Sad/Happy

Some things over the Memorial Day weekend made me sad, like this little mansard buddy near Ohio and Sidney in St. Louis near St. Francis de Sales.  It's owned by Stanfield Investments and delinquent in taxes.

But the remainder of the weekend was filled with visually pleasing things.  Our girl scout troop had planned to go to the Junior Jamboree at Forest Park.  That event was cancelled due to low registration likely due to the fact the Girl Scouts had no publicity for the event, especially when compared to the PR overkill they are doing on the Big Day for Girls on September 22.  We are probably skipping the Big Day for Girls.  The 100 birthday bash was traumatizing and I am not sure I can handle that kind of crowd again, especially on a precious Saturday. 

Back to the picture.  Our troop (now Juniors!) went to Forest Park anyway with absolutely no plan.  And it was a good day.  We fed the ducks, played on the playground, took the Metro bus around the park and hung out at the History Museum where low and behold we had a campfire in front of a VW bus.  

And lots of other good stuff- bike racks, hydrangea, digging rocks.

These bike racks have been popping up everywhere.  I think they are handsome.

OMG.  Is there anything better looking than this year's hydrangea?  I have NEVER seen them this colorful.

BBQ at the neighbors where the local kids ruined a lovely landscaped garden by digging rocks to haul around in dumptrucks.  Sorry Jen!

the Climb, taxes and weeds

Usually our weekends are packed solid with activities and social events. This weekend was a little different thanks in part due to my oldest daughter Kay breaking her big toe and therefore unable to play soccer until April.

On Saturday my husband juggled Gus' karate and Audrey's last basketball game. I did Master the Met, a stair climb up 40 flights in St. Louis' tallest building Metropolitan Square. My song of choice to get me to the top was the Chemical Brothers Container Park from the movie Hanna. Unfortunately, a crappy Hannah Montana song kept making its way into my head- the Climb.

Despite the dueling Hanna(h) songs, I made it to the top in 8:40. I was pleased with my time and ranking- 232nd out of 1000 and 14th in my age group (40-49, thank you very much).

Sunday I caught up on two terrible things that are inevitable every spring: weeds and taxes. I hit the yard first knowing it would rain in the afternoon. Those weeds were as bad as I've ever seen them in early March. It never got cold enough for them to be killed off. I think they've been growing full force since the summer.

I wish to share with you my little time saving trick. When I weed I throw the debris on a giant tarp that one would use for camping or painting. Then drag the tarp with all the leaves/weeds/sticks/pine cones/trash/condom wrappers/broken Mardi Gras beads/cigarette packs to the dumpster. Pull up the corners of the tarp like you're making a dumpling. Unload the debris and start all over again. It took me 5 trips.

Much cheaper than using the brown garden bags.

I am going to be sore on Monday but I will be in better shape- body, garden, taxes.

If you've seen Hanna, you know exactly why I would have picked Container Park for a climb. If note, watch the trailer/song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kFBu0LZLG4A

Bad mansard featured in St. Louis Post Dispatch

What happens when you put a boxy mansard atop a cute south city cottage? This. Read the August 27 article in the Post Dispatch by clicking here.

According to the article, the homeowners added the mansard to add more square footage to the house. It would have been more attractive to leave the original roof and park a mobile home in the back yard.

That said, the window box and garden are so cute I am going to forgive the roof.

I have gotten numerous citizen's bad mansard arrest warrants on this. Thanks to Patsy, Amy and Jeff for letting me know about this one.

Note- this picture is from the Post Dispatch. Betcha didn't know Badmanard has degrees in law, journalism and amateur architecture. Do you subscribe to the Post? You should. Print journalism is becoming a lost art. That, and all the good coupons are in the Sunday paper.

Badmansard weekend

Scenes from the badmansard weekend. Friday night we had a pool party for the 2nd and 4th grade GirlScouts atthe LafayetteSquare Bath and Tennis.

In our garden, the

Southern Magnolia re blooming. The bloom is lovely, but with the bloom comes shedding of big, crispy brown magnolia leaves. I pay the kids a nickel a leaf

to pick them up. THe other plant picture is my tree lawn (the strip of plantings betwe

en the sidewalk and

street). White Shasta daisy, purple sage, knock out roses.

Saturday featured a Crawfish boil. Good times were had by all. Fortunately, we put our collective parenting foot down and told the kids there would be no crawfish pets taken home from the party. And imagine my surprise when we arrived home- not soon thereafter the naked bike ride went by our house. In fact, there was a collision pile-up of nakeds!

Finally, Sunday was learn to play hock

ey at Affton, the only time we left the city limits. Gus calls this his hockey face.

Ode to the hosta

Don't know what I'd do in the bad mansard garden without the mighty hosta. We have multiple types all over the place; I think this one is a Frances Williams variety.

I love them when they are at this stage of growth. Just leafing out and so full of potential. Wanna split them into two new plants? Go for it. Do you think they'd look better in another spot in the yard? Go ahead, dig them up and move them. They won't care.

The hosta starts strong and loses is steam as the summer progresses. By the end of the summer they'll look haggard. The slugs, hail, dogs, kids and sun will reduce them to floppy, yellowing Swiss cheese. And then they'll die down and start the process all over.

Dare I say I find the hosta motivational? Every summer they get stomped, sun scorched and torn apart. And every spring they come back happy and ready to go.

Hosta are a good lesson in life. Every day something will stomp and scorch you a little. Take a rest, refresh and plan a comeback. And be sure there are hosta in your garden.

What is French for "crazy guy on PCP turned over the dumpster in the alley"?

On Monday night I was shuffling around the 1st floor doing my routine- preparing as much as possible for the next day- backpacks, lunches, snacks, dishwasher, cereal bowls, retainer cleaner, dog food, mail, etc. Really the only thing I don't do to make school mornings easier is to have the kids sleep in their uniforms, although I have done that in the winter with shirts. Anyway...

Around 11 pm I hear the dumpster noises. Noises that would suggest the dumpster is being hoisted up into a of St. Louis Refuse Department trash truck. So I says to myself, "maybe it's part of the new trash department budget cuts- run trash trucks at night to save money..."

But the trash trucks don't say "you're a bitch! you're a bitch! Bitch!" Which makes me think some shirtless hoosier is fighting with his beer bellied, chicken legged, chain smoking girlfriend. Which does happen here in the 63104. So I look out the window and for a split second I see a guy with crazy eyes walking by the house. Seconds later, he starts to argue with a guy walking two small fancy dogs. More "you're a bitch!"

And my cat jumps out of the bushes and gets called a bitch too.

Guy-with-dogs sees me in the curtains and tells me to call the police. So I do. I tell describe dumpster guy as "violent" "erratic" and "behaving strangely" and soon many 3rd District police officers are cruising up and down the street.

All the neighbors came out and a debriefing was held. What we know: the dumpster/bitch caller was alone and turned over a dumpster onto my house. The guy with the dogs told him to stop. Dumpster guy called him a bitch and yanked the cell phone from dog-guy and smashed it.

ALthough I did call the police within seconds, I feel like I should have done more. Get a better description of dumpster guy. Go out on the sidewalk and assess the situation. Yell out the window that the police were being called. But like my description suggested, he was erratic and probably on some kind of violent drug so I didn't.

I'm very used to odd-balls walking around this neighborhood and they don't freak me out. This PCP/angel dust dumpster/bitch guy was different. He turned a dumpster over by himself, then called the dumpster, a dog walker and my cat a bitch.

Now the wait begins: how long will my dumpster remain toppled against my house.

The second photo is my street-lawn looking at its best right now. The roses need a serious pruning, but lovely right now.

Jardin!

This is my garden and it has very little to do with bad mansards.  I usually post stuff like this on my 63104mom tumblr but it's hard to upload multiple images on tumblr.  I was a garden downer earlier this season.  "I don't even care...it's an ugly mess....just rip it all out and let's put down tacky red foamy mulch."  A weekend with pruning shears and a shovel made a big difference.  Once the flowers start going I feel rewarded and motivated.  Also rewarding:  compliments from the neighborhood folks (who have tremendous gardens) and drivers slowing down to take a look.    Here is the standard purple palace coral bell with pachysandra (spurge)

Full disclosure:  I grew up in the horticulture business.  My uncle David owns Sherwood's Forest, your source for big trees and awesome perennials.

It would seem I have a thing for hostas and heuchera (coral bells).  About hostas:  divide those mothers up!  I split mine frequently.  Part the leaves (just like you'd part your hair) and split it in half.  I like a Henckels bread knife for cutting the rootball.  Replant the other half wherever you'd like a new hosta.

I also have a thing for boutique Japanese maples.  The top Jap is a standard upright, but the one on the bottom is a pinkish Full Moon (I think that's what it's called, but that's also the name of sushi so maybe I've confused myself.)  I have a groovy little Lion's Head Japanese Maple, but it looks weird right now.  Needs a pruning to address some winter deadness.

The sweet yellow flower is a Missouri Primrose- aka Ozark primrose (Onagraceae?)  Don't confuse the Missouri primrose with the borderline-weed-but-I-love-it-anyway Mexican primrose a few photos down (oeneothera?,  growing out of my sidewalk).

I have three colors of Knock Out shrub rose.  The light pink types looks great in the spring but the petals bleach out mid-summer to look dirty white.  Buy the darker pinks for better color. Cut this beast back almost to the ground.  Frequently

Bracken Beauty.  Hardy to zone 5 if protected from northern winds.  Phallic?

The combo to the left is a Maidenhair fern, cranberry impatien and hosta.  I dig the cranberry impatiens.  Color snob/Pantone junkie husband John describes it as "Rotamine Red."  It works for us- red enough to look red, but not so red that it won't go with pink.

Carrying on with the shade garden is a Japanese painted fern, Ostrich fern and begonia.  In 10 years of gardening, this is the FIRST time I've ever been successful with a fern.  The key:  put them near a water source away from dog traffic.

Totally love the Chocolate coral bells with the lime hosta.  This pair sits under a tree on the sidewalk.  I've seen many dogs pee on these two and they seem just fine.

Fuschia Peony, Miz-zou pansies, Mexican primrose, Knock-out Bleach-out rose, Allium (member of the onion family- I love these bulbs).