Springing Forward

In a little over a month it will officially be summer, but a just a week before Memorial Day it finally feels like spring.  And despite repeated attempts to go outside and finish the first pass at weeding and leaf clean up, but driven inside by torrential rains and hail (!) over the past couple of weekends, today I was able to spend a full day outside blissfully reconnecting with my yard on an intimate level.

I was not the only hard worker in the garden.  When weeding under the PJM rhododendron I could not escape the hum of bees all excitedly flying around bloom to bloom.  There were several kinds, but this guy was the only one who stayed still long enough for a clear photo (I really wanted one of the bumblebees, who seemed to be the size of golf balls, but they were surprisingly fast).

Next to the PJM is a Boulevard False Cypress that had dropped quite a few needles over the winter.  When I was clearing underneath I find a little nest that seemed to be constructed from straw and dryer lint.  It was uninhabited so I brought it inside to show my daughter and I put it on the mantel.

The bees and bird's nest are evidence that when we garden we restore the balance we disrupt when we clear the land for homes, driveways, streets, and other buildings.

The Winter of My Discontent

This may have been the longest winter in Maine history and thus explains my abstinence from blogging (nothing to report when the yard is consistently covered in snow).   While other states were enjoying the color of new blooms and mowing their lawns, we were still waiting for the snow to melt.  There are a few hearty crocuses making an attempt in my front lawn, but they will probably go by before we have a chance to properly pay our respects.  I bet we'll see a short spring and then a long hot summer before we know it.

It was warm enough this weekend to finally go outside and begin sweeping out the considerable amount of sand left behind by plow trucks. There are the stubborn oak leaves that fell after the first snow that will need to be cleared as well.  While it's tempting to complain about the volumes of snow we received, it should be noted that snow acts as an insulator for your plants and shrubs and, when it melts, is a good source of moisture so that they don't dry out.  Better to have too much snow than not enough.

The egg is put back together here to show the teeth or claw marks.
 The squirrel must have cracked this egg like a walnut;
the tin foil was next to it, but the candy was long gone.

And while I should have been doing more actual yard work outside I had to take a break and hide a few Easter eggs for my teenage daughter who hates to leave childhood behind. By the time she had gotten around to looking for the eggs, just about 2 hours later, one of our neighborhood squirrels had managed to get one of the hidden eggs open, eat the candy inside, and leave the colored tin foil behind.

I'm a little worried that there is a sad squirrel out there somewhere with a terrible stomach ache and wonder why a squirrel would be tempted by 2 Rolos and a Hershey kiss?  I guess it was a long winter for them, too.

Falling Back

It's surprising to me how much I love autumn considering it means winter is just around the corner.  The garden doesn't do much this time of year other than look a little brown and dormant.  Holly bushes will usually look attractive and should have bright red berries that will last through winter.  It's worth having a few evergreens like the holly scattered among the perennials if you still spend some of your time outdoors this time of year.  At least have a few evergreens around the foundation, especially near the front door. 

Ambitious gardeners will be harvesting their last crops before the first frost, but this gardener is tired by the end of summer.  If the leaves are rakes and the lawn mowed, I consider my obligations done.  Fall is a great time to rearrange those plants that need to be moved.  You can also move plants in the spring, which some gardeners prefer, but you need to be diligent with the watering if you move them in nicer weather.  Moving plants in the fall means not having to water them after transplanting unless it's an usually warm fall and the ground dries out. 

Despite my lazy autumn asperations, I will take the time to clean and wash the bird feeders so that they can be kept filled through the winter.  Not only for the birds, but for the clever chipmunks and crafty squirrels as well.  This year I noticed a remarkable lack of acorns despite the many oaks in the neighborhood.  And while some consider squirrels as just another city rodent, I do worry about them in the winter and whether they can find enough food.  So if I see no acorns, I will be even more diligent about the bird feeders. 

 

 

Natural sources of food for birds and squirrels is also a really good idea. The flowering crab in front of our house attracts a lot of pretty birds, like the robin pictured here.  By the first snow the branches are most often bare.

Falling into Fall

When I checked the date of my last post, I was a bit disappointed in myself.  It's been almost two months and I haven't thought of a great subject to approach another autumn season of, sigh, raking leaves.  Though it seems a bit late in the year, I did get the better half to build a platform for the two rain barrels so that I can get a bucket under the spigot of each. But as far as gardening plans have been, I've just retained the status quo, weeding here and there, and deadheading where necessary. 

The morning glories are still blooming beautifully, but I did cut them back since they went rogue over the past couple of weeks.  Other flowers still looking good are the marigolds, pansies, and, surprisingly, California poppies.  Of course, all those plants are annuals, but I am hoping they will seed for next year. 


The perennials I have are just about done for.  Some chrysanthemums are still sitting pretty.  One of the tricks to getting chrysanthemum to winter over (most people treat them like annuals) is to cut them back once they have died back and throw a little mulch on top to help protect them.  If they do survive the winter, they may be inclined to bloom mid-summer.  Just pinch the tops as they grow.  You will delay the bloom and make your plants fuller and showier.

This time of year is also good for finding flowers that may dry well for winter decorations.  Hydrangea are usually reliable for a good dried flower.  The color may vary based upon the time you pick the flower, from green to white to pink, and it's nice to bring some of the outdoors in for the winter.  This year, however, I didn't have any real blooms on my hydrangea since I waited too long to prune it.  Poor shrub didn't recover, so I am hopeful next year will be better.  But I am consoled by the fancy grasses in the yard.  Just to see how they would dry, I picked a few and brought them inside.  They dried beautifully.  While they don't share the same colors as the hydrangea, they have a unique texture that sets them apart from other dried flowers.  Look for other flowers that have dried well on the stem at this time of year to see if it would make a good indoor decoration, you might be amazed at what you find. 

Love's Not the Only Battlefield

Sometimes you buy a plant that comes highly recommended as easy to care for and not picky about the soil.  You have high expectations that the plant will look as lovely in the garden as on the plant care tag.  Then you splurge on a nice, healthy plant.  You admire it as it grows, notice buds, and look forward to the day it opens.  You run outside to look at your "beautiful" plant ... and see only knawed stems.  This is my sad story of my doomed love affair with the Harvest Moon Coneflower.

One of the purple coneflowers in my yard.

This a website photo of what I was
hoping to see in my yard.

While I was watching a local gardening segment on TV a few years back, a well known local gardening expert recommended the Harvest Moon Coneflower as a low maintenance garden addition that added color without a lot of work. I began looking for the Harvest Moon Coneflower in the spring (not quite realizing yet that nurseries usually sell perennials just before they are expected to bloom). So I waited and waited, then looked and looked.  I saw other types of coneflower (like the White Swan-which, in my opinion, is one big misnomer) but not the Harvest Moon.  I began to call it my "white whale".

I finally found the Harvest Moon Coneflower at a nursery a couple of years later.  The cost of a medium sized (1 gallon) container was about $17, that seemed steep for this frugal gardener. I gave it a lot of thought, then decided I had waited so patiently for so long, had saved in so many other places, and I brought one home.

Beyond sad, this is the Harvest Moon
Coneflower in my yard this year.

A few years later I am still waiting for this poor plant to do something other than look sad.  At first I had it planted in the side yard.  It was in a protected area and it seemed to like its spot just fine.  It budded up and I was excited to see it in all its glory but it never happened.  I suspected that squirrels or birds at first ate the buds off and though disappointed, hoped for better the following year.  The following year the plant seemed healthy and grew so large it flopped and most of the blooms ended up on the ground.  So I attempted to stake it.  It looked just o.k. but not the same as the purple coneflower that stood up straight and tall even when in full bloom.  So, the next year I moved the Harvest Moon to the front yard thinking it would do better.  Less apt to be eaten, less apt to flop, and I hoped less apt to disappoint. But it's gotten worse with each passing year.

The moral of the story is that you can do everything right (right soil, right amount of sun, right amount of water, etc) and still have a plant that for some reason or another just doesn't return the love.  It's o.k. to let it go.  This a an addendum to the "No Mercy" Rule, knowing when to say good-bye.

A Vacation from Vacationland

Over the past couple of weeks we took a vacation outside of Maine.  While it was good to get away I was in such a hurry to pack and get work (paid not hobby) related items done that I didn't even take the time to mow the lawn.  Fortunately, my sister was kind enough to mow the back yard while she was house and cat sitting so that we didn't have to sickle our way through to the composter when we got home.  However, I didn't realize the extent of my neglect until the first weekend home.  The weeds had taken over throughout the front lawn and most of the flower beds. Yikes!  I knew that weeds like sun and rain as much as any other plant, but I guess I had gotten complacent.

The good news is that it is never too late to get a handle on your yard.  Using scissors to deadhead the plants that blossomed while we were away, a two pronged weed puller (especially useful for large dandelions) and a narrow spade, after a few short (ok, a few more than a few) hours, the yard looks even better than before we left (or maybe it looks that way because it's neat and organized, like cleaning out a clothes closet).  After the next rain and bit of beautiful weather, it will probably be a mess again (like your closet before laundry day) but it's the natural cycle, so go with it and don't get discouraged.

Another good summer activity (besides dead heading and weeding, see, gardening can be fun!) is to take stock of your plants, what works and what doesn't.  For instance, I realize that in my haste to put in plants the last two years I didn't exactly plan their placement as well as I should have.  I currently have an incredibly tall grass plant (a stray my sister dropped off) far too close to a couple of peonies (it casts a shadow over both) plus two daylilies that are side by side (same color) that should be moved to either side of a complimentary red wine weigelia.  There are other adjustments that need to be made and hopefully I will remember to do them all.

Sorry if I am repeating myself repeating myself

I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this next pet peeve in an earlier post (possibly two, but I'm old, I forget) but I really dislike it when people plant the exact same perennial and/or shrub in a straight row of multiples.  There is a house in my neighborhood with three white pieris japonica under one window and nothing under the opposing window on the other side of their front door.  I wanted to take a picture of it to demonstrate here, but didn't dare tick off a neighbor.  But it's not unusual.  I think we all know a house that has a walkway lined with hostas of all the same size and color, or a row of lilacs,  or the dreaded yews.  I'm not quite sure why people plant like this.  It seems so very unimaginative.  Hostas come in different colors, and so do lilacs and pieris japonica, but, alas, not the yew, so why limit your yard's appeal?

I feel the same way about trees.  Our neighbors (note, plural) like to plant two of one variety.  One house has two red maples, another two weeping cherries, still another two lindens.  I'm not against any of these trees, in fact I really like them, just one at a time, please.  For perennials and shrubs, mix 'em up a little.  Planting for impact is actually a good idea, repeating colors and blooms flatters your yard, and makes those blooms stand out, whereas planting in straight rows, looks o.k. (and I mean just "o.k.") while blooming, but is blah afterwards.

There are exceptions to every pet peeve, however.  The Audubon Society near us has a beautiful peony garden where peonies have been planted in long rows. They hold a "Peony Social" each year to celebrate the blossoming of the peonies.  I am also all for planting shrubs if you plan to create a garden maze in your own backyard.  And, if you do create a maze, you will find you can ignore my other pet peeve, using electric garden shears to trim your shrubs into straight little boxes.

As my bird seed stealing friend might say, it's variety that makes life nice.