Jun. 1st, 2014 03:23 pm
The rewards of contumacy
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muckefuckSo it only took three years, four phone calls, five or six different employees, and countless visits, but I finally managed to purchase a Kerria japonica 'Pleniflora' from Gethsemane. The past week was a microcosm of their ongoing failings: Last Tuesday we stopped by to buy plants for the hanging baskets, so I went over to Trees & Shrubs to ask about the 'Pleniflora' I saw listed on their website. The one guy there knew nothing--not even where to find his boss. He offered to have her call me, but since that's never worked before, I took her number and called her when I got home. Yes, they still had two in stock, could I come by today? Yeah, no, could they hold it for me? Yes, but only for two days. When I returned on Thursday and the guy stationed there failed to find it, I wasn't even angry, just resigned.
Eventually, though, we did manage to lay our hands on it; for my trouble, I was given a 10% discount which, in the City of Chicago, amounts to forgiving the sales tax. I was anxious to put it in the ground, but placing it where I wanted it meant shifting at least two other plants, so I decided to wait until Saturday morning, which was supposed to be cooler and drier than Sunday. I swapped out the boxwood and the hostas and--while I was at it--transplanted the barberry to the side of the house.
Sounds simple, and--given the nice loose sandy soil we have in front--it would've been if not for the cursed maple roots. The largest one I had to hack through was the diametre of a gradeschooler's wrist. The roots attached to it were so intertwined with those of the hostas I couldn't separate them and ended up having the rebury the whole mishegoss. I expected the process to wreck my back, but soaking it in the tub afterwards seems to have helped, since it didn't start hurting in earnest until this morning.
That the barberry is still alive is something of a minor miracle. Two years ago, it had died back to a single stem and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu wanted to junk it, but I stood up for it. Despite last summer's drought and one of the worst winters in two decades, it's flourishing now; I hope it will do even better in a sunnier, more sheltered space.
Buoyed by the lack of lumbar pain, I turned my attention to the sunny end of the hellstrip. We have a clump of lilies-of-the-valley and a clump of variegated ornamental grass and I like to turn each of these into more of an edging. Unfortunately, the soil right along the sidewalk hardly merits the name: it's practically solid clay. Digging it out was like fighting wet cement, so I stop after transplanting only four or five lilies. If they take, I can always return and fill in the gaps with more. Meanwhile, the grass will just have to wait.
Eventually, though, we did manage to lay our hands on it; for my trouble, I was given a 10% discount which, in the City of Chicago, amounts to forgiving the sales tax. I was anxious to put it in the ground, but placing it where I wanted it meant shifting at least two other plants, so I decided to wait until Saturday morning, which was supposed to be cooler and drier than Sunday. I swapped out the boxwood and the hostas and--while I was at it--transplanted the barberry to the side of the house.
Sounds simple, and--given the nice loose sandy soil we have in front--it would've been if not for the cursed maple roots. The largest one I had to hack through was the diametre of a gradeschooler's wrist. The roots attached to it were so intertwined with those of the hostas I couldn't separate them and ended up having the rebury the whole mishegoss. I expected the process to wreck my back, but soaking it in the tub afterwards seems to have helped, since it didn't start hurting in earnest until this morning.
That the barberry is still alive is something of a minor miracle. Two years ago, it had died back to a single stem and
monshu wanted to junk it, but I stood up for it. Despite last summer's drought and one of the worst winters in two decades, it's flourishing now; I hope it will do even better in a sunnier, more sheltered space.Buoyed by the lack of lumbar pain, I turned my attention to the sunny end of the hellstrip. We have a clump of lilies-of-the-valley and a clump of variegated ornamental grass and I like to turn each of these into more of an edging. Unfortunately, the soil right along the sidewalk hardly merits the name: it's practically solid clay. Digging it out was like fighting wet cement, so I stop after transplanting only four or five lilies. If they take, I can always return and fill in the gaps with more. Meanwhile, the grass will just have to wait.
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