What Do You Think of This (Garden)?

Sometimes, I suspect that my mother doesn't like 84% of my design email fodder because she's crazy. How could it be any other way? The last few years have taught me I am unusual in that I truly cannot imagine that things I enjoy are anything other than objectively fantastic. Of course, I don't generally admit this to people.

Also, not sure about you, but I don't have a lot of chances to mull over art design with people. Maybe if I had more exposure, I'd be all "Oh, I can see how our opinions diverge".  Maybe my style would be more balanced and broader. Instead I'm rather committed to but a few things:

• Cleanness - I need a space to be actually clean-seeming but also visually undistracting.
• Colour - I like neutrals and wood tones but they usually don't cohere without deeper or brighter colours, IMO.
• Warmth - Cuz Canada...
• Architectural Intrigue
• Practicality - Show me some kind of ingenious, attractive space-saver any day...
• Elegance
• Light

I think most people like most of these things - they're all good, no? But maybe now's the time to broaden my horizons.

Question: When you seriously change something up, do you prefer the idea of sticking with what you know (which is naturally appealing) or hovering at the margins of your edgy self?

At any rate, let's move the design to the outside world today:

Landscape Design of Tom Stuart-Smith courtesy of DesiretoInspire

  
Kristin, what do you think of this? Um, simply that it is perfection. I love the controlled wildness. I can't say enough about the colour scheme - purples meet greens and yellows. The water feature is relaxing but also has an industrial feel. It is truly reflective. I think this space is beautifully proportioned given its size which is, admittedly, very large. I love its low profile, how it uses natural topography to find balance. I can smell the cultivated nature.

But what about you? What do you think? PS: Check out that link for some utterly spectacular photos.

Intended

When I moved into my home, 15 years ago, let's just say the greenspace was lacking. Those first years, which were financially restrictive (new kid, bigger mortgage, early career), left few resources to improve things. I had no innate or family perspective on how to create a beautiful outdoor space. (Growing up, there were people for that and, really, you know how I feel about the bugs.) But over the course of time, I found a landscape designer who spoke my plant language. I told her what I wanted to see and she created drawings that were - happily - a perfect expression of my vision: natural but not too natural, a greenspace of order (that seems a little bit wild). I wanted a few flowers at all times - but never too many. I needed easy-maintenance - have you seen my schedule lately??

It only took a week to plant and hardscape these gardens (and, for the front, only a day) but they have changed, waxed and waned, in ways that a home interior never will:

I know it's tough to see what's going on in this shot, but this is as much about the feeling of a sunny haven as about what your eyes can lock on...

In the spirit of feeling good about me, here's a photo in my new caftan. (What?! I'm 45 - I can do caftans and gardens with abandon, thank you very much!!)

That's the lilac (post-bloom) in the background. The mid-ground green is my insanely happy, post-bloom phlox. Those rose bushes are 1 year old and they've expanded in size by at least 10 times. You're seeing them after I cut them back substantially.

Honey locust and pergola. The pergola's shot after ground heave of the past 2 winters. We're going to need to rehardscape - but when, who can say. Remember, we've got to pull off the back of the house (2 floors) pretty darned soon. Let's not think about it.

I debated showing off the delightful bicycle parking garage that is my front porch but, whatevs. It's not like everyone who walks by doesn't see it... That tall cedar in the background was planted by Scott the year we moved in. Unfortunately, dogs have taken hold of the short round cedar in the foreground. I hope they don't kill it... There's a rock garden (always in a state of flux as delicate perennials do tend to die over the winter). But the sedum is happy.

Don't ask me the names of any of these things. Those are post-bloom irises in the background. The euonymous by the fence has been replanted 4 times in its 15 year (so far) life. It was unhappy everywhere else (its siblings died). The constant traffic of bees I've got hovering (in front) and butterflies (in back) is heartening. Note: Flying bugs don't bother me.

Very happy tall grass in the side bed with some of my neigbour's new plantings behind. I've been waiting 15 years for them to landscape and it finally happened this summer. They created a butterfly garden.

I have lost many plants over the years - the perfect flowering almond that blew its brains out on blooms that were unsustainable, the euonymous that couldn't stand the soil, the first honey locust - it just failed to thrive. The last two winters, particularly, have been very hard for this haven. But having gardens has taught me, viscerally, about the fleetingness of all things. One of the reasons why I love them...

Wherein I Discuss the Merits of Wealth (With Pretty Photos)

For those of you who've been reading this blog for years (yes, it has been that long), you may recall posts of the Parkdale-Toronto Horticultural Society walking tours I've attended on a few occasions. This unbelievable voyeur-fest, status-anxiety provoking charming annual event is a fantastic opportunity to observe rich people in their natural habitats well-loved gardens in some delightful Toronto west-end neighbourhoods. In truth, most owners are not available during the tour, which is staffed by hort society volunteers. Most owners are off at their zillion dollar waterfront cottages on Lake Rosseau. Cuz that's how wealthy Torontonians roll.

In truth, I've never understood how people can invest so much time and money on urban (albeit bordering on suburban) gardening only to ditch it all on the couple of days of the week (over the couple of months of the year) they can actually enjoy it with martinis. Mind you, undoubtedly most of these gardeners benefit from the assistance of professionals. Both here and up north.

As we wandered (skip down if this chatter bores you, there are some good photos ahead), Nicole and I discussed the utter embarrassment of luxury amidst which we walked. In our downtown 'hoods, any one of the insanely beautiful birches grafted with cherry or unusual willows (which generally only grow in zone 7) would have caused stop-in-your-tracks transfixion. In Baby Point (peeps, it's pronounced Bobby Point), we were practically dismissive by the end of it.

I don't know what my point is. Is it fortunate to live amongst ugly urban grit because one's tiny garden will then function that much more relevantly as a fantastic oasis? Have my brain cells been realigned by the drugginess of the old-boy, high-WASP experience?

You be the judge:

Yes, that is bamboo...

This willow almost died last year due to hot, dry summer. Massive pruning and this year's deluge of rain brought it back.

I know, this garden is just ridiculous. I counted and you could seat 30 people without even making a dent on the space. Oh, and it's on a ravine.

Scott loathes that visor I'm wearing. He says I remind him of a retiree. Might I remind you I'm on a horticultural tour on my 41st birthday?? Besides, I feel I look "tennis".

The Italianate aspects of this place were a bit mind-blowing.

Nicole looking all cute and summery... Thanks for spending such a great day with me N!