HERE’S SOMETHING YOU DON’T SEE in Brooklyn…
And despite our latest impressive 19 inches of snow, we haven’t seen much of this either…
Nor even, I’m glad to say, this:
These pictures were sent to me by my wasband, who is living (cheerfully) through winter’s icy grip in the Northern Dutchess cottage, below.
Go here to see how the same place looks in milder weather.
THE IDES OF MARCH are almost upon us, and what a pain. I’m up in the Hudson Valley now, cat-sitting for a few days, and if ever I thought I was going to do some gardening, which I foolishly did, I’ve had to let go of that notion. The snow was thick on the ground when I got here, and now, after two days of rain, what’s not snow-covered is mushy and boggy and muddy (here’s how it looked this morning, above). True, I did manage to shovel some compost into bags for my garden in East Hampton, and cut down some of last season’s zebra grass before the rains came.
But my hope was to dig and divide some of the cottagey perennials that are here in abundance, all deer-resistant, planted mostly between 2002 and 2006 when I spent a lot of time gardening up here in Zone 5 northern Dutchess. (See one of the beds to be pillaged as it looks in mid-summer, above.) That was, it turns out, a ridiculous hope. With temperatures here in the 40’s recently, I figured the ground would be un-frozen, and I could get some rudbeckia, bee balm, catmint, ladies mantle, coral bells, lamb’s ear, astilbe, bleeding heart, and any number of other things into plastic pots, ready to be transplanted into my newly prepared Zone 7 Long Island garden beds, below, next week.
Waaaaayyyyyy premature. I shall have to sit tight, along with gardeners throughout the Northeast, and wait for the winter to finish up in its own good time.
It’s good to know, however, that the curved beds at the front of my property back in East Hampton — about 400 square feet of them, leading from my new parking court to the front door of my cottage, are pretty much ready to go. Last fall, I laid them out by raking piles of fallen oak leaves into the desired shapes. Through the winter, I woke up more than once in the middle of the night wondering how I was going to turn piles of leaves into plantable soil, quickly.
The answer came in the form of a delivery truck from Whitmores last Wednesday, containing 7 cubic yards of topsoil and compost (cost: about $400). It was shoveled, spread, and raked smooth for me right on top of those leaves, ready to be planted up as soon as the time is right.
I haven’t ordered anything from those tempting catalogues; I don’t have the patience to wait for tiny specimens to grow. I’ll buy shrubs and perennials from wholesale nurseries, and places like Lowe’s and Home Depot, which may not have anything exotic, but in recent years seem to have gotten their act together to at least provide healthy plants. I’ll divide what’s here upstate, beg divisions from other gardeners I know, and take whatever can be spared from the backyard of one of my buildings in Brooklyn, above.
My goal: curb appeal, fast. It’s going to be a happy round robin of plant-moving and schlepping, and I can hardly wait.
THE INTERNET IS ALL ABOUT SHARING, RIGHT? Just as I was mulling what to blog about, in came the weekly e-mail newsletter from Rural Intelligence, a website that is like the New York Times Style, Dining, Home, and Weekend sections all rolled into one, but for the Hudson Valley.
It called my attention to a crisp re-do of a mid-19th century house, the home of interior and fashion stylist Raina Kattelson and her architect husband, Robert Butscher, in my favorite Hudson River town, Tivoli, in Northern Dutchess County.
Has to be the easiest re-do ever. The couple decided to lose their prior earth-toned, Moroccan vibe and replace it with a fresh, modern look. All it took was a few gallons of Benjamin Moore’s Grape Green, and a winnowing of the furniture, art, and accessories they already owned. “A thoughtful tweaking and sifting” works beautifully when you have interesting, well-designed stuff to tweak.
Go here to read more about the homeowners and see more pictures of their wonderful styled-to-the-teeth house.
I’m always amazed at how much there is to see when an old-house (and barn) fanatic really looks. All these pictures were taken Wednesday in the course of an hour’s drive around the Dutchess County town of Red Hook.
Click on any image to enlarge and get a description.
casaCARA 