More Garden Charm!

 

Well... that picture looks sorta small and doesn't convey the extended view through the garden. It took me by surprise: I was hard at work on the back side of the Blue Garden and I looked up and realized that there is an incredibly long perspective all the way through the Blue Garden, past one of Bob's fabulous (new) sculpture, past the golden Chamaecyparis obtusa "Crippsii", past the Rosa rugosa all the way to the horse barn. Why had I never partaken of this view?

(Delphinium in a cage! It keeps them from toppling in the wind (and goodness knows we've had monster winds of late!) and it keeps Robin the Good and myself from running into them when we're at work in the garden. Gotta love that blue color!)

Probably I was too hard at work, planting, edging, weeding and generally trying to get this year's garden into shape. And I'm almost done. (*1) I have a couple of orphans still in need of the perfect home- a stray Anagallis monelli, two small cups of Morning Glories, a few other stragglers. But most of the heavy lifting is done and the garden looks pretty damned good!

An overhead picture of a cluster of containers on the corner of the terrace. Dizzying but in a good way. Oh and Happy Summer Solstice!

(*1) Ah yes! the eternal question... is the garden EVER "done"? There is- inevitably- a section that could have benefited from editing, or rethinking. My gardens always have at least one problem zone. I know the area I'm thinking of right now; not sure what to do about it. Alas!

The "Famous" Blue Garden

 

 

If I do say so myself, The Blue Garden (or "The Booze Garden" lovingly dubbed thusly because of all those delightful blue beer and wine bottles) is really looking good this year. When I am feeling overwhelmed by the amount of planting/edging/weeding/maintenance that the totality of our horticultural empire requires, I visit The Blue Garden and feel at peace. It's filled in, it has texture and color (blue) and flowers and foliage and it looks pretty great!

It's hard to convey just how blue things really are. There's tall Delphinium (here in the center but hard to see!) that are the same light blue as the sky (guess that's why this cultivar is named "Summer Skies".) and a nifty blue bird's nest spruce that looks spectacular this year (thank you Beatrice and John! a birthday gift a few years back) and my Blue Atlas Cedar- nicknamed "The Etch-A-Sketch Tree" as it's very narrow...

 

That's a detail of the Bird's Nest. And you can sorta see the truly brilliant blue of the Veronica directly above it (if you squint!) Blue is a notoriously hard color to photograph as it's recessive and tends to disappear... don't I know!

Slightly (?) better photo of the "Summer Skies" Delphinium and  the Blue Atlas Cedar (It's the ratty looking thing just to the left of the bushy Chamaecyparis in the center. I LIKE those spindly odd-ball trees!!) And of course, blue bottles in buckets and on stalks and edging the walkway...

And yes, that's the lovely Robin the Good photobombing on the mosaic walk way! She's very reticent about letting me actually photograph her; I'm lucky I got her tail end! (But she's never far away.)

Ooops! I shot this picture before I mulched the Agave with white quartz rocks; it looks even more dramatic now! But this sucker is mighty impressive! I had to wear leather gloves when I transferred it from the container I purchased him to this metal urn. Did I mention that I like spindly, spiky plants? I guess I also like chunky, spiky plants! And it really is a great metallic blue. 

I know in past years of posting, I have featured The Blue Garden but it really has matured. And I do keep having fun seeking out those elusive blue flowers. Still to come are Heavenly Blue Morning Glories and hopefully, some Bachelor's Buttons. Somehow I lost the seeds for my Forget-Me-Nots (Cynoglossum "firmament"): not sure if I threw them away or some crazy bird stole the packet but poof! they were gone!

Behind the Green Door

Hahhahahaa! Isn't that the name of a 1970's porn movie? (*1) Well, behind this green door there is our living room and- nothing to see here! Anyway, the picture is simply to show our attempt at a "classic" "formal" container planting by our front door as we're clearly such classic, formal individuals!
So as a complete break from the COVID 19 crisis and the newly minted crisis of The Orange Menace threatening to call in the military to squelch protesters after a million too many deaths of Black Americans at the hands of racists, I've been gardening! And making ART! Two entirely wholesome activities that help keep me from having panic attacks...(*2). I'm sure I have company in alternately despairing over the violence and hatred in this country and trying to avoid the news altogether.
So here are some recent wholesome activity updates:

Here's a view of the newly weeded and resurrected Blue Garden. This are was so full of escaped run-amok Blue Lyme Grass (elymus arenarius to those with a penchant for Latin) which does tend towards being an aggressive- but attractive!- grass. I dug up about three hundred cubic miles of the stuff and re-planted it in two metal surrounds. Hopefully, I can enjoy its powdery blueness while controlling its zeal to conquer. I also planted two more sky blue truly beautiful Delphinium; a close up please!

And that color is accurate. I am holding off planting the deep purple Delphinium here as we're still enjoying its company on the terrace in a pot. The Blue Garden is an endlessly entertaining exercise in pigment restraint; so few flowers are really blue. Most tend towards a smudgy off-lavendar kind of shade. As most of you will notice that I tend to be pretty rampant in my color interactions in other parts of the garden. In general, I like a lot of color.
But what else did I rip out beside Blue Lyme Grass? This bed was (and parts still are!) totally overrun with poison ivy. The bane of my gardening existence! Here's a lovely shot of what I'm up against:

Weaving its evil way through everything. I carefully donned dirty clothes, latex gloves and tall boots and commenced to rip it out. Then I stuffed it all in a trash bag and left it to rot. I carefully peeled all my clothes off, jettisoned them to the washing machine and scrubbed my hands, wrist and face (as I knew I touched it) with Dawn dish soap. It was interesting because I think the poison ivy juices that contacted my face wanted to erupt, but couldn't so my face felt "funny" for a day and then nothing happened. But look at knee where I had a tear in my pants:

I got a minor case there! I wish I had thought to wash my knee. But I'll live and I did remove most of that noxious weed. Not bad for a day's digging.





(*1) Yup! A "classic" of the kind (apparently).
(*2) And no, I am not denying the awfulness of what is occurring. You know me: I have three pieces going in my studio- directly in response to The Orange Menace and his evil ways! The newest one is "Human Scum", inspired by his description of Never Trumper Republicans. Really?

Unexpected Tradgi-Versity 31 1/2

There was a frost a few nights ago and it killed the basil... you know what that means! Happy Non-Anniversary to Bob and me! Okay, so the fact that our non-anniversary typically lands towards the end of September or beginning of October means nothing when you get a bizarre and unexpected frost that obliterates your only-just-planted basil but every other tender annual you tenderly started from seed... Oh the horror! The horror!
I lost two full flats of zinnia linearis (from my own saved seed!) which are impossible to buy at nurseries nowadays. A full flat of heliotrope (that I started from seed) and a number of individual "premium" annuals that I'd secured for filling containers succumbed, too. I was pretty much devastated but then Bob and I decided to celebrate 31 1/2 years...
So I had to re-purchase the plants that I could (tomatoes, peppers, basil etc) and simply mourn the ones I couldn't (whole flats of odd ball annuals). I lucked onto a slew of calendulas (in the same color range as the zinnias I'd planted) and bought enough to fill the bed that empty. It will look fine by mid-summer but I really LIKE those zinnias I lost!
Here's the replacement calendulas... all things considered, they'll look pretty good quite soon.

There's Maggie in the background. Hello Maggie! (She likes to watch Robin and I plant.)
So other things going on...

Be still my heart! We all know I am crazy for Delphinium; oooooh! This is a long running love affair. And wouldn't you know, I go to Stop and Shop for something and I see- across the parking lot, despite my face mask fogging my sunglasses- a truck unloading flowers at the other door. I make a bee line, but am told they have to unload the truck before they can sell the flowers. (Yeah, it's eight feet up on a huge rack.) So I procure whatever food was I needed, put it in our car (shout out to Trusty!) and immediately reapproach the plant people who have now offloaded. Sold!! I have to go all the way back in to the store, but this Delphinium is coming home with me, baby!

In a heavy mist today, I got a lot done in all parts of the garden, including the Shade Border which looks quite okay despite my sort of ignoring it while I plant many other things. Here's a close up of the Kerria Japonica:

Nice! Single orange blooms, impeccable variegation... this is a winner. Lots of nice things erupting here, suitable for my next post.
And I know you can't smell it from there, but the Abelia is amazing! Loaded with blooms- top to bottomus- and just great:

Also, the lilac that Mommy gave me a million years ago is blooming. I'm so happy about this. This particular offspring is from a white lilac that Mommy had- in Durham!- like fifty years ago is now residing and flowering in my Lilac Border. that made me happy (and a bit sad). But it smells so nice...

Moving the Goal Posts

Can you see it? Can you see what's different? To the occasional visitor it might not be super evident but to us it's major: the gate is GONE!! There was a scabby wire fence separating this section of the yard from the "outside world". In order for us to access the vegetable garden or compost pile, you had to exit through a gate; not always easy when carrying a pile of kitchen scraps or wheeling a wheel barrow. Psychologically, it was a big barrier. Besides, Lil' Robin the Good was doomed to remain on the other side of the fence.
Yesterday, we finally moved the fence. Bob had done preparations in the form of selecting and resurfacing the posts- stout cedar posts that he employed an ancient Japanese wood burning technique to preserve. The gate got moved first:

(Yes, the gate will be repainted soon.) Then we moved the wire fence and let Robin out of the house. First she approached what used to be a fence, apparently uncertain that it was gone. Then she stepped forward hesitantly, like a force field was going to rebuff her. Then she exploded out into the new area- lots more space and smells to explore!

And I discovered lots of weeds! Holy cow! That fence prevented me from accessing the side of the Blue Garden and weeds and invasive ornamental grasses had run amuck. (I guess I know what I'll be doing for the next week or so.) But I did get a good idea of how to reshape the edge of that garden...

In all fairness, this side looks pretty good. And here's a close up of my favorite pale blue "Belladonna"Delphinium:

That color is pretty accurate; like a summer sky. I'll have to take a few pictures of the area behind the Blue Garden- sort of our utility room for the vegetable garden. Bob constructed a lovely fence out of old slats from recycled stockade fence affixed to a simple wire grid fence. It looks great and functions to afford more privacy while composting or working in the vegetable garden. It's beautiful! (And worthy of it's own blog post... coming soon.)
Here's the view from the driveway side looking back to our yard.

Kinda makes the propane tank surround look wonky... hahahaha! If it's not one thing it's another. But the overall affect is one of splendor and open vistas. Come by and see it!

Surprise!

Bob received an early birthday gift from me. For the past three years, I've been meaning to get a Star Magnolia for Bob as he'd expressed his admiration for these trees every spring. But come his actual birthday, the trees were past bloom so when I'd confront them at garden centers, they'd be played out grey sticks- none too impressive as a present! This year, we encountered a magnolia in full bloom near a store and I ran out the next day to a nursery and bought the little tree above. We know exactly where it's going to go.

And that leads to the thanks that are overdue to our friend Tina who last year divided some of her daffodils and delivered a 5 gallon container full of bulbs to yours truly. Tina has been collecting and planting daffodils for years and has an amazing display on their back hillside- every color and petal arrangement and sepal to corona ratio is represented. It's really exceptional at this time of year. So I dutifully planted all the bulbs given... not easy as our soil is like rock and gravel until dug up and amended. But they're coming up! I'm certain that with passing years, they'll thicken up (I planted them in clusters of 5 or 6) and will only get better. But it's a start on springtime magnificence!

And that reminds me that I totally forgot (a lot on my mind and very short of time!) to mention one possible reason my delphinium seedlings did so well... could have been the generous doses of raw manure! I purchased a few delphinium for Balleck's Nursery in East Haddam last year. They do have pretty fabulous Delphinium; bigger and more bumptious than most nurseries. Anita Balleck, the probably 90 year old proprietor started talking Delphinium with me. She told me a story about seeing tremendous delphinium at some famous garden in England. Like acres of seven foot tall blue monsters. The next time she was there, the Delphinium were past, and there were two men with a tractor and a trailer full of raw pig shit. They were shoveling and pouring this hot, stinking mess right around all those Delphinium, which were wallowing in it and eating it all up. So she maintained that's where good Delphinium start: a whole lot of shit. Bob ladled the horse manure on last fall ( I guess we have Crisco the Stallion to thank for that!) and looks like a big success this spring. (Bottles courtesy of our white wine drinking friends, with whom we trade manure for rocks).

1040- A- Go- Go and Various Little (and BIG!) Green Things

Yes, I'm a happy woman as I finally finished my taxes. As I confided to a friend earlier today, I thought about doing my taxes back in January but successfully avoided them until this week. Do we know how much I really hate doing taxes? Have I mentioned just how crazy I think the government is to trust (math challenged) artists such as yours truly to do their own taxes? It's not the paying of taxes; we need schools and roads and hospitals and the like. It's that awful, spirit- crushing paperwork and those god-forsaken plug ugly forms. But thanks to the helpful ministrations of our good friend John the Artist/Photographer/Accountant (quite the impressive abilities avalanche!) who held the hands of Bob and myself last year, walking us through the Valley of the Shadow of Taxes, I only screamed out loud six times while doing this year's installment. Thank you John! (You know who you are, and I dutifully used the pen with your name on it to fill out those evil forms.) Can't wait for my refund check!
And referencing another kind of green stuff, I am also happy that little green things are emerging as if on cue. It's been a long, cold winter into spring but this week saw warmer temperatures and a bit of rain that caused garden eruptions. Witness the above miracle! Last year, I started Delphinium from seeds, specifically the variety "Blue Bird" (a bright mid-blue with a white center.) I was worried as the bloomed modestly last year and I find far and away the trickiest thing with Delphinium is wintering them over. They really hate freezing and thawing and tend to succumb to crown rot and all sorts of other pestilence. But my wondering eyes spied seven or eight of my seedlings robustly popping out of Terra Firma just this week. Huzzah.
At the opposite end of life's cycle, Bob and our friend Joe felled a mighty maple this past week.

It was a very tall tree. I'm glad that Bob had help as these things can be tricky. (Joe had a close call with a mid-sized tree that decided to shed a shed a sudden branch, square on his head. He wound up in the hospital, lucky to be alive and kicking.) This one stopped falling half way into it's descent, at a rakish angle. I looked out our kitchen window and witnessed a stuck diagonal. Several minutes later, there was a resounding boom as it hit the ground, finally relenting to be timber. It is a beginning on next winter's fire wood. Here's another shot: