Waaay back in June of '09 I had a whole day to kill in Los Angeles, with no family-wedding happenings til dinnertime.  I'd already spent a glorious free day with Shirley Bovshow in her garden and being escorted by her around the Huntington Garden.  I just knew that come wintertime, I'd get around to writing about my day at Universal Studio-Hollywood, and that day's come, y'all, coz I still have 2 feet of white stuff covering my garden.

Fun Was Definitely Had
I have to say, if Universal doesn't know how to show you a good time, nobody does.  Even at $69 for the day, it was worth it for the rides, the animal shows, even for "Water World", a really bad movie that's enjoying a second life as a fun live show.   (Top photo.) 

My favorite was the studio tour of the back lot where dozens of my favorite movies and TV shows were filmed.  Above you see the original Bates Hotel from "Psycho", with a real-life Norman-impersonator giving us a quick reenactment.  "Desperate Housewives" fans will recognize these landscapes, part of a whole streetful of horticultural fripperies on Wisteria Lane (below).

On a Serious Note

But how's Universal doing on all the issues of the day?  Looks like they're aware of needing to green up their act and they've won some environmental award, the first to a theme park, and so that's good to know.   And the staff are super-friendly and the whole park immaculate (Take that, Disney!) 

So really I have only one nit to pick and it couldn't be more timely, what with the launch of the First Lady's anti-childhood-obesity program.  It's the park's all-you-can-eat deal – touted in the web page below.  I hate to think how much crap people are stuffing into their mouths, trying to make sure they get their money's worth.  And I say that as an occasional junk-food-eater myself – no purist here!

Simone Fary lives just 3 blocks from the newly-bustling downtown Silver Spring, Maryland, with its shops, night life and subway station to greater DC.  So, a great location.  Plus plenty of sun, y'all!  But like every other front yard in the neighborhood, hers was devoted to the care and feeding of turfgrass and some foundation shrubs.  That bit of conformity ended when Simone got the urge to grow some food, dammit, but to grow it in a gorgeous, gardeny way.  No need to go whole-farm and get the neighbors all nervous about property values.   No need to deny herself a beautiful garden.  The gardener with sun can have everything!

There's no real plan or formula for mixing edibles with ornamentals, just lots of experimentation.  Lots of gardening.  (Get that?  It's not what you'd call low-maintenance, and it isn't intended to be.) Here are the plants that have done well for Simone in her sunny city lot.

Fruits and vegetables
Highbush blueberry, Egyptian walking onions, Calendula, Egyptian spinach (self-seeding), Peas, Purple bush and pole beans against the fence, Chard, 'Hard neck' garlic she plants in October, Collonade apple (of which the squirrels eat ALL), Red currents (very pretty in the spring),  Pepper, Pawpaws (which are fly-pollinated, so Simone does that by hand with a paintbrush, Asian persimmons.

Herbs
Rosemary, Thyme, Oregano, Pineapple sage, Chives (blossoms are great on salads), Bronze fennel, Sorrel, and Dill (gorgeous the day I visited in late summer).

Strictly ornamental or for wildlife
Sunflower, Purple sage (or its looks, not for cooking),  Creeping phlox, Sedum, Asters, Dayliles (though you can eat daylily flowers), Mums, Lamb's ear, Ajuga, Liatris, Monarda (though flower petals can be used in salads), Hydrangea, Sunberries (for foliage only – because the bugs eat the fruit).

What she does not recommend

• Passionflower or purple coneflower because they seed too freely.
• Strawberry also reseeded too freely, and they're great in jellies and syrup.  So, maybe in hanging baskets.
• Nanking bush cherry – little red lines, tart.  Simone says it takes up too much space for what it yields.  

My story about Baltimore’s City Hall Garden is actually here on GardenRant.   These are the extra photos I couldn’t resist posting.

Lettuce and window box photos by Angela Treadwell-Palmer.  That’s Angela tackling the beans.

The "edibles" portion of the website used to just plead ignorance and link to the best authorities I could find.  But no longer!  That was pre-2009, before I became a new and passionate grower of food (if only on a modest scale). 

New on the site are:

• "Growing Edibles in Containers", is a round-up of everything I’ve learned on the subject PLUS input from my consultant, Renee Shepherd.

• From Renee Shepherd herself, the newest contributor to the website, "Growing Vegetables - What Works, What Doesn’t Work."  I can already check off a couple of these mistakes myself.  Thanks, Renee!

 Photo by Andreas.

I continue to be amazed by the up-close growing of vegetables, especially by how fast they grow and how lovely they are. 

And they’re full of surprises.  The parent of this cantaloupe was chain-store-bought and its seeds were planted late but it looks like they might just be ready before fall.  And when my green peppers turned red I realized, a bit late in the growing season, that I’m totally ignorant about these common foods.

Over on GardenRant I’m showing off shrubs and perennials in a sunny border.

by Guest Essayist Ed Cullen.  Ed’s a commentator on National Public Radio’s "All Things Considered" and feature writer and columnist for the Baton Rouge Advocate. Listen to more of Ed’s essays on the NPR site.   Ed sent me this essay about the citrus Satsuma and I couldn’t resist pairing it with the previous post, about growing fruit trees.  Susan

The knock on the door one afternoon signaled the opening session of the Satsuma Society, a collection of friends, acquaintances, utter strangers, walkers, runners, neighborhood children and garbage men  drawn each fall to our front yard citrus tree. 

The pilgrimage starts with children on the street who, thirsty, hungry or just people who know the importance of good diet, are attracted by the dangling, bright orange Satsumas that decorate branches hanging near the street. 

Once the children harvest the lowest mandarin oranges, the next wave, taller pilgrims, move up to the higher branches. 

A couple of years ago, I was sure the harvest was over when the remaining fruit was a good 10 feet off the ground. 

I was working in another part of the yard when I looked up to see a garbage collector waving from his perch high on his truck. 

First, he pointed to the Satsuma tree. Then, he pointed to his mouth. I waved my approval, and the truck began backing down the street. The garbage men got most of what was left of that year’s crop. 

The other day, our caller was a woman who takes care of a wheelchair bound neighbor in her 20s. They’d been talking about the Satsumas since the small, tart oranges began turning color this year. 

The young woman is blind, but her caretaker had described the Satsumas to her. When I peeled one of the pieces of fruit for her, the young woman said, “Oh, I smell them.” 

They left my curbside orchard with a bag of Satsuma and some Meyer lemons. 

This accidental tree has given me more pleasure than anything else in my garden. This tree that should have never borne fruit has been my introduction to neighbors and passersby I wouldn’t have known otherwise. 

The tree is an accidental because it began as a seed from a Satsuma that came from the supermarket. The tree grew from a seed I buried in a pot of dirt and forgot. Later, I transplanted the seedling that sprouted into the spot where a big tree grows today.

My wife and I are careful to get our harvest early for the juice that goes into Satsuma ice cream. I manage to down another couple of dozen as I work in the garden. 

The fruit ripens in the fall, in time for Thanksgiving and is around when it’s time to stuff Christmas stockings. 

At our house, fruit in the children’s stockings was a tradition begun by our parents whose own parents had put fruit in stockings for Christmases long ago. 

The annual gathering of the Satsuma Society in our front yard reminds me that people may still find pleasure, even joy, in something as simple as a piece of fruit hanging, tantalizingly, from a tree branch over a city street.

Photo credit: Edible Landscaping.