Red Cedar
More apocalypse, less angst
In the Bookshed: The Layered Garden
I haven’t done a Bookshed Review for ages – mostly owing to the fact that when I’m reading and writing for school, I don’t have room for much else. But since its term paper time, and I’m procrastinating – not to mention dreaming that spring will one day come again – it feels like a good day to talk about The Layered Garden: Design Lessons for Year-Round Beauty from Brandywine Cottage by David L. Culp (published by Timber Press, September 2012).
Normally I don’t go for coffee-table-esque garden books (I tend towards practical guides) – but Culp manages to pull off something quite special with this charming ramble in which he combines the stunning photography of Rob Cardillo with personal narrative and useful garden advice. Specifically, his photos and text focus on the creation of gardens that retain beauty and “peak moments” throughout the year.
Using his Brandywine Cottage as an example, Culp walks the reader through the various aspects of the 2.5 acre garden he has co-created with his partner Michael Alderfer. Starting off with a chapter on the concept of the layered garden – the combinations of plantings that allow for a garden that always has something to offer – he moves onto a chapter that focuses on specific features of his own creation, and then follows that with a section that explores what each group of plantings do in each season. Each part is rich with photographic examples, tips, anecdotes and how-to information as Culp imparts his years of gardening wisdom in an read that maintains a straightforward and yet intimate approach throughout. (Here I should mention that garden-writer Adam Levine supported Culp’s writing process – and I hazard to guess, that it is his polish that helps the prose along).
Having lived in the Urban Crow Bungalow for just over three years now, I have finally begun to shift my focus away from the backyard, which serves the purpose of being a spring and summer garden (food producing, flowers, fruit trees, aesthetic hanging out space) – to the front yard, which I would like to have year-round appeal. When moving into a new place, as Culp mentions, it takes time to determine what each garden space should be and how it will work with the desired aesthetic of the home. While we only have a small city lot to work with – there are still several mini-gardens at play – and I have not (by a long shot) got the details down on each of them yet! Using some of Culp’s plant advice, I have already begun to think more about the winter aspects of our garden, and currently have a focus on evergreens and late-blooming shrubs that I would like to build on as I fill in the “missing” pieces year-by-year. In particular, I appreciate his approach to each area by theme such as the ruin garden, or the “jewel box” which allows the focus on a specific aesthetic in each group of plantings.
If you are thinking about a holiday gift for the gardener in your life, this is certainly a worthwhile book for the gardenshed. A book to dream away the winter with, while waiting for the onset of a new spring of planting.
Where I live…..
Babies are less frustrating than governments……
Photo today is of my niece Grace – who I think is about the cutest thing ever at the moment. At ten months, she’s past the crying-all-the-time stage and now communicates mainly through smiles and random noises. She’s pretty awesome.
Looking at this picture, helps me to erase the stress caused by the fact that for nine days now my work-computer has been in the IT shop for what is a basic system reinstall. Nine days! And they tell me it’s going to be another two, or maybe it won’t be until next week, but they don’t really know. What I know? If they had given me the tools (like an operating system install disk) I could have wiped the drives clean and reinstalled that system myself and it would have taken one day. One day! Not eleven.
So people – this is what short-staffing, layoffs and “centralization” of service in the federal government look like. It means that for several days I have had limited capacity to do my job – testing software for my team, developing templates for our new website, working on information architectures for new web sections – because I do not have the machine on which all my information is stored, and on which my software and drive mapping is available.
(I was offered a “loaner” laptop – five years old and without the software I need – but what’s the point? Instead I’ve been desk-surfing since last week and occasionally bringing in my own personal laptop so I can at least do email (that is, if I go downstairs to the coffeeshop to get wifi; I’m not allowed to hook my personal laptop into the network).)
Really, what’s frustrating? It’s all about the privatization game – that’s where a Conservative government like ours wishes to privatize something like IT services and so they force them to the breaking point by cutting back and reorganizing them in untenable ways. At this juncture we’re all so fed up that we welcome IBM or whatever company gets the bid… and then the costs poured into IT services immediately go up again because that private company can just keep jacking up its price in order to “meet service levels”. It doesn’t save the taxpayer money of course….
But. Baby pictures! And of course, I am filing a formal complaint about staffing levels. Because I can’t say nothing about it can I?
Design notebook: Raincoast Juliana
I’m three balls into the husband sweater now, and very pleased with the way the pattern is working. A combination of different stitches give the sweater a very pleasing texture that I didn’t expect when I looked at the pictures. A couple of ferry trips and a family visit later – and I’m 2/3rds done the back – hoping to have the whole back section finished by this evening after I get some homework and housework done!
While I was away my mother admired my Purplette Juliana – which I am utterly in love with. (I have now worn it twice, and it really is both a beautiful ornament and a practical shawl for keeping the shoulders warm.) She admired it so much in fact, that I have decided that will be my next project and hopefully in time for Christmas! I ordered the yarn from Sweet Georgia this morning – which can take up to four weeks because it is dyed-to-order. That gives me enough time to finish the husband sweater, while still leaving room before the holidays to get the shawl done.
Here are the colours for my mother’s Juliana (which I’m calling the Raincoast – these colourways are spruce and oceanside):
Beautiful, yes? And I’ve chosen the superwash merino option this time – both for ease of care, and because it will be softer than the nylon/wool blend sockyarn I used before (chosen because it was what was on offer at my local yarn store). Even though I’ve just completed this very pattern, I find myself excited to do it over in a different colourway – which just goes to show how much I love this particular piece.
The husband sweater.
Last night/this morning, I laid down a row of foundation double-crochet to start a sweater for my dear B. Having now completed a first sweater for myself, I can conceptualize what goes into such a yarn-commitment and have decided that yes, definitely, my partner is definitely worth it!
But what about the sweater curse?
Those of you who don’t crochet or knit probably don’t know about the “sweater curse“. This particular piece of knit-lore maintains that starting a sweater for one’s significant other pretty much spells the end of the relationship. Some people say that this only applies to boyfriends, but others maintain it always applies, no matter the status of the relationship. Over at the wikipedia article I linked to above, there are several rationales provided that explain the real-world mechanics of what’s behind this belief. I tend to think that a lot of what has fueled the superstition – particularly where boyfriends are concerned – is that making a sweater for someone implies a certain level of commitment that the other person may not be ready for (and thus bails, before the sweater is finished).
In order to dispel myself of the myth in embarking upon this project, let’s look at the other reasons it might apply (and dispel them one-by-one).
- Unlucky timing. While it’s true that crocheting a sweater takes some time, I can’t imagine our relationship is on its way to doom in the next month. We’ve been together five years. Things are awesome. Brian will have his sweater by Christmas. All is good.
- Rescue mission. Nope, I do not subconsciously sense our marriage is over. It’s awesome all the time!
- Catalyst for analyzing the relationship. I think B and I spend a lot of time assessing our relationship already – and we both agree. It is awesome!
- Aversion. I was worried about whether B. would really want a handmade sweater, because not everyone likes hand”knits”, or wool garments. Turns out he is stupidly excited by the prospect of getting a sweater from me. And he’s not just faking either (I can tell).
- Misdirected attention. Our relationship is awesome! (Have I said that already?) I really do try to make sure that no matter how obsessive I am about making stuff, B. gets lots of my attention too. One of the reasons I want to make things for him is so he can have my attention in my “make” space as well as in other ways.
- Delusion. Nope. I don’t think for a second I’m deluded about our relationship. We’ve been together more than five years, we’re crazy about each other, and we work hard at making every day special for each other even after all this time.
- Limit of Human Gratitude. B. brings me coffee in bed every single morning. As far as I’m concerned, crocheting him a sweater barely touches that in terms of commitment level to another person.
Really, this is the first time I have made more than a scarf or small household object for B., and it feels like the right time. I’ve got some good crochet-skills going on, I have an idea of what would suit B., and I really want to make him something both practical and loving that is just for him.
So sweater curse? I think the awesomeness of my marriage mitigates the potential for sweater-making to damage our love. Fingers crossed, eh?
Red Cedar 