Getting ready for some visitors

On Thursday I noticed that the weather forecast for Sunday predicted highs in the 80s. We'd been talking about having some people over to see the changes to the house and cooler weather — even the possibility — seemed like enough reason to make a plan. So we've invited quite a few people over for Sunday evening and it looks like, even on such short notice, quite a few will be able to make it.

So, of course, I started worrying about the state of the garden (not to mention the many unfinished projects inside the house). The garden actually looks surprisingly good, given the lack of attention it received this spring and early summer and especially considering the time of year. I usually completely abandon it in July and August, returning in September or whenever the first cold front blows through to pull out or cut back everything that hasn't survived and to try to restore some order. But with our new accessible, even unavoidable, view of the upstairs garden, I've been watering more and plucking weeds, cutting back some of the overgrowth.

But with the idea of people actually coming over and seeing it all, I couldn't help indulging in just a bit of the plant shopping I avoided — or was denied — all spring. I stopped by Gardens on my way to Silk Road (fabric for curtains in D's office) and bought an echeverria "Jelly Beans," that I've had in the past. I think I let it freeze one winter. I potted that up in the square zinc pot that's been empty for a while and set it up on a galvanized bucket on the steps.






I also bought a couple of 4-inch purple fountain grasses at Home Depot that I stuck at either end of the new bed in front of the covered porch. They're looking a little lonely (and I think Buddy laid on top of one of them or peed on it or something because it's looking a bit limp). But that will have to be it for now, I guess. Other than a bit more weed pulling and trimming. And maybe a bougainvillea I saw at the Great Outdoors yesterday to replace the quite drought-stunned salvia gregii in the pot out by the front steps. Nothing more. Really.