Reconfiguration

Has anyone ever bought a previously owned house and said, “It’s just perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing?” That may happen occasionally, but most of us want to put our own mark on a place – reconfigure, repaint, tear out carpet or lay some down.

That’s how it is with the kids’ new house. It was built in 1951 but had an interior room addition as well as an Arizona room sometime along the way. The Arizona room went away first. Its roof leaked and the wood was rotten. Several of the walls in the main house are covered with floor to ceiling mirrors – the room addition, the entryway, and the guest bathroom. They make large spaces appear too large and small spaces seem claustrophobic. Those will go eventually, but in the meantime there was one backyard feature no one could abide.

The fountain took up a large part of the yard between the main house and the two casitas. What’s more, it was hideous. 

Here it is in the first stage of demolition.

Now it’s just a hole with a remaining ugly structure of red rock and cement. That, too, soon will disappear.

Only one part of the fountain structure will survive. His new home is near the door of the studio casita. He stands beneath a little grove of Texas mountain laurel, piping a welcome.

Now all that remains to be removed is a stand of cactus and some of the patio pavers. 

Someday soon a little citrus grove will fill this space, with a fig tree to boot. That’s how we plan to reconfigure, to put our mark on the place.

Copyright 2015 by Shirley Domer

Name That Plant

Native plants and gardening are important parts of my life. I’ve studied Kansas wildflower books for thirty years or more and gardened almost that long. Many times I’ve scattered seeds of native grasses and forbs in our five-acre pasture. Many times I’ve planned, planted, and harvested a vegetable garden. But that was in Kansas.

Now I’m in Arizona looking at a landscape that seems exotic and strange to me. In our yard alone there are several plants I’ve yet to identify, although I knew this was an agave right away. It’s almost as iconic of the Sonoran Desert as the saguaro cactus.

Most people’s xeriscaped yards have at least one agave. The agave, also called the century plant because of the myth that the agave blooms only when it’s a century old. Actually an agave may bloom in ten years or twenty or thirty. This one in our neighborhood is sending up a bloom stalk that strongly resembles a giant spear of asparagus. It could become forty feet high before it quits going up and sends out blooms. Then the plant will die. That’s just the way it is with agave.

I also recognized that his plant is an aloe, but I’ve never seen one this large or with blooms like this.

I have no idea what this plant is, but it’s putting up bloom stalks. What will the blooms look like? What color will they be? Stay tuned.

This afternoon I noticed a viney shrub growing by the casita wall. It Iooks like some sort of honeysuckle.

It took me a while to connect this plant to the yuccas we have at home. First I noticed the seedpods, which are shaped differently from ours but have the same growth habit. Then I noticed the lance-like leaves and the white threads along their sides. Native Americans use yucca strands as threads, I think.

It’s odd how study of one ecosystem’s plants paves the way for recognition of the familial traits of another ecosystem’s. I’m starting to feel more at home here, with different, but familiar flora around me.

Copyright 2015 by Shirley Domer

Snowbird with a Difference

I’m a snowbird again. This isn’t my first snowbird experience. I spent several winters in a friend’s house in Biloxi, where my nearest friend was 90 miles away, and several more winters in Galveston Island rental houses, where I didn’t know a soul. But this time it’s different. I’m with family.

Our grandson and his bride-to-be have bought a house here in Tucson. We contributed to the down payment with the stipulation that the house they chose must have what is known here as a “casita,” or guest house, that we could occupy during the winter months.

Dennis couldn’t accompany me this time due to obligations back home in Kansas, but he will drive down in late March to enjoy the sunshine for a few days before we head back north.

The house needed some repairs, principally a very large, leaky Arizona room that had to be torn down. This deconstruction left a huge amount of debris to be disposed of. Fortunately, Tucson has a roll-off dumpster service. The dumpster arrived filled with good garden soil that landed on the driveway. When the dumpster was filled, an operator came with a truck to take it away.

That left a big pile of metal parts to be recycled. A Home Depot rental truck carried the metal to a recycling business, which netted a lot more than the truck rental cost.

Calls to an electrician, a plumber, and a roofing company almost completed the needed repairs. All that’s left is installation of a new heating and cooling system in the larger casita. (There are two casitas, one for cooking, eating, and sleeping. The other, which we will renovate, will be for relaxation and recreation.)

Because the nights are chilly and the main casita temporarily has no heat, I’m occupying the guest room in the main house. This intergenerational living is working out quite well. The kids are very welcoming and I feel I’m helping them by preparing the evening meal while they both are at work.

Being a snowbird has never been more pleasant. Being with family makes all the difference.

Copyright 2015 by Shirley Domer