BoomerGirl Diary

November 2007 Today I got accepted by the North Marin Water District to be one of the five selected homeowners in their “front lawn removal project.” The water district will help me get rid of my old parched lawn and I get to look like a concerned and responsible do-gooder. Score! My neighbors were curious in the past when they saw me in the bed of my pick-up truck in my red polka-dotted boots blasting my Ipod and shoveling aged horse manure into my yard. Now, with the ubiquitous rectangular front lawn missing from my suburban lot, they can rest assured they live next door to a Communist. I’ll have to send a Thank you card to Ryan Grisso at the Water District for having the good sense to choose me to be a green role model for our community. I won’t let him down. I’ll listen to all of his native and drought tolerant plant recommendations. Together we’ll show the community how each of us can responsibly support our local natural ecosystem by defeating one giant lawn at a time. Once others see how established natives and drought tolerant plants survive solely on rainfall and little summer water, they’ll be green with envy, and all the better for it. They’ll also see first-hand how most native plants actually perform better without fertilizer and are more pest-resistant while also providing nutritious snacks for hummingbirds, butterflies, bees, and beneficial bugs. Note to self: Remind that native plant whiz-kid, Ryan Grisso, to stay out of my spotlight and let ME take all the credit for this revolutionary idea. This is going to be a great project. I can just feel it!

December 2007 I met with Landscape designer, Matt Buchholz, from Suburban Habitat, for my front yard design consultation. As Matt took notes, I couldn’t help but notice his flawless handwriting. It looks just like the Helvetica font on my Mac. I was so entranced watching him write that I missed half of our meeting. I think we decided to have a circular Potager style front yard using recycled bricks, decomposed granite pathways and a birdbath filled with succulents. Just how did he write those letters so artsy and precise? Now I wish I’d paid more attention to penmanship at P.S.6 instead of drooling over Brian Lurie’s shiny hair.

January 2008 It’s winter and the front yard looks so dank and dismal. I’m irked by too many uninvited, non-gardener type holiday visitors unexpectedly stopping by and commenting, “Wow, you’d think something would be blooming in your yard, you, being a Master Gardener and all.” I explain a garden needs to rest and go dormant in the winter and so does a gardener. I’m still weary from my New Year’s resolution to wean myself off of sugar and caffeine, and distraught from their contrary remarks, so I pour the remnants from a bottle of Baileys into my morning coffee and go out to turn the compost pile. There, under the redwood trees, turning the dark crumbly organic matter with a pitchfork and sipping my Pete’s coffee, I come to the realization that it doesn’t get much better than this. And with that I instantly forgive. Matt comes to the house to take measurements of the front yard. The recent rains and windstorms have severely traumatized my yard. Matt probably wonders how I ever passed the Master Gardener exam? He starts talking about design elements: texture, color, pivot points, and then he takes out his notebook and starts drawing and listing names of plants which would do well in the new garden. Barry White music fills my head, and once more I’m mesmerized by his perfect handwriting. His pencil glides across the paper as he writes Ribes Sanguineum, Salvia mellifera, Rudbeckia californica and Fremontodendron. I choose Romneya Coulteri because I’m madly in love with this 6 feet tall drought tolerant plant and its summer flowers that resemble fried eggs. Matt recommends Blue-Eyed-Grass for the borders. I accept his recommendation, but in truth, I have no idea what it looks like. I agree because I like the species name ‘Quaint and Queer’. And I just have to see how he’ll shape his Q’s.

March 2008 Today, Matt’s crew and I excavated the 400 sq. ft. front lawn. Well, I actually just stood around and looked busy filming this historical day while serving lime popsicles. Yippee! I feel empowered by ending this codependent relationship with our lawn. I did all the work. I kept reading books and magazine articles on how to fix all the lawn’s problems. I did all the worrying, analyzing and processing. Out of desperation I took all sorts of seminars and workshops, but to no avail. All that son-of-a-turf did was sit there, self-absorbed, succumbing to rust and thatch while openly drinking more than it should have. I don’t need that. I’m a diva! I need all of my time and thoughts to be about ME. Sayonara huge summer water bill. One less sucker in your evil plot to destroy mankind. Tomorrow the crew will lay down four paths of decomposed granite and the brick work in the center circle. The design resembles a potager garden, which is a traditional French garden style where the plot is divided into quadrants, sometimes circular, and filled with flowers, vegetables or herbs. Mine will be filled with drought tolerant and native plants, with the exception of a few seasoned majestic English roses I just can’t seem to part with. I’m only ready to tackle one codependent relationship at a time.

April 2008 Today I tagged along with Matt as we visited Cal Flora and Emerisa Nursery to purchase the necessary natives. I’ve never seen so many plants in my life. After a few hours of plant shopping, I am exhausted but Matt keeps going strong. We walk around Emerisa Nursery for what seems like days and endless miles. After awhile, in between cooing over a columbine here and a penstemon there, I’m tired and envious of the cheery worker-bees driving around on their motorized carts. Matt places more and more plants on my red wagon and tells me to hurry up! It’s hot and sunny and I start to get cranky. Matt, however, wants to visit another nursery. I tell him that 4 hours of reading Latin nametags has drained all the horticultural joy from my botanically-obsessed brain. I tell him I need to stop or I’ll carjack a cart, and it won’t be pretty. I’m craving chocolate covered espresso beans, a sure sign I’m about to snap. We get back to my house and Matt methodically places a plethora of 4 inch and 1 gallon plants around the front yard. I sit on the front porch steps eating old chocolate bars while watching Matt so content in his dreamy design world. This is his last day here. The rest of the project is mine. I think about the next few weekends and all the work ahead of me. Digging, planting, adding drip emitters and mulch. For a moment I wish the old lawn was back; my therapist warned me I would second guess myself. The mounting anxiety makes me crave more Halloween chocolate. When was Halloween? Yikes this candy is old. The next day I start digging and planting. Over the course of the next few weekends I add drip emitters while pondering why laying out a drip system is never easy. It seem you always have to go back to the hardware store for one lousy piece, without which the whole project stalls to a standstill. All of a sudden you’re in plumber’s Hell! Is it a 5/8” or 3/4” tubing I need? Was it the 1/2 gallon per hour red emitter or 1 gallon per hour green drip emitters I ran out of? Oh wait, this store doesn’t carry color-coded emitters. They’re all black. Immediately I’m in an awful mood. Just when my brain is about to detonate from thinking too much about leaky pieces of plastic, my son comes out to the yard whining that he’s bored. I consider accidentally stabbing myself with a rusty garden stake so I can get off the project.

May 2008 I miraculously survive the next few weekends. Upon completing the groundwork I add a blanket of mulch and wait for April’s showers. They never come. Global warming wants to ruin my project! So I have to turn on the watering system even though it’s early spring. Within moments of turning on the drip system I find all my mistakes. Water is squirting skyward like a dozen Old Faithfuls. I take a deep breath and spend the next hour doing the repairs. I’m not upset though, because I actually have all the necessary parts (goof plugs) and that in itself is a miracle. Finally the project is completed. As I stand on my front porch secretly admiring my work, my teamster neighbor, New York Mike, stops by to yell over the fence, “Yo, Diva! Where’s your union card? I’m reporting you.” He asks how much money the “lawn-ejection” project set me back? I preface my response by reminding him the most important part is to hire a landscape designer, someone who has an artistic vision. Once you have the drawing and plant list you have some big choices to make. If you’re healthy, brave, patient and industrious you can do a lot of the digging and planting yourself. A project like this could set you back anywhere from two to ten thousand dollars, depending on the size of your lawn, your garden style (formal or informal) and how much of the physical labor you’re willing to do yourself. NY Mike looks around shaking his head and says he really likes it. I tell him I’m grateful to the designer, Matt, who created a natural balance, rhythm and unity to the front yard, something that was desperately lacking before. He tells me that all these weeks he’d assumed I had designed it myself, and that if I were a true diva, I wouldn’t give anyone else the credit. I would simply say thank you. “ Wow Mike, you’re absolutely right”, I say. “It is all about ME, isn’t it? I’ll never mention Matt’s name again. Thanks for the advice. Did they teach you that in teamster school?”