interesting, challenging reading

This is a post for the reader who might enjoy an occa­sional book on gar­den­ing and land­scape archi­tec­ture that isn’t designed to sit on your cof­fee table or nightstand.

The British Library has recently unveiled EThOS, a por­tal to elec­tronic the­ses and dis­ser­ta­tions from the UK. If the the­sis has been dig­i­tized, it’s avail­able to you for down­load once you reg­is­ter. Reg­is­tra­tion is free, and so are most of the texts. If some­thing isn’t avail­able yet, you can request it to be dig­i­tized within thirty days so that you can down­load it. Once again, that process is usu­ally free.

Only a small minor­ity of the­ses and dis­ser­ta­tions writ­ten these days is on gar­den­ing of course, but there’s some great work being done on the topic in British insti­tu­tions, with the Uni­ver­sity of Sheffield lead­ing the way.

Do a basic search on “Sheffield” and “land­scape” and you’ll get titles like the fol­low­ing that are avail­able with­out wait­ing thirty days:

Wu, Jiahua. Land­scape mor­phol­ogy : a com­par­a­tive study of land­scape aesthetics.

Jor­gensen, Anna. Liv­ing in the urban wild woods : a case study of the eco­log­i­cal wood­land approach to land­scape plan­ning and design at Birch­wood, War­ring­ton New Town.

Alturki, Ashraf. Atti­tudes towards designed land­scapes in two desert cities : Med­ina, Saudi Ara­bia and Tuc­son, Arizona.

Zhao, Jijun. Thirty years of land­scape design in China (1949–1979): The era of Mao Zedong. (The abstract for this one out­lines some fas­ci­nat­ing ideas about designed land­scape and ide­ol­ogy: “[L]andscape archi­tects first emerg­ing in early twen­ti­eth cen­tury China con­cerned them­selves espe­cially with the design of gar­dens and parks. This sit­u­a­tion remained almost unchanged dur­ing the rad­i­cal social­ist rev­o­lu­tion, which resulted in the found­ing of the People’s Repub­lic of China in 1949 that was led by Chair­man Mao Zedong (1893–1976). Dur­ing the Mao era (1949–1979), the impact of the Chi­nese com­mu­nist ide­ol­ogy on land­scape was far-ranging and ground break­ing. Besides exten­sive devel­op­ment of pub­lic parks for social­ist edu­ca­tion as well as recre­ational pur­poses, cities were reshaped with large hous­ing areas cre­ated for workers–the pro­le­tari­ats, and urban squares play­ing a cru­cial role in exhibit­ing polit­i­cal power, while the coun­try­side was reshaped from a hier­ar­chi­cal land­scape with an exploita­tive nature to an egal­i­tar­ian one, where the broad masses were to ben­e­fit from improvements.”)

Alter­nately, try a search on “Sheffield” and “gar­den” and you’ll find titles like these, dig­i­tized and ready to download:

Gilberthorpe, Enid Con­stance. British botan­i­cal gar­dens in the 1980s : changes reflected by bib­li­o­graph­i­cal and social survey.

Kel­lett, J.E. Pub­lic pol­icy and the pri­vate gar­den : An analy­sis of the effect of gov­ern­ment pol­icy on pri­vate gar­den pro­vi­sion in Eng­land and Wales 1918–81. (Sheffield City Polytechnic)

…and then there are intrigu­ing titles like these that still need to be dig­i­tized though you could be read­ing them in not much more time than it takes for a book to be deliv­ered to your doorstep:

Qasim, Moham­mad. The poten­tial role of pri­vate gar­dens in devel­op­ing greater envi­ron­men­tal sus­tain­abil­ity in cities.

Can­non, Andrew R. Wild birds in urban gar­dens : oppor­tu­nity or constraint?

Be fore­warned. From the skim­ming I did, these texts read like…well, col­lege dis­ser­ta­tions. Even among the authors who write really clearly you sense a cer­tain amount of them play­ing aca­d­e­mic buzz­word bingo. After all, the authors have to tell their profs that they know the lit­er­a­ture and can use their lingo. In addi­tion, the pho­tos accom­pa­ny­ing the texts aren’t picture-book qual­ity the way they appear online. But once you get beyond that, you cross over to a world rich in ideas.

[ Elec­tronic The­ses Online Ser­vice ]

July 29 2010 | Categories: gardeninglandscape design | Tags: | 2 Comments »

it came from the florist

florist-rose

Not long ago one of John’s friends, a florist, stopped by the house for a visit. She brought with her a sin­gle long-stemmed red rose in a tall vase. When I came home there was the flower, huge, red, per­fect and scent­less, sit­ting on the counter.

As you might guess from my title, there’s a good chance I might have an uncom­fort­able rela­tion­ship with flow­ers from a florist. If you go to someone’s house and want to give them some­thing spe­cial, do you stop by the gro­cery and pick up a pound of toma­toes as a host or host­ess gift? Of course not. You’d pick some from your gar­den and share some­thing spe­cial, some­thing sea­sonal, some­thing that gives of your­self and your gar­den. For me a store tomato has always shared some­thing with a florist’s rose. What you hold in your hands might be cos­met­i­cally stun­ning, but it leaves me with a question…what is this thing, any­way? Is it botan­i­cal? Or maybe some indus­trial product?

It just so hap­pened that a cou­ple nights before I’d fin­ished read­ing Amy Stewart’s 2007 book, Flower Con­fi­den­tial. If you don’t know her as an author of books, you might know her as the woman behind the blog, Dirt. And if you don’t know the book, it’s basi­cally a look inside the cut-flower indus­try and reveals it to be just that: an indus­try. The three big sec­tions of the book, “Breed­ing,” “Grow­ing” and “Sell­ing” may well explode any warm and fuzzies you might have about the florist trade, and show it to be pos­si­bly worse for the envi­ron­ment, work­ers and pub­lic health than the part of big agribusi­ness ded­i­cated to food crops.

Here are just a few snippets:

[U]nlike imported fruits and veg­eta­bles, flow­ers are not tested for ille­gal pes­ti­cide residue. After all, they’re not going to be eaten. That cre­ates a sit­u­a­tion in which grow­ers have an incen­tive to use the max­i­mum amount of pes­ti­cides to elim­i­nate the pos­si­bil­ity of a sin­gle gnat turn­ing up in a box.

The com­plaints about labor and envi­ron­men­tal prob­lems have been part of the flower industry’s legacy for as long as it has been in Latin Amer­ica. Although the sit­u­a­tion has been thor­oughly reported by inves­tiga­tive jour­nal­ists, it doesn’t appear to have changed American’s buy­ing habits. Every year, a greater share of flow­ers sold in the United States come from Latin Amer­ica. Over the last decade, sales of domes­ti­cally grown roses have dropped from almost 500 mil­lion to just under 100 mil­lion. Mean­while, imports of cut roses have increased to over 1.3 bil­lion stems a year.

At the gro­cery store, I can buy organic wine, fair-trade choco­late, and hormone-free milk from a local cream­ery. But the flow­ers in buck­ets by the cash reg­is­ter are unla­beled, unmarked, entirely undif­fer­en­ti­ated. There’s no basis on which to com­pare and choose, except for price… The anonymity of cut flow­ers has made it impos­si­ble for cus­tomers to demand any­thing different.

There’s a lot more to the book than rants against the trade, and it’s a worth­while read if you’d like to know more about what you find at the store.

Sev­eral days after the per­fect florist’s rose finally passed on to the next plane in the way that florist’s roses do–without open­ing up, with­out show­ing the sta­mens and pis­tils that are a flower’s very rea­son for existing–Linda showed up at the house with a bou­quet of roses from her gar­den. Even before I saw them I knew there were roses in her hands. There was a breeze com­ing in the front door, and there was scent of roses col­or­ing the air.

real-rose-1

real-rose-2

Over the next days the roses pro­ceeded to do what roses do. They opened. They con­tin­ued to release their scents. And in a cou­ple more days they’ll start to drop their petals and fade. They par­tic­i­pate in a nat­ural process in a way that their more primped runner-up in a beauty pageant rel­a­tive does not, and I appre­ci­ate them for that.

June 30 2009 | Categories: gardening | Tags: | 4 Comments »

the dry gardening handbook

Olivier and Clara Fil­ippi have been gar­den­ing in the south of France for well over a quar­ter cen­tury. Theirs is a mediter­ranean cli­mate, and their nurs­ery, Pépinière Fil­ippi, located near Mont­pel­lier, spe­cial­izes in plants adapted to the dry-summer/wet-winter cycles that you find in only five large regions on earth: the Mediter­ranean zone, proper; South Africa; the south­west cor­ner of Aus­tralia; Chile; and much of California.

Cover or The Dry Gardening Handbook

When I picked up Olivier Filippi’s recent The Dry Gar­den­ing Hand­book: Plants and Prac­tices for a Chang­ing Cli­mate, I was expect­ing it to be a dif­fer­ent sort of book than it is, maybe some­thing about gen­eral drought-tolerant plants, or a vol­ume ded­i­cated to help­ing your gar­den adapt to using less water. What this is, how­ever, is a straight book on mediter­ranean gar­den­ing and plants suited to mediter­ranean climates–something that prob­a­bly shouldn’t come as a sur­prise since that’s the focus of the author’s nursery.

There’s a brief intro­duc­tion to what con­sti­tutes a mediter­ranean cli­mate, fol­lowed by notes on the strate­gies plants use to sur­vive and thrive in it. Good advice on plan­ning, plant­ing, estab­lish­ing and water­ing a new mediter­ranean gar­den comes next. Then Fil­ippi gives us the heart of the book, a list­ing of over 400 mediterranean-adapted species, con­tain­ing com­mon and sci­en­tific names, approx­i­mate mature plant sizes, and notes on cul­ti­va­tion and prop­a­ga­tion. (If you can begin to read French, you can check out the online cat­a­log at the author’s nurs­ery, which closely mir­rors the list of plants rec­om­mended in the book. There you’ll also find some of the advice that’s offered in the book, although with­out the nice pho­tos in the book.)

Olivier Fil­ippi gar­dens in France, and the plant list def­i­nitely Euro­cen­tric: lots of dif­fer­ent laven­ders, cis­tus, phlomis, for exam­ple, with rel­a­tively few plants from other the other great mediter­ranean regions. In fact, many of the non-Mediterranean mediterranean-friendly plants listed are drought tol­er­ant selec­tions from sev­eral non-mediterranean cli­mates. For gar­den­ers in dry cli­mates that don’t undergo mediter­ranean cycles, these sug­ges­tions might be some of the best options to try. But those plants might not the be great­est of dis­cov­er­ies: Pho­tinia, heav­enly bam­boo (Nan­d­ina domes­tica), red-hot poker (Kniphofia sar­men­tosa) and Amer­i­can gaura (Gaura lind­heimeri), for instance, are prob­a­bly already com­mon offer­ings in many Amer­i­can nurseries.

One of the book’s most out­stand­ing fea­tures is the use of a “drought resis­tance code” that assigns a num­ber from one to six to each of the species in its plant list. Based on work by plant geo­g­ra­pher Henri Gaussen, the num­ber quan­ti­fies the num­ber of months of the year a plant can be expected to sur­vive under drought stress. The book also con­tains instruc­tions on how to cal­cu­late the cli­matic pro­file of where you live. (I fig­ured out that my coastal San Diego loca­tion exerts a 3.5 to 4 drought stress fac­tor. (Edit May 20: I oopsed on my fig­ur­ing for coastal San Diego. My revised num­ber is a much dryer drought stress fac­tor of 6.)) All that’s a really use­ful way to under­stand drought.

When you see plants sold in nurs­eries and cat­a­logs as drought-tolerant, the descrip­tion can be mean­ing­less. A vari­ety that would go fine for two weeks with­out water could turn into sea­soned kin­dling if sub­jected to six or seven months of con­tin­ued dry­ing. Real­iz­ing that a “drought-tolerant” chamomile plant has a drought resis­tance code of 2 would begin to tell you that it wouldn’t thrive in the same con­di­tions that would suit California’s more “drought-proof” Rom­neya coul­teri, which has a drought resis­tance code of 6. Hav­ing that infor­ma­tion could help you plan com­pan­ion plant­i­ngs, as well as help you avoid plants alto­gether that would only lead to expen­sive mistakes.

Com­ing at plant­i­ngs from a mediter­ranean focus leads the author to say some choice things about lawns:

You don’t have to be a vision­ary to see that the tra­di­tional lawn is an absur­dity in mediter­ranean cli­mates. If you nur­ture a deeply rooted feel­ing that you can’t be happy with­out a vast, lush lawn, then per­haps you ought to con­sider going to live in Corn­wall… Peo­ple often imag­ine that they need a huge expanse of lawn, but all too often the only per­son who walks over a tra­di­tional lawn in its entirety is the unfor­tu­nate indi­vid­ual who has to mow it every Sunday.

The author’s solu­tion? Land­scap­ing that pays atten­tion to where you live. For those of you in mediter­ranean cli­mates, this book can help you develop a deeper under­stand­ing of what’s unique about your envi­ron­ment. It can help you come up with good plant choices com­pat­i­ble with what your loca­tion offers. Along the way, it could help you save water, reduce pes­ti­cide use and maybe even free up some of those Sun­days you spend mow­ing the lawn.

May 16 2009 | Categories: gardening | Tags: | 7 Comments »

green immigrants

Here are a few more selec­tions that you might find inter­est­ing from Amer­i­can Per­cep­tions of Immi­grant and Inva­sive Species: Strangers on the Land, by Peter Coates, pub­lished in 2006.

Before Colum­bus brought seeds and cut­tings along on his sec­ond voy­age to the West Indies, North Amer­ica was home to less than 1 per­cent of the world’s total com­ple­ment of cere­als, starches, fruits, and vegetables.

Today, the only crops of sig­nif­i­cant com­mer­cial value native to the ter­ri­tory that became the United States are cran­berry, blue­berry, pecan nut, sugar maple, sun­flower, and tobacco–a fact that offers elo­quent tes­ti­mony to the great ser­vice that has been duly ren­dered by a sting of public-spirited Americans…

No Amer­i­can pub­lic ser­vant since [Thomas] Jef­fer­son deserves more credit for trans­form­ing the for­eign into the com­mon than David G. Fairchild. In his capac­ity as agri­cul­tural explorer in charge at the Sec­tion for For­eign Seed and Plant Intro­duc­tion from 1898 until 1928, Fairchild brought the navel orange to Florida and Cal­i­for­nia from Brazil and over­saw the intro­duc­tion of Italy’s seed­less grape and China’s dry land pis­ta­chio. His most notable con­tri­bu­tions, how­ever, were in the intro­duc­tion of the Chi­nese soy­bean and…the tree that became an essen­tial prop of Wash­ing­ton, D.C.‘s mon­u­men­tal land­scape, adorn­ing the Tidal Basin: the Japan­ese flow­er­ing cherry tree.

Fairchild’s encoun­ters with the infa­mous vine that “ate the South”…left him some­what chas­tened. He first came across kudzu about 1900 while tour­ing Japan, where this wild, semi­woody peren­nial was fed to live­stock. In his auto­bi­og­ra­phy he recalled a visit to a “kudzu enthu­si­ast” in Chip­ley, Florida, who was renowned for singing its praises as a for­age crop in the early 1900s, despite his neigh­bors’ dis­trust. “When­ever I think of that night’s talk with the kudzu pio­neer,” recalled Fairchild, “I have a spe­cial feel­ing of pride in what might be called our Amer­i­can will­ing­ness to try some­thing new, whether it be a new for­age crop, a new food, or any one of a thou­sand new, machine-made gad­gets.” Fairchild, who con­fessed that “per­haps I have an undue pas­sion for the new,” retained his faith in kudzu for quite some time, despite its pro­cliv­ity to spread at will. By the late 1930s, how­ever he was express­ing his grow­ing reser­va­tions in print. The seeds he brought back from Japan and planted on his prop­erty in Florida “‘took’ with a vengeance, smoth­er­ing every­thing they got onto, and pretty soon we became alarmed. Feel­ing that the kudzu was too much for us, we began to cut it out.”

Fairchild finally returned home, so to speak, in 1946, when invited to make his selec­tion for the “My Favorite Tree” guest col­umn in the jour­nal of the Amer­i­can Forestry Asso­ci­a­tion (the nation’s old­est con­ser­va­tion orga­ni­za­tion, founded in 1875). After men­tion­ing a string of exotic also-rans, but dis­card­ing them as unsat­is­fac­tory, he recalled that he had seen his first grove of Cal­i­for­nia coastal red­woods (Sequoia sem­per­virens) fairly late in life, at a time when he was still besot­ted with exotic Asi­atic promise: “A feel­ing of utter paral­y­sis over­took me and the pas­sion for plant­ing trees, my puny lit­tle trees, any­where, became distasteful.”

The sto­ries in the book are great, and the social com­men­tary is com­pelling. Unfor­tu­nately, every now and then a botan­i­cal clinker drops into the book’s pages, such as the one that fol­lows the quote on red­woods imme­di­ately above, where the author waxes, “Though the red­wood is only really found in Cal­i­for­nia (there is a tiny patch in the most south­west­erly cor­ner of Ore­gon), it is arguably more Amer­i­can than any other tree in the United States inso­far as it has no rel­a­tives, near or dis­tant, in any other coun­try.” Like, um, what about the Chi­nese dawn red­wood (Metase­quoia glyp­tostroboides)?

Okay, this isn’t a book you read for the botany, but it’s a wor­thy and thought­ful work on plants and the human con­di­tion, per­fect for late win­ter read­ing as you con­tem­plate the impend­ing bloom­ing of your cherry trees.

Although it’s pri­mar­ily about bio­log­i­cal immi­grants to North Amer­ica, Peter Coates points occa­sion­ally out that the immigrant-carrying boats sailed both directions:

The native oaks of Britain and the United States were greatly admired by J.C. Loudon, a lead­ing British hor­ti­cul­tur­ist of the mid-nineteenth cen­tury. He pro­nounced them “the most beau­ti­ful of trees.” Yet exotic trees had already become a manda­tory ingre­di­ent of the “polite” British land­scape enclosed within pri­vate estates. Loudon him­self was one of the trend­set­ters who insisted that, notwith­stand­ing the oak’s charms, “no res­i­dence in the mod­ern style can have a claim to be con­sid­ered as laid out in good taste, in which all the trees and shrubs employed are not either for­eign ones, or improved vari­eties of indige­nous ones.

The most sought-after of these arbo­real exotics were hardy North Amer­i­cans. Britons were ruth­lessly con­de­scend­ing toward Amer­i­can artis­tic achieve­ments at this time. “In the four quar­ters of the globe,” Syd­ney Smith famously inquired [in 1820], “who reads an Amer­i­can book?” or goes to an Amer­i­can play” or looks at an Amer­i­can pic­ture or statue?” Yet no one asked “who plants an Amer­i­can tree?”

February 10 2009 | Categories: gardeninglandscapelandscape designquotes | Tags: | 3 Comments »

just about to be published

catalog-cover1

Linda brought by my desk the 2009 Spring cat­a­log of the Prince­ton Archi­tec­tural Press. She really like the photo on the cover, a plant­ing by Andrea Cochran, a San Francisco-based land­scape archi­tect and the sub­ject of a new book, Andrea Chochran: Land­scapes, which is just about to be pub­lished. (The project shown is the Ivy Street Roof Ter­race Hayes Val­ley Roof Gar­den in San Francisco.)

You may recall that Linda is a quil­ter, and the cover design really looks quilt-like in the way it’s put together: blocks of dif­fer­ent plant­i­ngs (not just blocks of sin­gle kinds of plants), all assem­bled together so that one group­ing of plants con­trasts dra­mat­i­cally against another, like one pat­terned fab­ric in a quilt that’s been set against another. In fact the author of of the book describes Cochan’s work as “stud­ies in rep­e­ti­tion and order, orches­tra­tions of move­ment in the land­scape, and ele­ments placed in geo­met­ric conversation”–which almost sounds like the prin­ci­ples oper­at­ing behind many quilts.


Check out Andrea Cochran’s web­site for other exam­ples of her strong, lin­ear land­scape designs.

Thumb­ing through the cat­a­log I ran across another title that made me stop for a closer look, Bam­boo Fences, by Isao Yoshikawa and Osamu Suzuki. The cat­a­log says that the book “pro­vides a detailed look at the com­plex art of bam­boo fence design in Japan, pre­sent­ing these unique struc­tures in over 250 pho­tographs and line draw­ings. From the widely used ‘four-eyed fence’ (yotsume-gaki) and the fine ‘rain­coat fence’ (mino-gaki) to the expen­sive ‘spice­bush fence’ (kuromoji-gaki), these exquis­ite designs impress with their sim­ple beauty, pro­vid­ing plenty of inspi­ra­tion for your own bam­boo fence.

bamboofence1

Author Isao Yoshikawa gives a brief overview of the his­tory of bam­boo fence build­ing in Japan and clas­si­fies the dif­fer­ent designs by type. A glos­sary pro­vides expla­na­tion of Japan­ese fence names and struc­tural terms.”

Of course, fences like this prob­a­bly wouldn’t work so well if your house is in the Tudor or Span­ish taste. Unless of course you want your home to develop a “home store Gothic” look that one writer called the look that sub­ur­ban houses accrue over time as their own­ers buy what­ever strikes their fancy at the local Home Depot, his­tor­i­cal accu­racy and style be damned.

bamboofence2

But imag­ine these around a clean-lined mod­ern house. In fact, Richard Neu­tra was known to like his glass-walled homes to look out on a Japanese-styled land­scape. And some of the more geo­met­ric ver­sions might even look amaz­ing behind a land­scape designed the the sub­ject of the first book.…

bamboofence3

Above: Images from the book, pho­tographed by Osamu Suzuki.

January 28 2009 | Categories: gardeninglandscape design | Tags: | 5 Comments »

dear santa: books!

Okay, Santa, in case you’re read­ing this: You know that I love books. And with the pub­lish­ing indus­try being so bat­tered by new media like, gulp, blog­ging (mea culpa), what bet­ter way to sup­port the art form of cool, inter­est­ing books?

Gar­den pic­ture books are always appre­ci­ated, as are books that are a lit­tle more thought­ful about gar­den­ing and nature and cul­ture. New books from the local book­store are great, but used ones from a local book­store or a site like abebooks.com work just as well. In fact, that’s where you can find some great out of print books you’ll never encounter any­where else. And what bet­ter way to par­tic­i­pate in recycling?

Here are some titles that would make me extra-happy, and I’d guess that many like-minded gar­den­ers out there would find them inter­est­ing as well. Some are from the past year, some from fur­ther back.

  • Niwaki: Prun­ing, Train­ing and Shap­ing Japan­ese Gar­den Trees by Jake Hob­son
    Books with func­tional instruc­tions for how to prune are use­ful, but this book gives you ideas on how to move from the func­tional to the sen­si­tive, grace­ful and artis­tic. This is prun­ing with nature instead of against it. I don’t have a Japan­ese gar­den, but I can always learn lessons from its traditions.

Although I love the works of the Dutch gar­den designer Piet Oudolf, one of the gods of the “new peren­ni­als” gar­den­ing move­ment, I real­ized that I didn’t have any of his books. The titles that look the most interesting:

And some selec­tions that are more from the art side of things:

  • Los Ange­les Trees : Paint­ings, Draw­ings, Film­stills by Lucas Reiner
    I haven’t had a chance to flip through this book, but the recent LA Times writeup looked entic­ing. “The trees exude patience and humor, cast­ing sneaky, leafy shad­ows across the graf­fiti and cacoph­o­nous sig­nage of L.A… [Reiner] began to draw and paint indi­vid­ual trees, most of them not Cal­i­for­nia natives. He saw their strange shapes as ‘the result of their inter­ac­tion with the needs of civilization.’”

If price is no object, there’s always the clas­sic (and now ridicu­lously pricey):

  • A Few Palm Trees by Ed Ruscha
    The title pretty much says it. Ruscha’s book has black and white pho­tos of var­i­ous palm trees in the Hol­ly­wood area, along with the street addresses where he found them. The pho­tos aren’t par­tic­u­larly “good” in any tra­di­tional artis­tic sense. It’s just a stu­pid lit­tle artist’s book with pic­tures of a few palm trees–pretty much the antithe­sis of the pre­ced­ing effort, just a cool lit­tle slacker of a book. It’s weirdly compelling.

And keep­ing with the one-plant theme:

  • Saguaros pho­tographs by Mark Klett, text by Gre­gory McNamee
    Mark Klett is one of my favorite pho­tog­ra­phers work­ing today. Few peo­ple cap­ture the edges of civ­i­liza­tion and nature bet­ter than he. In this book Klett col­lects together images of saguaros he’s take over the years. No two plants of any species are exactly the same, and with saguaros it’s even more true. These are plants with char­ac­ter, pho­tographed with soul.

And then I might add some gen­eral items, not strictly book– or gardening-related, but prod­ucts that are made of things from the earth:

  • Arti­sanal cheeses, any­thing from stinky to refined!
  • Craft beers, ales espe­cially, the hop­pier the better

And you thought I was hard to shop for!

December 09 2008 | Categories: artgardeningphotography | Tags: | 1 Comment »