale of fine pianos, onstage at the Tower Theatre downtown, needed visiting.  Pianos needed testing.  To a piano lover, even a wet one, there is no prettier sight than a crowd of shiny grands under lights.

 

They came, they saw, they asked questions -- Back Yard Farm Tour Day One

The 2013 Bend Backyard Farm Tour is history.  On a beautiful sunny Saturday, I had over 100 visitors to my 'farm'.   I was so busy I never had time to take a break, and didn't get 'lunch' until the last guest departed, a little after 4:00.

I was so busy I never even took out my camera, so I have no photos of the day -- sorry.  Just for the record, though, here is some of what they saw, under this morning's cloudy skies rather than the bright sunshine of Saturday.

The entrance to the back garden

leads to a large selection of nursery pots, full of perennials waiting to be transplanted into the front yard.   I think most people just thought they were colorful container gardens.   Shhhh

I will say that I was surprised by some of the questions I got.   I always expect to answer questions about tomatoes

and dealing with deer -- which I did.   A large percentage of my visitors each year are newcomers to Bend and/or gardening in general.  Most newcomers arrive from balmier and/or wetter areas such as Seattle, Portland, or California, and I share the usual caveats 'frost is possible any day of the year' 'add tons of organic matter, the soil here is mostly sand' and 'choose varieties for short season maturity'.   This year, though, I had a most unusual experience, when I got to tell newcomers from Paisley, Oregon (south and east of here, even drier and colder and higher in elevation than Bend), 'hey, you'll love it -- it's warmer and we have a longer growing season'.  

But I also found myself expounding on such random topics as:  why the big old weeping birch trees are dying all over town (they are being stressed by rising temperatures), the need to water trees and shrubs, especially newly planted evergreens in the winter (they frequently die over their first winter because when the cold, dry air dries out the foliage, the moisture cannot be replaced via the frozen soil) ...... best non-bee-attracting annual flowers for restaurant window boxes (how would I know, since I plant everything I can that attracts bees?!  ..... what to do for aphids and powdery mildew on lupine cultivars (take 'em out and plant native varieties which are never touched by either).   It's amazing what knowledge you pick up in 40+ years of gardening.

Of course I answered lots of questions about chickens,

 including 'what do you do to keep them warm in winter?' (nothing -- they have feathers and down that will protect them as long as they are dry and out of the wind), 'what kind are those spotted ones' (Speckled Sussex)

and 'why is that chicken in prison?' (because she has gone broody).

Also, does your cat attack the chickens?  (no, but they definitely keep an eye on each other)

Every year there is one plant in particular that for some reason intrigues people, and everybody asks about it.   One year it was asparagus -- most people have only seen the early spring sprouts that appear magically in grocery stores and don't recognize the beautiful ferny leaves of the mature plant.   Another year it was borage, which I allow to go to seed because I love the blue, star-shaped flowers, and so do the bees.

This year people did ask about the borage and the asparagus, but the big surprises were fruit trees ('you can grow fruit trees here?!')

and my favorite question:  'what is that flower that looks like an artichoke?' (it's an artichoke).

Overall, it was just fun to talk with a bunch of really nice, curious and often well-informed people, many of them experienced gardeners themselves.   Although there is a healthy locavore movement, and a recent crop of small farms raising vegetables and herbs locally, it seems many people still don't know much about how to raise their own food and are eager to learn.  I hope some of them went away with a spark of an idea to try a few kale plants this fall and next year.

Rebloggification

If a blogger doesn't blog, does anyone notice? Two months is a long time for anyone, especially Li'l Ned, to be silent. Changes in the garden, changes in life, inner changes. Though I am normally a fairly communicative person, when emotional waters run especially deep, I tend to hunker down and become hermitlike. We've had some big changes here in Arabella's Garden, in the last couple of months. Integration is still happening. It's all good, no worries --- but I've been pretty quiet on the blogosphere during that time.

All the more reason to get back and do some updates!

First, an apology of sorts.



When last we visited the garden, there was a *&^%$@#%^& deer in the middle of it, munching on the beans. Ned had some pretty hot words to say about the neighbor lady who feeds the deer. However, further research and journalistic honesty compel me to reveal that said neighbor is no longer feeding the deer. My apology is only half-hearted, however, since the deer are still around, cruising the 'hood in search of their former food supply. Grrrrrrrrrr......

Since then, we've had late season harvest:


early snow (again!):


fall hiking:




a bit of fun with the gang in the Ochocos:




miracle chickens!


and, most recently



Stay tuned for details.

Priorities

I recently read an online article in the (Portland) Oregonian entitled 'Fitting a piano into your home' which mentions some basic considerations for someone thinking about getting a piano for kids' or their own music study. As someone who has played piano for over 50 years now, I realize I have a slightly different take on this whole subject.

From the moment I first laid my hands on a piano at age 10, I have experienced my instrument as part of my essential being. Part of me, as in, in addition to my legs, arms, head, etc. there is my piano. The fact that it stands apart from my physical body doesn't seem to matter.

When I am away from home, I can be happily engrossed in all kinds of exciting, interesting, fulfilling and otherwise completely satisfying experiences ..... yet there is always something missing. I can't say how many times I have half-wished I had taken up the flute or violin or even something as 'small' as a cello, because I could have taken my instrument along on road trips, or even overseas travels. But only half-wished, because I adore the piano and like most pianists, think it is the best of all instruments.

However, a piano is not small. Even the shortest, crummiest upright piano is still 5 feet wide, at least 4 feet tall, and I don't know, 18" inches deep. When I was 15 my parents splurged on a tiny (5 ft), somewhat battered, 60+ year-old Carl Fischer baby grand for me. And once I survived the obligatory freshman year in the college dorm, I have figured out where to put a grand piano in every house I've lived in since, beginning with the $75/month, rotting duplex next to the freeway in my early married years and continuing up to my current medium-sized, 50-year-old ranch-style house.

The first 'house' we ever owned was a 10 foot wide, 50 foot long, very pink mobile home, perched on top of a hill in a logged-over redwood forest in Humboldt County, California. Although this homely trailer boasted real wood paneling inside, we owned no furniture except for the mattress on the bedroom floor (no bed)and the cheap 2-chair dinette set that came with it .......... and a baby grand piano. Priorities.

A few years into my piano teaching life, I was able to trade my beloved old baby grand for a nearly-new, 6 foot Yamaha. Now we were smokin'! And a couple of years ago, I welcomed piano number 2 into my home, fulfilling a longtime dream of having 2 grands! for playing ensemble music with friends, and for teaching. Here's the view from (inside the) home these days.

So my initial response to the title of the Oregonian article was, 'well, they have it backwards, don't they? It should read: 'Fitting your home around a piano'. Because of course the piano comes first. Priorities!