Agavecide Part II

  

Soil disturbance. Uh-oh.

While fretting and wondering how to deal with the gopher infestation on the front slope, I noticed soil disturbance up on the west slope.  I went up there to look. 

$%#@&^$&!#%!!

 Importantly, because of the space around the area, I was able to find the gopher's tunnel.  I set up one of the traps. in it.  The next morning (warning: next is a cringy picture)...

Success!  I celebrated for a moment.  The question became:  how many gophers are in the garden?   It may surprise you, but a single eight inch (20 cm), four ounce (100 g) gopher can cause incredible damage.  A modest gopher territory could be the size of a tennis court, an extensive one ten times that.  They are highly territorial and spread out in an area.  So, is there another, or more? Observation and action will proceed.

To be repaired and replanted.  That delightfully nubbly Aloe aculeata x cryptopoda will get a more prominent spot:

In other news, a melancholy local event:  a large, very reliable grower/retailer of plants is shutting down.  A national corporation bought them a year or two ago, assuring the long-time employees everything would continue.  As it turned out, surprise surprise, not for long.  A garden buddy and I dropped by.  It was sad.

Nearly all the remaining plants were in terrible shape because of course the corporation wasn't going to pay employee hours or the water bill to care for them.  I did find a Hellebore in need of a home.  It was in the shaded area and so not dried out.  A quality plant from Monterey Bay Nursery.  I was a bit surprised to see their product sold at this local place, but whatever:

There were new leaves sprouting, so I knew it was likely to survive:

I took it to the sales desk.  We wished the employees the best and expressed how sorry we were.  An employee looked up the Hellebore's code to get the price.  Everything was 75% off.  He couldn't find it, so asked another worker.  And then another.  Computer re-consulted.  They couldn't find it.  A voice back in the office said something muffled I could not hear.   Then the employee handed me the Hellebore and said,  "Merry Christmas".  No code, no cost.  My souvenir of their lost jobs. 

Back at home, the Aloes are about to commence their winter show.  Aloe cameronii:

Aloe candelabrum:

Aloe castanea is branching.  The emerging flower stalk may not be apparent in the photo, but it's there:

'Cynthia Gitty' is ahead of the game:

'David Verity':

A. ferox, white version.  I had to chop back the Opuntia microdaysis somewhat because it was bending the Aloe:

 Incidentally, at the ferox's base, Drimia maritima, "Giant White Squill" is sprouting its cool season foliage. This summer's flower stems are not quite dry enough yet to pop off:

Aloe hardyi had a rough summer but it is flowering anyway. I'll have to either move it or get it more irrigation.  The species is a cliff dweller that may need more shade or less reflected heat:

Aloe 'Moonglow' especially showy and so joyfully anticipated:

A. rubroviolacea just opening.  It has nine flowing stems and will likely have more:

 Aloe vanbalenii has a dozen stems:

Aloe suprafoliata has opened, too.  It is doing better now that the Leucospermum 'Yellow Bird' is no longer overwhelming it:

Too small to flower still, but looking happy planted in the ground are two of the IKEA trio purchased as two-leaf seedlings years ago.  Vanbalenii flower stems intruding on the left:

Oops, roses slipped into this set of photos.  How'd that happen?  

'The Poet's Wife':

The buttery 'Julia Child':

'Brass Band', yet again (sorry!):

I am guessing the gopher?(s)? are ignoring the Aloes because of the bitterness and purgative nature of the Aloe roots.  I could be very wrong.