Plant Stew

Last year, Kara just happened to be at Lowe's at just the right time. One of the managers was marking things down in the garden department and the prices were negotiable. She picked up several great things, one of which was a large styrofoam container. She got several of them for five dollars each, and I bought one from her.

This thing is bigger than any other pot I've tried to fill and for me, putting together an attractive container full of plants is akin to landscaping. It's just not something I do well. I was pleased, however, with how it turned out last year and this year I tried to duplicate my combination somewhat, but I like last year's better.


First of all, I didn't want or need to fill that big pot entirely with potting soil. I placed a drainage tray down in it and its diameter was of a size that allowed it to stop about two-thirds of the way down into the pot. Then I added some stones for drainage and started potting things up.

I wanted something tall in it as a focus feature, so I got a small smoke tree (Cotinus coggygria), then surrounded it with coleus. For vining down around the edges, I chose sweet potato vine (Ipomoea batatas), one in purple and one in green variegated. I added asparagus fern (Asparagus densiflorus 'Sprengeri') as fluff to tie in the height of the coleus with the trailing of the sweet potato vine, and it provided a different texture as well, although it now isn't even visible much, due to the proliferation of the coleus. There's a helichrysum (Helichrysum thianschanicum 'Icicle') for a different color, towards the back.

Last year, I did much the same thing, except I also had some fiber optic grass (Isolepis cernua) toward the front. Halfway through the summer, that wasn't doing so well, which is the same experience I'd had with it in the ground the summer before, so it eventually got torn out and I didn't use it this year. I love it, but I haven't figured out how to keep it looking good all summer long.

In the fall, when it's time to dismantle the container, I'll plant the smoke tree in the garden for overwintering and use it again next year. It doesn't grow all that much while in the container, nor while it's wintering in the ground, so I'll probably get a few more years' use out of it this way.

The base plants in this year's pot have grown quite large, while the smoke tree hasn't, and it doesn't look proportioned right to me. Also, this year's is missing that pop of the lime green coleus.

There are many things I can do if I have a recipe or a picture I can copy, but I lack the creativity to come up with something on my own. Maybe that will come in time, with experience, or I can just call my Mom whose pores are oozing with talent in that department and let her design my planter.

Moving Day

I've been waiting to do some moving of some things in the garden until we'd gotten a decent rain, and we got 3½ inches last week. That really perked things up in a big way, including the grass, and we once again have a green lawn as opposed to the golden brown one we had before. I didn't want to further stress the rain-starved plants by moving them, but I decided it would be okay to go ahead and do it today.

It seems like I was playing musical plants, but sometimes you just can't be certain what will work where until you put it there. Sometimes it's just right and sometimes it's all wrong. So you move it. And sometimes you move it again. Today was moving day for:

• Delphinium grandiflorum 'Blue Mirror' - This was moved from the front of the house, where it was doing very well, to make room for some new shrubs. It joined the larkspur that I grew from seed, as they look similar.
  
  
• Spiraea japonica 'Walbuma' - This also was relocated from the front of the house to make room for the new shrubs. I planted it between two other Spiraea japonica 'Goldmound.' We had originally purchased three of each one, for planting in two different places, then two of one and one of the other died. This will work too, and we'll take the dead ones back to Menard's for a refund, since they have a one year guarantee and we purchased these in May.
  
  
• Ratibida pinnata (Gray-headed coneflower) - This was purchased at a plant sale as a donated plant from someone's garden and was mislabeled. I didn't have any of these, so it was okay, but when it bloomed and I saw that it wasn't what I thought it was, I realized it wasn't where I would have placed it, had I known. So today it got moved to the back of our property, between a pine tree and the burning bushes (Euonymus alata).
  
  
• Iris reticulata - I didn't like these where they were and I'm not sure where they're going to go just yet (I'll figure that out tomorrow), but I dug them up so I could plant my new violas there.
  
  
• Aruncus dioicus 'Kneiffii' (Goat's Beard)- I had gotten this at Lowe's Greenhouse in Cleveland when Mom and I went to the Cleveland Flower Show this spring, and I had planted it in full sun. I don't know what I was thinking, but it clearly wasn't happy there during our hot, dry summer. The leaves got burned and it wasn't growing well. It's now in the shade/part shade garden near the honeysuckle trellis. I've got astilbe there and it loves that location, so this should do well there, too, since they basically like the same growing conditions.
  
  
• Platycodon grandiflorus 'Scentimental Blue' (Balloon Flower) - The original location was good for this and it has been growing well, but a nearby (invasive) plant called 'Limelight' artemisia has been creeping closer and closer to it. I've continually removed some of the artemisia in order to keep it under control (I'll deal with this in a big way later), but the Japanese Fantail Willow (Salix sachalinensis 'Sekka') that grows in the middle of the artemisia has grown larger as well, so the balloon flower had started to look crowded there. It joined two other platycodon varieties - 'Astra Pink' and 'Astra Semi-Double Lavender.' I think it's better that these are all in the same location anyway.
  
  
• Pulmonaria 'Majeste' (Lungwort) - The little section just under the kitchen window that used to be my herb garden has just gotten to be too shady to grow herbs, so I put some pulmonarias and other shade lovers there, but apparently it's too shady even for this. I have another pulmonaria there that does just fine ('Trevi Fountain'), but 'Majeste' doesn't like it. I moved it to the trellis area which is shady, but much brighter. I've got 'Opal' there and it's thriving, so we'll see how it does there.
  
  
• Tiarella cordifolia 'Brandywine' (Running Foam Flower) - Same situation as 'Majeste.' I moved it to the trellis area too, near another foam flower, 'Spring Symphony.'
  

There are a few other things I need to move, like a couple of hostas which have outgrown their spots and the hollyhock seedlings that came up in the stones about a foot away from their mamas. THAT will be a JOB, and I've been putting it off. Meanwhile, they're getting larger and larger. Why is it you can give a plant ideal conditions and it dies, yet it will grow in stones, neglected and never getting watered in a drought year? Even the weevils have left these babies alone.

Gardens are constantly changing - a work in progress - a learning experience. As long as I garden, I'll move things here and there to please either me or the plants. In the end, the plant usually gets its way over mine, because if the plants ain't happy, the gardener ain't happy either!

A Summer Treat

Many hippeastrums are native to South Africa and I guess my 'San Remo' thinks it's still there. It's blooming in my garden. BLOOMING. I know it's not all that rare that an amaryllis will rebloom, but I've never had it happen. In the summer. In my garden. Until now.

My amaryllis spend summers in the ground, in not particularly good soil. In fact, I call this area the 'orphan garden.' Anything that isn't doing particularly well gets banished to the orphan garden and pretty much ignored. If it somehow survives a season there, it gets to come back and play with the rest of the team. If not, it's gone.

I know that doesn't make a lot of sense, but somehow it works and I've rarely had to throw anything out. And when I say it's not good soil, I mean it. Tough, ugly, native clay. It's never been amended. The amaryllis seem to like it just fine.


Some people leave the bulbs in their pots and sink them in the ground, but I take mine out and plant them in. Last year was the first summer that I did this, and it worked well. Several of them produced baby bulblets by the time I dug them up in late September.

'San Remo' is definitely the star of the orphan garden this summer!

Just Another Pretty Face

I've seen these before but have never had my camera handy. This time, I didn't have it with me either, but I stopped what I was doing (deadheading) and ran up to the house to get it and hoped this colorful guy didn't take off.

He let me snap photos of him until I tired of it, which is more than a lot of bugs will allow you to do. Perhaps he knows he's a handsome fella and is more than happy to bask in the admiration of those who come across him.

I wish he could have told me his name, though. I've been trying to track it down, but so far have been unable to identify him. I think he's probably a moth of some sort, but I really don't know. Most of the time his antennae were tucked back under his body, but now and then he'd bring them out and 'sniff' the air with them.


EDIT: Thanks to Alyssa, this has now been identified as a Tropical Ermine Moth (Atteva punctella), also known as Ailanthus webworm.

Native to south Florida and the American tropics, it migrates north for the winter, sometimes as far north as eastern Canada. Its host plant is the Tree of Heaven (Ailanthus altissima) as well as Paradise Tree (Simarouba glauca), which are native to China and were introduced into the United States in the late 18th century.

The Tree of Heaven was the subject of Betty Smith's famous novel, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

While the larva stage of this beautiful moth wraps itself in leaves of the host plant and eventually consumes them, they are rarely a problem. The adult moth is a pollinator.

Join

Something's Rotten in Ohio

Romie is a very thrifty person. Generally, I am not, though I have been known to pinch a penny, given the right motivation. So maybe it was the unlikeliness of me trying to convince him of the value of composting that made him suspicious and hesitant. Whatever it was, he's now seen the advantage of having our own compost bin. I don't think I've completely won him over, but he'll see soon enough that I was right.

I wasn't all that crazy about composting before this summer either. I didn't think we had enough waste to warrant going to the effort. But when I began to see how much I was throwing in the field or piling on the firepit, I knew we were throwing away potential 'black gold.'

So tonight, as I filled yet another green tub full of deadheading and pruning greens, I simply dumped it on the grass at the back of the lot by the fence and explained to Romie how he was going to construct the confines of the compost bin. Amazingly enough, he didn't give me 'that look.'

Garbage in, organic fertilizer out. Sounds simple, doesn't it? Well, it is. Sort of. There are a few things to keep in mind:

You need a balance of carbon (paper, sawdust, wood chips, straw, leaves) and nitrogen (food, grass clippings, manures).

A compost pile needs air. Turn the compost with a pitchfork at least every other week.

Compost needs to stay moist. If you don't get regular rainfall, water it.

Keep your compost pile warm. It likes to be 90°-140° F, and the best way to achieve this is to not let the pile get too small. Ideal size is at least 3' x 3' x 3'.

Big chunks of stuff takes longer to compost, so if you need to chop it a bit before adding it, this will only help your compost to be ready to use sooner.

There are things you shouldn't add to a compost pile:

Meat, bones, fish, grease, and oil. These things attract rodents.

Pet waste, which can contain disease.

Weeds with seeds and runners. Other weeds are fine to add.

Plants with diseases and insects.


Treated wood or anything with chemicals or strong preservatives.

Ashes. They slow down the process of turning your waste into compost.

So that's the short of it. We'll see how this works out.


*Composting information from Texas A&M University website.

Ice Cream, Herbs, Wine, Horses, Plants, and Ice Cream

Back on Father's Day, Dad asked me if I would like to go on a bus trip with him and Mom. The YWCA in Van Wert was taking a trip to the Sandusky, Ohio area, with stops at an herb farm, winery, city gardens, a carousel museum, and a garden center. Oh, and there was ice cream involved. Dad's treat. Count me in!

Yesterday, we boarded an Executive Coach bus between 6:30 and 7:00 a.m. and headed northeast. We stopped at a McDonald's in Findlay for breakfast, where I had an Egg McMuffin, which is one of only two things I'll eat there. This is one thing that McDonald's gets right besides their fries.

Our first visit of the day was to Mulberry Creek Herb Farm. What a lovely place out in the country near Huron, Ohio. The owner gave us a very informative tour of his gardens there (which are all organic) and imparted lots of information we can really use.

I was on a quest for 'Kent Beauty' oregano and was disappointed that yet another place I've looked didn't have it. Mark showed me a couple of other rotundifolia oreganos that he'd recommend but didn't have for sale either, but they're all very pretty and it's late in the season so I'm really not surprised there weren't any left.

Mark informed us that if we purchased one of any plant he had for sale, we could have a second one for free. Well, who can resist a deal like that? I tried to show restraint though, and purchased Large Yellow Foxglove (Digitalis grandiflora), which is a perennial foxglove (versus the traditional biennial variety). I wanted to buy some hard-neck garlic (Allium sativum var. ophioscorodon 'Music'), but didn't see any, so I asked about it. It was curing out, but I was able to purchase two of them for planting in October.

Mulberry Creek Farms features many, many miniatures and there were charming fairy gardens planted as well as a large train landscape that had scenes peppered with miniatures that were amazingly similar to their full-sized counterparts.

After being treated to black cherry ice cream with chocolate morsels and spiced with cardamom (Yum!), we got back on the bus and headed for Sandusky.

We stopped for lunch at The Angry Trout, which overlooks Sandusky Bay, where I had salad, meat loaf, mashed potatoes, a hard roll and carrot cake for dessert.


Next stop was Firelands Winery, where we viewed a video presentation about the history and business of growing grapes and winemaking in the microclimate here around Lake Erie. The grapes are grown on Isle St. George, which has a unique growing situation:

Only a mile and a half wide and even less in length, Isle St. George is crisscrossed by a network of underground limestone caves. As the warm lake water circulates through these caves, ground frost is delayed until late fall. When the fall air becomes cooler, the warm lake water heats the surrounding air and land. Before winter sets in, the lake islands enjoy a 200-day frost-free growing season, remarkable and unusual for this climate. On North Bass Island, the grapes are harvested as much as six weeks after harvesting ends on the mainland. The United States Government has recognized the area's unique climate, soil, topographic and historic conditions that produce distinctive characteristics in the grapes grown here, and has established the area from the Bass Island and the southern shore of Lake Erie - stretching from Toledo into New York State - as the Lake Erie Appellation of Origin. When a Lake Erie designation is indicated on the label of a wine, it means that the grapes used in the wine came from this specific viticulture area.¹

After tasting five of the wines they offer at Firelands, we took a tour of the facilities and took time to shop their gift shop and make wine purchases. I didn't buy any bottles of wine, although the ice wine in the slender blue bottles tempted me ($29.95 stopped me).

There were some old-fashioned blown glass ornaments I'd seen in one of their display cases upstairs but I didn't see any for sale in the gift shop. I wanted one, because most of the ornaments on our Christmas tree are this type. I asked about them and was told they were out of stock. Would they consider selling one from the display case? The sales associate quietly said, "Sure, let's go pick one out." I always say that it doesn't hurt to ask, and I now have a blown glass cluster of grapes for our Christmas tree, and this will be a nice memento of our visit to the winery.



We traveled to downtown Sandusky, where we were supposed to leave the bus and take a walking tour of the city gardens, but the weather had other plans. Due to the rain, we stayed in the bus and an employee of the city parks department narrated our mobile tour of the beautiful gardens.

Adjacent to the downtown gardens was the Carousel Museum, housed in the former Post Office. We were given an informative presentation about some of the history of carousel horses and got to see an artist painting a horse that would later be won by someone who had purchased a lottery ticket for it.

Then we took a ride! I can't remember the last time I rode on a carousel, and it's amazing how such a simple thing can be so much fun.



I picked up another blown glass ornament here, of a carousel horse.





Corso's in Sandusky was our next stop and it was somewhat of a feeding frenzy. I mean, you know what happens when you dump a bunch of gardeners off in a large nursery having a sale and offering you a free plant, don't you? Here's what happened to me:










Coleus 'Fishnet Stockings', Viola cornuta 'Columbine', Sedum makinoi 'Ogon'

Time to head home, but not before stopping at Toft's Dairy for ice cream. For two dollars, I got a pint of Caramel Mountain Tracks which Toft's describes as "Caramel Turtles climbing mountains of toffee ice cream flowing with streams of Mackinac Fudge and praline pecans." Oh myyyyyyyy... I couldn't finish it all so Mom did me the favor.



Though tiring, it was a wonderful day with a great group of people, not the least of which were two that mean more than the world to me. Love you, Mom and Dad!




¹"Our Process", Firelands Winery website.

"Ree-a-Ree-a-Ree!"

If you lived here, you'd know exactly what sound that is. For nearly a month now, we've been hearing it during the day and in the early evening. Once the sun goes down, the sound disappears into the night, about the time the frogs and crickets are tuning up for their orchestral song. But those of you who aren't fortunate enough to be blessed with these lumbering, flying, buzzing, singing insects, meet the cicada:


Cicadas became well-known most recently in 2004, when Brood X emerged in great numbers. This brood was a 17-year periodical cicada, which differs from the cicadas we have around here. Oh, some areas very close to us were invaded by them, but we live one county north of their range, and were spared.

I do remember the invasion, though. I flew by plane to Arkansas during that time, with a layover in Cincinnati. That leg of the flight was in a small plane and we disembarked on the tarmac. Walking up to the terminal entrance, it was quite apparent that cicadas had crawled out of the ground here in great numbers. You actually could have scooped them up with a shovel.

There are 13-year periodical cicadas, and the next emergence of these buggers will be in 2008, but we'll miss those, too. Cincinnati is very close to their range, so they may get blessed again. I would imagine there will be a year when both the 13- and 17-year broods emerge simultaneously. Heaven help Cincy.

The cicadas we get here are annual or 'dog-day' cicadas and they differ a bit in coloring and they're larger, at about two inches long. There are two- and five-year broods, but they're staggered, so some emerge every year and they never usually cause a problem.

They emerge from the ground during July and August and live for two to four weeks. Sometimes, if the weather has been wet around their emergence time (certainly not this year), they will build mud tubes that rise out of the ground about three to four inches to escape the saturated soil. These are sometimes mistaken for crayfish holes.

When they crawl out of the ground, they attach themselves to a vertical surface, usually a tree trunk and they crawl out of their skin, leaving it behind. The molt can be somewhat disconcerting if you come across it. Ghostly, sort of.

When I was a kid, we called these things locusts, but that's not what they are. Locusts are large brown grasshoppers, and we have those, too.

Folklore says that six weeks after you hear the first cicada will come the first frost. That may be true in some areas, but for us, sixty days seems to be the accepted time period associated with this. I heard the first cicada on July 3rd, which would put first frost at September 1st. While not impossible - look at when we had snow in the spring - it's not likely we'll be hit with a frost then, with an average first frost date of September 25th for us.

The cats like to chase the cicadas and eat them. They don't bite or sting and they aren't toxic to cats or dogs and sometimes they eat them in great numbers. People eat them, too. (Not this people.) Asians and Native Americans have been eating them for centuries and they're said to taste somewhat like asparagus or minty shrimp. Umm ... okay. They are arthropods, as are shrimp, so I guess that makes sense. I'm not about to taste test them, though.

I'm glad they provide entertainment and a treat for the cats, and I like hearing their "Ree-a-Ree-a-Ree!" because it's just one more thing that says it's summer.


Photo of cicada skin from Hilton Pond.

Tools of the Trade

I've been meaning to clean my tools since early spring and today was the day. I didn't really clean them, I just hosed them off, since they're far from being put away for the season, but they're much cleaner than they were.

It's amazing, all the things I use on a pretty regular basis in my gardens, and just as amazing, what I don't. We all have our favorites and somehow we all manage to get this business of growing flowers and edibles accomplished. Herewith, my repertoire:

HAND TOOLS

When I first got serious about gardening back in 2005, Smith & Hawken had some heirloom tools they offered at sale prices. Even discounted, they were pretty pricey, but I've never regretted spending the money on them. They're heavy-duty and have stood up to whatever I've thrown at them, and I can be pretty abusive to my tools.

This set of hand tools came with a wooden cabinet in which to store them. Most of the summer, they aren't in it, but they should be, because it never fails that I want one of them and I have to chase it down somewhere (usually the trowel).

On the far left is my trowel. I LOVE THIS TROWEL! I love the wooden handle, I love the size of the blade, I love the leather strap, but most of all I love that it's made of heavy stainless steel and that the neck has never ever bent, no matter how much I dig and pry with it.

Next is the fork. I never used this one very much until this summer. It's great for transplanting (when I can't find my trowel) and works very well for cultivating the soil in tight places.

In the middle is the dibber. Or dibble. Or dibbler. It's called by any of these names, and it's great for planting small bulbs in the fall. Just poke it in the ground, pivot it around to enlarge the hole as necessary, pull it out, and drop the bulb in.

Next is the weeding fork. I don't use this too much. I used it quite a bit the first year, because I swear, someone planted thistles in the vegetable garden. We've not even had one thistle this year, so I don't know what was up that summer. I got a blister in the palm of my hand from digging so many thistles out with this thing. That was the day I learned just one more reason that wearing gloves might be something I should consider doing.

On the far right is what I call my forky thing. If I'm looking for it, I'll say to Romie, "Have you seen my forky thing?" while doing the hand formation of it. I look like I'm giving the super secret signal that signifies my membership in a geeky club or something. It's really called a claw cultivator and I use it a LOT. I use it when I make my trenches for planting vegetable seeds in the spring. I use it when planting or transplanting plants that don't require a deep hole (when I can't find my trowel). I even use it for cultivating.


DIGGERS

These are my border spade and short shovel. I use the spade more than the shovel. I would probably not even need the shovel, but I thought I might, and since they were on sale, I bought it. I've read that short-handled shovels require more leg strength to use than long-handled shovels, which require more arm strength. Given that I'm a woman and women are generally weaker in the upper body, maybe I should get to know my short shovel better.

Romie uses the spade now and then for his projects, such as the flagstone walkway. But I use it when planting anything deeper than the trowel can handle. It's just the right size for me. If I need a hole dug deeper than this can do comfortably, I ask Romie to do it with his full-size shovel. It's not that I couldn't do it, and I sometimes do, but he's happy to help me out so I let him.

Again, these are from Smith & Hawken and like the hand tools, they're well made and will serve me for many years to come.


BYPASS PRUNERS

I can't say enough about my Felco No. 6 pruners. I have them with me much of the time and use them every single day. With as many flowers as we have, something always needs to be deadheaded. If I have these handy, I can keep up with it, doing a little at a time.

I use them for pruning shrubs and small branches on trees, too. You're not supposed to cut anything more than ¾-inch in diameter, but I've cut larger branches with them.

I've also used these in the locked closed position for minor digging (when I can't find my trowel). Yes, I know ... but I warned you at the beginning of this post that I'm a tool abuser.




LONG HANDLED CULTIVATOR

This is my hoe. I don't own a proper hoe. Well, we do have an old one and Romie uses it from time to time, but I prefer to use this. It seems to work better for me with our heavy clay soil.

I will admit it doesn't work that well if the soil is too wet, as it clumps and sticks to the tines, but I shouldn't be trying to work the soil when it's too wet anyway.

I've never really felt the need to use a regular hoe. (Breathe, Carol.)



GARDEN KNIFE

Mom gave this to me a couple of years ago and I use it far more than I ever thought I would. It's perfect for dividing perennials and it works well for loosening the root ball of a root-bound plant. I've used it for digging holes when planting, too (when I can't find my trowel).

I have a couple of lesser quality trowels running around here somewhere. I hate them generally, because they're cheap and flimsy, but they do come in handy when I can't find my real trowel, which will surprise you to know, happens quite often.

By the way, have you seen my trowel?

From Canada, With Love

I built a cairn a few weeks ago and one of my fellow garden bloggers, Jodi of bloomingwriter fame, left a comment suggesting that those who'd visited the gardens virtually, send a stone for our cairn. She offered to start it off.

Jodi has the hono(u)r of being the first person to contribute a stone to our cairn. Last Friday, just before we left for the weekend, I received a package from Canada. It took eight days to make its way about 2200 kilometers (1367 miles).

The stone that Jodi chose was gathered from the path down to Scott's Bay near her home in Nova Scotia. It's made of granite and she chose it because it has somewhat of a heart shape. I've placed it on the cairn and it now greets me, the cats, and every other visitor to our gardens as they enter them.

The heart shape is appropriate, Jodi. It symbolizes the ties that we as human beings have on this earth to each other, including yours and mine. They form by various means. Some live next-door, some live next-country, and some live on the other side of the world. Something brings us together in a moment, and we are better people for having met, regardless of the vehicle that transports us.

Many people don't understand these internet relationships we have. And if you've never made a friend this way, it's hard to understand. But once you have, it seems as normal as it was when we were kids and had pen pals in far-off lands. We exchanged letters relating our lives to each other and hoped that someday we could meet in person.

The internet, like the world, can be a scary place and there are precautions to be taken. But at some point, you make the choice to refuse to be as cynical as some and take a chance that those friends you've made in this way are who they say they are.

My life has been enriched beyond description because of the people that live in my computer. I'll never forget the day many years ago when I found myself chatting with a student in Bangladesh - the world suddenly became very small. I've learned so much in this way and it has opened my eyes to new ideas and causes me to look at old ones in a new way. It has made me see that there are an awful lot of kind and caring people out there with good hearts and it inspires me to become more like them.

In my idyllic world, I have this crazy idea that if people bothered to get to know people from other places, whether it be in your own country or around the globe, we would realize that although we live in our own delineated spaces, we are all inhabitants of Planet Earth and this alone ties us together. The internet makes this so much more possible.









World peace via the internet . . . it's got to start somewhere!

Variegation on a Theme

I've always had a weakness for variegated foliage, and in the last couple of years, I've managed to accumulate quite a collection of speckled, spotted, striped, and mottled. When I went outside to take pictures of some of my variegated plants, I was shocked at just how many were out there.




Some Calla lilies have variegated leaves, such as my 'Red Galaxy.'











Caladiums are some of the most beautiful variegated plants out there. Their dramatic large leaves come in all kinds of combinations of red, pink, white and green.









Japanese Painted Fern (Athyrium niponicum var. pictum) has a frosty look to it.




Variegated leaves have a combination of plant tissue with chlorophyll and tissue without it. All variegated foliage is genetically unstable to some degree and sometimes the all-green tissue is more vigorous. If your variegated plant starts reverting and putting out new growth in solid green, just prune it out to encourage the variegated foliage to continue.

Many cultivars of Lungwort (Pulmonaria 'Trevi Fountain') have fuzzy spotted leaves and some varieties have a solid lighter green leaf with a darker green margin (such as 'Majeste').

Many heucheras exhibit some degree of variegation, but none more than 'Snow Angel.' As is often the case with variegated plants, this one is a smaller plant in general than other heucheras.


That being said, I've got a variegated hydrangea (Hydrangea macrophylla 'Variegata')and it seems to be a pretty vigorous grower.




The variegated Flowering Maple or Parlor Maple (Abutilon pictum 'Thompsonii') has a special kind of variegation caused by a virus.

Yes, that's right. It's a sick plant, but it lives quite well with its chronic illness. The mosaic virus that causes the variegation in the abutilon's leaves doesn't affect its growth or performance, but the virus can be transmitted to other non-variegated abutilons via insects such as white fly.


Sometimes the variegation isn't intentional. The leaf miners create a swirly pattern on the Columbine leaves and I don't mind it unless it gets out of hand. If you don't like the leaf miners' art work, just snip out the damaged leaves. This gets rid of the larvae that are inside the leaf munching their way through. If you know a plant is susceptible to leaf miners, like Columbine, you can spray Neem oil on the young foliage in the spring, before the miners begin damaging the leaves.

There are seven types of variegation, and Mike Hardman discusses them here, if you're interested.

A Woman of the Limberlost

Romie and I spent the weekend in Kendallville, Indiana, attending the annual Midwest GeoBash get-together of geocachers. It was great seeing old caching friends and meeting some that we'd previously only known online. We did some caching of course, and logged our 500th cache find (over three years) by the time the 'Bash was over.

As we were traveling up State Road 3 and I was looking at the map, I realized we were going to be very close to the Gene Stratton-Porter State Historical Site. There were two caches to be found there, but I was most excited about seeing Gene's gardens and possibly getting to see fellow garden blogger earth_girl again. She is overseeing the restoration of the gardens there and I met her back in February when Mom and I attended the Home & Garden Show in Ft. Wayne.

Saturday morning, I called the site and asked for Martha. She just happened to be there, which she told me she "never is," so our meeting was meant to be! A little while later, we were hugging each other in greeting, and taking a leisurely stroll through the gardens.

Living where I do, Gene Stratton Porter (1863-1924) is familiar to me, but in case you've never heard of her, she was a naturalist and recorded her observations in her writings and photographs. She was the author of twelve novels, seven nature books, two books of poetry, several children's books and numerous magazine articles. Copies of her books have been sold more than any other American author's works. Eight of her novels were made into movies.

Gene's home near Rome City encompasses 125 acres, ten of which were originally owned by Gene and her husband. The property overlooks Sylvan Lake and is heavily wooded, with trails for exploring. The gardens are a beautiful sunny island in the middle of the Wildflower Woods, and showcases many of the natural treasures that Gene strove to preserve.




We walked through the long arbor, covered with kiwi vine and wisteria and in the shade of that arbor, you could look in any direction and see the various beds of native and 'tame' plants, many original to Gene's gardens. Below our feet was the original flagstone walkway paved with stones chosen by Gene herself.

At the entrance to the arbor, there is a stone in the shape of the state of Indiana. Martha shared details of the past work and future plans for restoration of the gardens.

We walked past the small garden pond which had oodles of green frogs sunning themselves among the lily pads, through the woods, down to Sylvan Lake.

We saw a beautiful view of the lake and Forget-Me-Nots were in bloom on one side of the path and Spotted Jewel Weed (orange) and Pale Jewel Weed (yellow) were blooming on the other.












Martha had a surprise for me. There was a tree that I'd noticed earlier, as it had unusual veining in the leaves and I commented on it. Martha told me it was a *somethingicantremembernow* and that it was one of the things they knew Gene had planted herself. Martha walked me over to the Garden Shed and showed me various pots filled with small plants that had been gleaned from the gardens. There were some saplings of *that tree* and she offered one to me. I chose the largest one, of course, since I'm not getting any younger and any tree I plant now needs as much of a head start as it can get.

I appreciated this gift more than Martha may know, although she's a gardener, so she might know after all. I love being able to go through my garden and see those special plantings that were gifts from friends or came from unique places. This tree would be both. In return, I will be putting together packets of seeds from my own garden plants to share with Martha for the gardens there.


Romie went golfing during the time I visited the gardens, and I knew he would love them, so we plan to return at a later date so he can see the beauty of this place. I wouldn't put it past him to ask if the cabin is for sale. He's always dreamed of living in a cabin in the woods by a lake and this would fit the bill quite nicely.

Gene and her daughter Jeannette are both buried here.

Red Spotted Purple butterfly (Limenitis arthemis)






Tiger Lilies

Works by Gene Stratton-Porter

• The Song of the Cardinal, 1903
• Freckles, 1904
• At the Foot of the Rainbow, 1907
• A Girl of the Limberlost, 1909
• The Harvester, 1911
• Laddie, 1913
• Michael O’Halloran, 1915
• A Daughter of the Land, 1918
• The Keeper of the Bees, 1921
• Her Father’s Daughter, 1921
• The White Flag, 1923
• The Magic Garden, 1927

Nature Books

• What I Have Done with Birds, 1907
• Birds of the Bible, 1909
• Music of the Wild, 1910
• Moths of the Limberlost, 1912
• Birds of the Limberlost, 1914
• Homing with the Birds, 1919
• Wings, 1923
• Tales You Won’t Believe, 1925

Poetry and Essays

• After the Flood, 1912
  
• Morning Face, 1916
• The Fire Bird, 1922
• Jesus of the Emerald, 1923
• Let Us Highly Resolve, 1927
  

Not listed on the Gene Stratton-Porter Historical Site website, is Strike at Shane's. According to Amazon:

A recently discovered work of Gene Stratton-Porter, this work was a prize winner in the American Humane Society's contest of 1893 and was published anonymously. It is the fictional story of the Shanes, a farm family of Indiana in the late 19th century.




Photo of Gene Stratton-Porter from NACS website

In addition to her blog, The Good Earth, Martha maintains a blog about the Gene Stratton-Porter gardens, called GSP Outdoors.

EDIT: I think the tree that Martha gave to me is a Cornelian Cherry Tree, which is in the Dogwood Family (Cornus sp.)

EDIT AGAIN: Martha has confirmed that the tree is indeed a Cornelian Cherry. So I'm not senile yet. Whew!

Fascination With Fasciation

Weirdness abounds in the garden. Just when you think you know your flowers, they throw something odd at you that leaves you scratching your head. Sometimes odd is good, like when something mutates and lo and behold you've got a new cultivar, and sometimes it's just ... well ... odd.

Two summers ago, I noticed one of the gaillardias had an elongated flower head. It wasn't symmetrically round like its siblings. I took a picture and posted it over at Dave's Garden and the smart gardeners over there told me what I had was a fasciated flower head.

That's right - this had a proper name. That must mean it happens fairly often, and after only three years of gardening, I found that it's true. I've had daisies do it, coneflowers do it, and the gaillardia does it a lot. This morning, I found that even fruits do it.

This canteloupe looks like conjoined melons and whether it's true fasciation or not, I don't know. The stem is extra-wide and flattened and both melons are connected at the hip. It will be interesting to see how this one develops and if we'll get something worth harvesting and eating.

Fasciation generally occurs as a result of random developmental disruption. It may also be caused by the same bacteria that causes leafy gall disease (Rhodococcus fascians), or by extreme changes in temperature, insects, or herbicides. It can even be caused by chance from damage that may occur while hoeing. And sometimes it's even a desirable characteristic that occurs naturally in some plants like the Japanese Fantail Willow (Salix sachalinensis 'Sekkar') which is prized by florists for use in flower arranging.

Now you know.

Need I Say More?

Actually, I do:

Thank you, God, for sending the rain we asked for,
and refreshing our gardens and our spirits.
AMEN!

M-m-m-m . . . Corn!

The lone tomato plant we've got - 'Mr. Stripey' - is finally large enough to need support. It's leaning, but not from the weight of tomatoes, because it's only got a couple of marble-sized ones right now. There are several blooms, but it's been really slow to get going.





The sweet corn, on the other hand, is ready early! Normally, we don't eat it fresh from our garden until the first week of August. But we did grow a different variety this year. 'Sugar Pearl' is a white corn that is an early, sugary enhanced hybrid and I picked ten ears of it tonight.

We had them for supper and I have to say that it could possibly be the best tasting sweet corn we've ever grown. Crispy, extremely sweet, and ears filled out nicely.

Butter was slathered and salt was sprinkled and I proceeded to eat four ears, while Romie had six. I ate in rows from one end of the ear to the other, while Romie ate his around and around. Don't you wonder how we develop such different eating habits?

We had several stalks of corn fail to set ears this year. It probably has something to do with the weather - hot and a severe lack of rain. But the stalks that did develop ears look like those ears are going to be nice and fat. Next year, I plan to do a little research on how to really raise good sweet corn, and we'll plant more of 'Sugar Pearl.'

While we will have to wait awhile before we have a ripe large tomato from our garden, the 'Sungold' cherry tomatoes have started maturing. I don't care for fresh tomatoes, so Romie will get those all to himself. I did try one of the Sungolds, just to see if it really was as sweet as everyone says. Yes, it's quite sweet, but it still tastes like a tomato.

We're enjoying green beans from the second planting as well as still getting some from the first, and we've been eating spinach from the second planting, too. The 'Chilly' chili peppers are loaded and the eggplant is in bloom. There are lots of melons, both canteloupe and watermelon, and I look forward to the day we pick the first of those.

I'm still somewhat amazed that we can grow these things for ourselves and they're actually edible. Better than edible - they're ambrosial.

Heavenly Hydrangeas

I failed to mention the hydrangeas yesterday when I posted what was in bloom. They've been at it for a few weeks now.

The very first hydrangea I ever had was a potted one that my mom gave me for Easter one year, which I later planted outside. It had beautiful blooms when she gave it to me, but it never bloomed in the years after that. It had gorgeous foliage, it just wouldn't bloom.

I happened to mention this to my mom and she asked me if I'd pruned it at all. Sure I had. And when did I do that? In the spring, because it looked kind of scraggy, so I thought I'd 'neaten it up.'

Well, we have met the enemy, and he is us.

The reason my hydrangea wouldn't bloom is because I was cutting the buds off! I didn't see any buds, but most hydrangeas bloom on old wood, and I was removing it. I learned that I need to prune right after it's done blooming. And what do you know - I had blooms the next year.

Two years ago, Mom had several hydrangeas that she was getting rid of in the fall, so I took them and we planted them inside the small gazebo we have. There's no floor in the gazebo, so we worked up the soil, added dead leaves for organic material and planted the hydrangeas.

They've done well and we've had some gorgeous blooms. Last year, Walmart had 'Lady In Red' hydrangeas for ten dollars, so I bought one and planted it near our fountain. It bloomed off and on all summer and this year it's nearly twice as big as it was last year. It's a lacecap and is just now starting to bloom.

Yesterday, we had to return some dead euonymus bushes to Meijer (they're one of those places that have a one year guarantee), and of course, we had to take a stroll through the garden department. They had thirty per cent off their shrubs, including hydrangeas. I spied nice specimens of both kinds of Endless Summer® hydrangeas ('Bailmer' and 'Blushing Bride') and we bought them. 'Bailmer' is blooming now and 'Blushing Bride' will probably bloom in the next week or so.

Endless Summer® Hydrangea (Hydrangea macrophylla 'Bailmer')

The plan is to surround the oak tree deck on the north and east side with different hydrangeas. The deck already has a mophead pink and a variegated, which are both blooming now. We still need two on the north side, then that area will be done.

I'd like to get a climbing hydrangea for the pergola to replace the old wisteria we planted about five or six years ago. It's never done well at all and we've yet to see it bloom. I had seen a climbing hydrangea earlier in the season at Menard's, but didn't buy it. And when I ordered one from one of my favorite online nurseries, Big Dipper Farms, it wasn't included in the shipment because it was out of stock by the time they filled the order. So it will go on my want list for next year.


Hydrangeas are interesting in that you can manipulate the color of the blooms. Alkaline soil will make it bloom blue, acidic soil and it will be pink. Adding aluminum sulfate to the soil will provide the alkalinity for blue blooms, but there's an easier way! Stick pieces of rebar down into the soil around the base of the plant and it will bloom blue. Pennies have been known to work, too.

We've got acidic soil here, so mine have always bloomed pink once they're established. I think I'll try the rebar trick and see what happens!

Blooms in July

Boy, that Garden Bloggers Bloom Day thing really sneaks up on you when you aren't looking. It's supposed to be on the 15th of every month and here it is the 16th and I'm a day late and a dollar short. No big surprise there.

I've got these blooming now:

Hybrid Gladiolus (Gladiolus x hortulanus 'Atom')

These are just gorgeous. They're a rich red and more dainty than the regular glads.


English Daisy (Bellis perennis 'Red Pomponette')
I grew these from seed this year. They are supposed to be a perennial, but when I bought some plants two summers ago, they didn't return after the following winter. I don't think I'll bother to plant more if these don't make it through this winter.

Hybrid Tea Rose (Rosa 'Kordes Perfecta')
I got this rose this spring at Walmart - the only time I've ever purchased a rose there. It's been slow to start growing, but seems to be doing fine now. This was introduced in 1957, the year I was born, and was the first of its kind in its color class.

Zinnia (Zinnia 'Peppermint Stick')

Nemesia
While I love the form and color of these annuals, I'll not buy them again, because they haven't done well in the container where I planted them, even though I've been faithful about watering. They have slowly declined, getting crispier by the day. I've had the same problem with my trailing verbena.


Shirley Poppy (Papaver rhoeas)
I'm so happy to be able to grow these! Poppies generally don't like me. But these are of the annual sort and I wintersowed them. They are all different shades, mostly reds, pinks and white. They're smaller than the oriental poppies, but have the characteristic crepe paper flower petals.

Blanket Flower (Gaillardia 'Tokajer')

The traditional blanket flower is blooming now, too, and will continue right into fall. It's a very tough plant that seems to survive whatever is thrown at it.


Parlor Maple (Abutilon)
This is one of three abutilons I have and all three will winter over in the house, as they're not hardy to our zone (5).


Bee Balm (Monarda 'Jacob Cline')

Orienpet Lily (Lilium 'Robert Swanson')
The fragrance emanating from this lily is wonderful and very strong. Orienpet lilies are a cross of an oriental lily with a trumpet lily. They generally bloom after the asiatic lilies and before the oriental lilies.


Scarlet Runner Bean (Phaseolus coccineus)
I grew these last year, too, but they didn't do as well as these are doing this year. I've got them in a different location than last year. And you can eat the beans that form on the vines, too! (But I haven't yet.)


Zinnia (Zinnia elegans 'Zowie! Yellow Flame')
It's a keeper!
This was introduced last year and I have yet to find the seeds in any nursery. It was a 2006 All-America Selections (AAS) Winner. Of the 15 seeds in the packet I got from Burpee, all fifteen germinated.


Yarrow (Achillea millefolia - 'Walter Funke' in the foreground)
This gets lovelier each year and looks best when planted en masse.

Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa)
Last year, we had Monarch butterfly caterpillars on this. I bought a yellow cultivar ('Hello Yellow') about a month ago, but it hasn't bloomed yet.

Calendula
These were grown from seed saved from last year's calendula. If you've never seen calendula seeds, I think they look like little dried up worms.


Parlor Maple (Abutilon pictum 'Thompsonii')
This one has yellow and green variegated leaves.


Sunflower (Helianthus anuus 'Van Gogh Mix')


Gloriosa Daisies (Rudbeckia hirta 'Irish Eyes')
I'm not sure what kind the white daisies are, but they're very pretty when they're all in bloom at once. They're also somewhat invasive. 'Irish Eyes' is behaving so far, but it's so pretty, it could invade just a little bit and I wouldn't care.

Threadleaf Coreopsis (Coreopsis verticillata 'Moonbeam')
Mom gave me this a couple of years ago and just like last year, it has a couple of pink blooms in the middle of all the yellow ones.

Spotted Bee Balm (Monarda punctata 'Fantasy') Now this is really cool. It keeps right on blooming out the top. Right now, each flower has four sections (you can see the second section starting to form at the top of this one). I wonder how many it will stack up at one time!

Alpine Forget-Me-Not (Myosotis alpestris)


Dwarf Morning Glory (Convolvulus tricolor 'Ensign Blue')
This is what The Gold Bug loves so much, as evidenced by the holes in the leaves.


Larkspur (Delphinium)
I wintersowed this one. The plant itself looks pretty pathetic. It's very small, and the threadlike foliage is dry and crispy about halfway up the stem. I'm kind of amazed it has it in itself to bloom given its condition.


Trailing Verbena
This will probably be my last verbena. I had some last year that I planted in the ground and this purple one I have this year is in a hanging pot. They tend to dry up and not quite die for me, regardless of how much I water them.


Blazing Star or Gayfeather (Liatris spicata 'Kobold')
The hummingbird moth loves this one!


Miniature Hosta (Hosta 'Baby Bunting')
I have several miniatures and this one is a strong, healthy plant. I've had no problems with slugs eating this one.

Bellflower (Campanula)
This is a tiny one! The flowers measure half an inch across.


Heliotrope (Heliotropium arborescens 'Marine')
This overwintered last year under lights in my basement and did very well, although it didn't bloom. This summer, it has bloomed non-stop so far. It's got a mild fragrance - nothing exciting.

Pansy (Viola 'Park's Whopper')

These were both grown from seed.

Candytuft ( Iberis crenata)

This is the annual candytuft. I've also got the perennial one which is all white and it's been done blooming for a month.

Petunia (Petunia x hybrida 'Aladdin Nautical Mix')
I grew these from seed and this is the first and only bloom so far, which just opened late last week.


Calla Lily (Zantedeschia 'Galaxy')


Rose of Sharon (Hibiscus syriacus 'Aphrodite')
This is grown as a standard in my shade garden.


Dahlia 'Who Dun It'
Not quite the color that Dutch Gardens shows (and I'm not convinced that's what this really is), but it really is striking in the garden, and purely by chance, I've got it planted next to its colormate . . .

Clematis 'Avant-Garde™'
This clematis is very different from others I've got or have had in the past. It's got a small bloom (maybe 2" or so in diameter) and doesn't start blooming until mid-summer. It's supposed to bloom right through fall, but this is its first year in my garden, so we'll see.

WHEW! For all the whining I've been doing about having no rain, we've still got a lot going on in the garden, as you can see. And in addition to these, there are the daylilies, coneflowers, more roses and a few annuals. (Separate post on coneflowers coming soon!)

Every Little Bit Helps

As I was watering last night, I heard a sound to the north. It was vaguely familiar and at first I couldn't place it. Wind rustling the leaves in the trees? Well, there was that, too, but there was something else.

And then I smelled it. Was I imagining things? Could it really be? I held my breath and then I felt it. Just a little at first, and I wasn't exactly sure, but half a minute later, there was no doubt. It was raining. I kept watering, because it probably was going to be over in a few minutes anyway.

That few minutes turned into more and I finally turned off the hose and walked to the house, thoroughly drenched and utterly thrilled to be that way. This morning, when we got up and looked at the rain gauge, it registered a quarter of an inch. Not enough to let us skip our watering schedule, but enough to say it really had rained and it made all God's creatures very happy. Especially the green ones.

Bougainvillea 'Imperial Delight'

Bougainvillea 'Imperial Delight'

When Romie and I went to Florida in March, we bought a bougainvillea at Home Depot and brought it home on the plane. It had some blooms on it at the time, but it quickly dropped those once we got it home. In the spring, when it was good and warm outside, I planted it in the ground. About a month ago, it let me know that it was quite happy living in our gardens for the summer, and erupted in a profusion of bloom.

Bougainvillea is only hardy to zone 9, where it generally blooms year round, with a rest of five to six weeks between bloom periods. It likes to be fed regularly, but if it's overwatered, it may not bloom and may die due to root rot. No wonder it's doing so well here this summer - it loves hot, dry conditions!

It is grown as a house plant in northern climates, but will only flower sporadically, depending on its access to a bright southern exposure, as well as refraining from overwatering. It's not really a vine, but its growth pattern resembles one somewhat and it's lovely spilling over the sides of a large container or clambering up a trellis.

The flower itself is of little consequence, but the papery bracts are what make bougainvillea so attractive. It comes in hot colors such as coral, magenta, and purple, as well as white-to-pink that you see here in 'Imperial Delight.'

In early fall, before the prediction of first frost, I'll transplant it back into its pot and move it inside for the winter.

Join

A Great Day For a Garden Tour!

Kara and Adam drove down from Defiance this morning so that Kara and I could take in the Van Wert County Master Gardeners Garden Walk. Romie and Adam were spending the day on the golf course, while Kara and I headed for points south.

I was excited for Kara to take this tour because as a Master Gardener, my mom had a chance to see the gardens the day before and she raved about them. Kara is new to gardening, but she's got a very green thumb and she's been bitten by 'the bug,' so it was going to be fun to witness her excitement at seeing the different gardens.



First on the tour was the home of Michael and Debra Kitson. This was a cozy and charming garden and well manicured. It was clear that a great deal of effort had been made to keep things green and growing in this hot and dry summer.

The back of their house greeted us with a wisteria-covered pergola leading to the patio and deck.





One of the highlights for both Kara and me was the water garden up on the deck.


We also enjoyed seeing the morning glories vine over a length of jute twine from a metal stake to the wood fence. Beautiful blooms were open for us, as it was still early in the day.




Next, we parked at my parents' house and walked across the street to Kevin and Brenda Merkle's home, which is beautifully landscaped and has an in-ground pool at the back, overlooking the Willow Bend Golf Course.

I've always loved this house and enjoyed seeing the back of it up close and personal. It was a warm day today and the pool looked very inviting!



We walked back towards Washington Place subdivision, to the home of Barry and Judy Thatcher.



Elegance was the theme here, and there were container plantings in abundance.


It was amazing that the flowers and plants all looked so lush and healthy and they must spend a great deal of time watering, since container plantings dry out even faster than those in the ground.





The veranda and patio area was just gorgeous, with an outdoor room look to it. It reminded me of some of the room settings that Mom and I saw at the Cincinnati Flower Show. I sat for a bit, just to take it all in, and while the look was formal, the feeling was comfortable and casual.






A little further down the street took us to Bob and Kathy Schnipke's home, where Kara and I both were awed by the small pond and waterfall by the patio area.

There were several koi and goldfish swimming around and the water lilies were blooming. Two small frog fountains added to the charm.



Bob and Kathy's gardens were very neatly groomed as well.

Kara and I admired the beautiful roses and the bright blue lobelia.






We got back into the car and drove south of town to the farm home of Clint and Amy Mosier. The property is quite large and includes a large pond.

The possibilities here are endless and while Clint and Amy have done a lot of work already, with rockscaping and plantings, the sheer size of their gardens will keep them busy just maintaining what they've already done.








It has a prairie look to it, which compliments their home in the country.













After we left the Mosier's, Kara and I had a little cross-country adventure due to a missed turn. During this little 'detour,' I discovered that I have failed as a mother, neglecting to teach Kara my excellent map-reading skills.


We managed to find our way to the next stop on the tour, however, which was the home of John and Leslie Simon.

They have a gorgeous wooded lot where the house is situated and there are many beautiful flower beds surrounding it, including some with English Roses.








When we first got there, we passed some dianthus that was being enjoyed by a couple of Tiger Swallowtail butterflies.




The main garden is in full sun and is surrounded by a picket fence. The individual beds with perennials and herbs are framed by wooden borders and is quite colorful. Adjacent to this garden is a potting shed, of which I'm envious. Doesn't every gardener long for a potting shed? There is also a small greenhouse nearby.



The Simons have identified their plants with unique markers crafted of silver wire and pieces of colored glass. I didn't ask Leslie if she made them herself, but I suspect she may have.







After touring the Simons' gardens, we turned back north to the log home of Ed Freund. Ed built the home himself and the focus here was on trees. Many, many beautiful large pines and birches, as well as several other kinds of trees are seen here and Ed had each kind labeled for identification.


I've always had a fondness for paperbark birch and there was a grouping of these along with some river birch. I love the interesting bark on both of them.













Everything here was very well-kept, including the container plantings at the back door and on the deck.



















We had a nice chat with Ed and he brought me up to date on his sister Beth, who shares my birthday. Ed and Beth's parents are John and Marlene Freund, former owners of Freund's Nursery. Marlene and my mom shared a hospital room when Beth and I were born, however I think that's the only time I've ever met Beth and I don't really remember it.



Kara and I moved on to the next home, that of Gordon and Paula Stemen. The brick walkways were especially attractive for their white picket fenced garden. It was in the style of a knot garden, with a center area and four separate flower beds surrounding it, divided by brick walkways, which had thyme growing between and over the bricks in places. Thyme is just one of many plants that can withstand light foot traffic.


Some of the bricks had "OHIO" imprinted in them and I wondered to myself if they would notice if one of them went missing. I thought they probably would, so I left only with a cookie and a bottle of water, which was provided at this stop.



The blue ceramic pots caught my eye, as I'm partial to them myself. Beautiful combinations of annuals filled them and once again I marveled at the health of the plants.



One of the best bottle trees I've ever seen was here and again, the blue ones caught my attention. The placement of the tree added to its attractiveness, as it was set in among other large trees with ornamental grasses near its base.







The ninth and final home on the tour was that of George and Altha Brooks.

Altha's passion is daylilies, and there were over 70 named varieties in various gardens on their property. This is the daylily's time to shine and they do that very well here.





A yellow double (whose name escapes me now ) was my favorite and I saw a white one ('Ice Carnival') for the first time. White daylilies aren't common.












The patio area is constructed of flagstone and leads to a wood deck. On the patio is a water feature, also constructed of flagstone. There were many blue ceramic pots here as well, all beautifully planted.




It was a warm and windy day and by the time Kara and I finished the tour, we were tired, but we came away with many ideas that we could incorporate into our own gardens. That's the wonderful thing about garden tours like this and we're glad that people take the time and effort that participating in these things requires.

Thank you to all of the host gardeners and also the Master Gardener volunteers who worked to help the homeowners today. Bravo to you all - it was wonderful!

Say Uncle

I'm about to.

As I was watering the gardens today, I noticed a couple of struggling plants, which is understandable in these days of drought. The sage is a crispy gray pile of rubble. The larkspur has little threads of straw dangling from its stems. The monarda has an ugly case of powdery mildew. And the 'Gold Bullion' centaurea is a ghost of its former self.

It would be easy to just stop trying to get things through until there's a break in the weather (surely it's coming...) and say to all the flowers and vegetables and trees and shrubs, "You're on your own now. Live or die, we've done all we're going to do."

We'd have about three more hours in the day to do other things beside water. We'd learn what's really drought tolerant or not. But all of the care and love and tending we've done thus far would be lost on so many things.

We wanted this garden and we have invested dollars and days into making it what it is. We have worked hand in hand with God to create this haven for the butterflies and for ourselves. When I walk through the arbor of Max's Garden, I become a different person, because it's a different world there and I leave the other one behind, as if I've gone to Fantasy Island.

We won't stop watering because as gardeners it's our responsibility to do what we can to help our plants be all they can be. There are rewards for doing so, and we can't expect it to always be easy. Times like this happen now and then and we'd better learn to take the bad with the good.

Sounds a bit like parenting, doesn't it?

We'll hang in there because this too shall pass. But I sure wish it would hurry.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow Is the Rain

Our church, St. Paul United Methodist in Payne, has started some small groups as a way to get to know others in the church. I think it's a great idea, and you're sure to meet people you've never really met before and share your common interest.

One of those small groups is for gardeners. I went to the meeting tonight and while it's not very well attended yet, I'm hoping it will grow. You can learn so much from fellow gardeners, especially when they're dealing with the same things you are, which for us is heavy clay and this year, the severe lack of rain. Everyone grows some of the same things, as well as things that the rest of us may not be familiar with, but we're happy to learn about it all.

We'd been there about an hour when Al said, "It's raining."

Me: "You're kidding."

He wasn't. Though the sun was shining, on one side of the building it was raining. On the other side it wasn't. We immediately broke group and went out to stand in the rain, and while it was nice, we could tell it wasn't going to last - a mere pickle shower. Over in a few minutes, sadly. And we all talked about whether we'd get a drop of it at our respective homes.

As I left town and headed east for home, I was treated to a beautiful double rainbow. I hoped it would last until I could get to my camera, and while it wasn't nearly as complete as I saw while driving, I still was able to capture it as it appeared just beyond Max's Garden.


Did we get any of the precious rain at our house? Only enough to keep the dust down, unfortunately, so the daily watering will continue. We can't give up now. I'm beginning to think we won't ever get any rain until it comes in the form of snow.

Patio & Pergola

Just steps from my computer:

The deck was constructed by Romie and has a bench with storage, as well as a plant stand. The plant stand has a door on the left side so tools and things can be stored inside it as well. (That's Sunny cleaning himself on the top step.)

I'd like to put a potted plant in the tall plant stand Romie built on the left side of the deck, but the cats sleep there fairly often. I'd hate to take away one of their nap spots.

They also use this as a jumping-off spot when they're getting down from the top of the pergola. They all go up there and it provides a handy route to the roof of the family room, which happens to be just below our bedroom windows. More than once, we've been awakened in the night by one of the outside kitties meowing or picking at the screen, begging to be let in.

I did have a potted plant there earlier, but it got jumped on and slept in too many times. Plants tend to not like that.


Never mind the holes in the Brunnera (Brunnera macrophylla 'Jack Frost'), courtesy of the slugs (that I've never had before this year). The little Peek-a-Boo Pixie is by a local artist, George Carruth. His original studio is in Waterville, Ohio, and there you can purchase many of his beautiful creations as well as seconds at a greatly reduced price.

The butterfly house was made by my dad and has copper trim. That's pink Lily-of-the-valley (Convallaria majalis) in the upper right corner, which was saved from the construction workers when they put in the french doors. Those french doors used to be in my parents' house before they added on a sun room. There's also Japanese Painted Fern (Athyrium niponicum) and Crimson Fans (Mukdenia rossii) in this picture.


The pergola was built in 2001 by my dad and Romie. It has tiny white lights strung on each rafter that are connected to an automatic timer so they come on at dusk. The cement table and benches belonged to my grandmother before she moved to her condo. I have material and foam to make cushions for the benches, but haven't gotten around to doing it yet.


The trumpet vine has been here since the summer of 2002, if I remember correctly. It didn't really start covering the pergola well until 2005. Give it another couple of years and it will totally cover it. The view from the top looks like this:

Trumpet Vine (Campsis radicans 'Flava')

The fountain you see here also used to be my grandma's. She had it inside her condo, but didn't like the splashing of the water on her tile floor, so she asked if we wanted it. Uh, let me think about that for a minute...

The hypertufa planter on the lower left was made by Mom. In the middle, you can see a potted Norfolk Island Pine (Araucaria heterophylla) that is older than I can remember. It goes inside for the winter, as it's not hardy to our zone (5). The hanging pot contains Kangaroo Fern (Microsorum pustulatum) , which also overwinters inside.


This area looks vastly different than it did when we moved into this house in 1977. First of all, the room with the door didn't exist. In 1983, my dad and Romie constructed our family room, enclosing an exterior stairwell to the basement. Prior to this, the clematis you see is quite old and grew on a wrought-iron railing in the same location. We managed to protect it during the construction and it now vines over fishing line strung back and forth from fence poles left over from a chain link fence we used to have around the pool. Creative recycling!

The brick patio was laid by Romie several years ago. When we moved here, it was nothing but dirt. The original patio is now under the family room. We planted some things there in the late 1970s and put black and burgundy lava rock around everything. (Ewww!) We like this brick surface MUCH better. The brick border around the sidewalks was added last summer. We're still finding lava rock everywhere and I save it for putting in the bottoms of my potted plants. It's lightweight, porous and provides great drainage!

Clematis 'Jackmanii'

Our beloved black and white cat, Mimi, lived in the house with us from 1987-2003. When we had to have her put to sleep, it was Jenna who suggested we bury her under the catnip in the herb garden. While herbs no longer grow here due to the shade now provided by the trumpet vine, we remember Mimi...

At the northeast corner of the family room is a Japanese Maple tree (Acer palmatum 'Emperor II') given to us last year by my grandma.

One of two bonsais I have. This is a Chinese Elm (Ulmus parvifolia). The other one, which is kept in the house year 'round, is a small Jade plant (Crassula ovata).

If you continue on around the corner here...

... to the left you'll see the north side of the dining room and the back door to the garage.

Here there is cotoneaster that was already here when we purchased the house, but has been severely cut back and we keep it thin so that each summer I can plant caladiums under them. We like the brightness of the colored caladium leaves and it's a great place for them to grow since this is in continual shade.

Last summer, Mom shared some large hostas (probably 'Sum and Substance') that she was given, and those grow at the very back. They've not yet reached their full size for the summer. (Nothing really has, because of the drought.) There's also a plant stand where my orchids live for the summer, as well as a couple other potted house plants.


To the north of the patio is a large trellis that used to hold a porch swing. The swing had issues, so we removed it and put the trellis up. I don't know where we got the Japanese honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica) that grows there now, but it's a happy camper and so are we when it's dreamy scent wafts through the patio area.

Most of these photos were taken a few weeks ago, just after I'd watered everything. Things have since grown quite a bit and the caladiums have come up and are brightening the trellis area.

If you look closely at the Hardy hibiscus (Hibiscus syriacus 'Aphrodite') which is being grown as a standard, it's now blooming! It was too windy today for me to get a decent picture of a bloom, so here's a close-up of one from last year.

It's underplanted with several varieties of Heuchera.

And that little terra cotta pot you see in the picture of the patio? It now looks like this:

Caladium (Caladium bicolor 'Galaxy')

The pergola-covered patio leads to the pool area via the flagstone walkway we placed this spring and through the arbor, which is covered by Sweet Autumn Clematis (Clematis terniflora).


I hope you've enjoyed this little mini-tour of some of our gardens. I'll share more later!

Where's Waldo?

The things you'll see if you look closely...

Can't see it yet? Let's get an even closer look...

Amazing camouflage, eh?

Glamis Castle - An English Rose

Jackson & Perkins had a great deal on a group of David Austin™ English Roses earlier this year, so I succumbed to their beauty and bought some. They came before we really had a break in the weather and I could plant them in the ground, so I soaked them, then planted them in potting soil in large pots. They're all now planted in the gardens, of course, and blooming fairly nicely.

David Austin™ Roses are bred by crossing old garden roses with more modern roses to achieve the superb fragrance, delicacy and charm of the old-style blooms combined with the repeat flowering characteristics and wide color range of modern roses. Some English varieties are extra vigorous in warm areas as very large shrubs and some may want to become semi-climbers. Hardy in zones 5 through 10.¹

Now living in our gardens are Abraham Darby, Golden Celebration, Falstaff, Jubilee Celebration, Glamis Castle, Crown Princess Margareta. For the most part, they're all still small, thanks in part to our hot, dry summer. But Golden Celebration and Crown Princess Margareta both show signs of being possible climbers, judging from the long stems they've already produced. No open flowers yet on these two, but several buds are present.

The big surprise, for me anyway, has been Glamis Castle (pronounced Gläms). White roses have never had much appeal for me, but this one has won me over. It's a very small plant at this point, but it's been blooming its heart out. And the flowers are gorgeous. They remind me of camellias as they unfurl.

Sometimes they even look like butterflies...

Glamis Castle is the childhood home of The Queen Mother and the legendary setting of Shakespeare's play Macbeth.

The other English Roses have been blooming off and on and I'm rather proud of their performance, being new and young and all, and in spite of this horrid hot dry weather. I'm just happy they haven't died.

'Abraham Darby'


'Falstaff'


'Jubilee Celebration'

¹Heirloom Roses

The Bad & The Ugly

Okay, let's get this over with. Carol at May Dreams Gardens posted The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly about her gardens as a result of a challenge issued by Colleen at In The Garden Online. I'm one of the perfectionists that she talks about, but you'd never know it, looking at some of the areas of our yard.

I tell myself this will be cathartic. It will be motivating to actually do something about these problem areas. It will be humbling. So I'm not perfect. I actually am very well aware of this and am becoming more comfortable with my imperfect self every day.

So here goes...

What's wrong with this picture? Let me tell you. The hose is in its usual position these days - it seems it never gets properly put away. The shrubs need trimming. The daisies are drooping and are hacked off because they were done blooming and I didn't want to take the time to cut them in an attractive manner. I don't even care if there were small new flower buds. I couldn't care less at this point if they bloom again. And if you look closely, there's still remnants of what I cut off laying in the grass. The grass actually has a hint of green here, due to previous watering of the daisies.

Behind the daisies are sickly cosmos seedlings that never stood a chance. In the spring, it seemed like a good idea to plant the seeds there, but I didn't stop to think that the daisies would get too tall too fast and would shade the cosmos before it could get taller than the daisies. Timing is everything.

Oh, and that satellite dish? We haven't had DirecTV for over two years now.

This lovely little area needs more help than I have energy to give it right now. It was planted last year with the Ostrich Fern that you see there now. There was beautiful 'McKana Giants' columbine in front of that, along with Chameleon Plant all the way to the front. In the spring, 'Avalon' daffodils filled the front half. Everything was timed just perfectly this time.

This year, the Ostrich Fern is half its normal height, due to the drought I'm sure. The columbine never showed its lovely face again. A fraction of the Chameleon Plants returned. The daffodils were just 'okay'. I had some caladium bulbs left over from the other areas where I'd planted them, so I put them in the ground in front of the Ostrich Fern. And they don't like it much here either.

In the two pots on the bench, there's one dead something and another struggling something else. I need to just empty them and get them out of there.

I had such visions of this being a sweet, lovely little niche in between the arborvitaes (which I also hate), but as you can see, that just didn't materialize.


Now here we have leftover wintersown containers yet to be planted. Well, half of them need to be planted. Two of them are growing weeds. The other black tray holds sedum that I ripped out of Max's Garden, intending to use it in my turtle topiary form, which is sitting on the patio naked.

The brugmansias in the pots were meant to be taken out of their pots and planted in the ground somewhere for the summer, but I never got to it, save for one. Usually they look very wilted because they dry out quickly and I forget about watering them as much as they'd like. A couple of them have spider mites and one is being eaten by who-knows-what. I started them inside over the winter and they looked so wonderful under lights in my basement. Out here, they're at the mercy of the scorching heat and the bugs and my forgetfulness.

The clematis ('Niobe') that you see to the left is not in the best location. This is its third summer here and while this was the best yet for growth and bloom, it should be way bigger than it is, but it's in mostly shade all day. No, I don't have plans to move it either.


I saved the 'best' for last. This is the area behind our pool house. I hate it. HATE IT. Romie says no one else sees it. Yes, they do. You have to pass this area on the way to Max's Garden and the fire pit. And besides, I don't like how it looks either. The barrels really have nowhere else to go - one has rainwater, one has kindling wood, and two have mulch. But the pool filter could be enclosed. The wheelbarrow usually is in the building, but I've been using it.

Just out of the frame, to the right, is a cement circle around a crabapple tree. This tree puts up suckers and it loses yellow leaves much of the summer, so it always has an unkempt look to it. We used Sucker Stopper last summer, but we couldn't keep up with all the suckers and we just gave up.

The back of the building is green. That's the color it used to be before we re-sided our house with vinyl siding. At that time, we repainted the pool house gray to match the house. But we ran out of wood stain and never got around to finishing it. I'm not even going to say how long ago that was.

So there you have it. The Bad and The Ugly. For The Good, you can see that in the rest of the blog posts. Please forgive me for pushing the time back on the posting of this entry. I didn't want this one to be the first thing people saw when they came to my site. It would have been Just. Too. Much.

Home Is Where Your Mom Is

Several years ago, the girls gave me a beautiful plaque of sorts for Mother's Day. It hangs in our kitchen and it says, "home is where your mom is." For them, this will always be home. It's where they grew up and is the only house they ever knew before they left home for college and eventually jobs and marriage.

Northwest Ohio is certainly not where you'll find the most beautiful landscape in the world. It's table top flat. Much of its natural vegetation has been cleared for farming, so as you look out across the countryside, you will likely see fields of corn, wheat, oats, clover, alfalfa, or soybeans. From the air, you'd see that this area is laid out in patchwork mile squares, as a result of the Northwest Ordinance of 1787. There are clusters of small woods dotted here and there and creeks and rivers running through. Mostly creeks.

There's no drama here. No mountains, no elk or bear, no majestic waterfalls. Just the slow, steady, easy life in a quiet place that most proclaim as a "good place to raise a family." It's not the Bible Belt, but still, you'll find strong Christian values played out regularly, whether it's an ice cream social at a small country church or community members joining together to help out a neighbor that needs it.


One night last week, as the sun was setting over the corn field to our west, I was struck by the fact that this place where we live has its own beauty. It happens to me every year about this time. I see the golden wheat fields blowing in the breeze against a blue, blue sky and hear the killdeer calling out and the scene is so serene, it calms me. I can smell the ripening wheat, too, and it smells good.

Life here is pretty predictable, which might be thought of as boring for some, but there's also a comfort in it. You can measure the passing of time by events like the wheat harvest, the Perseid Meteor Shower, Indian Summer, the migration of the Canadian Geese and the return of the lightning bugs and cicadas. Some of these things aren't unique to here, but I think they are given more significance than just a passing observance. That's what the quiet life will do for you.

We built a fire in our firepit that night, as we do on a regular basis on summer and fall evenings, and we sat under the stars between the cucumber vines in our garden to our west and the corn field to our east. Our neighbors Tom and Helen walked over and joined us, as they many times do and as we stared into the mesmerizing flames, we talked of many things. Our children, our jobs, our dreams. We look up and we never stop being awed by the night sky with its twinkling stars and planets. This night we saw Jupiter in the southeast and Venus in the west, shining the brightest of all.


Sometimes we roast hot dogs or marshmallows on homemade skewers, and sometimes we just sit and enjoy the company of each other. The fire keeps the mosquitoes at bay, but our voices attract the attention of our cats. One by one, they creep into the circle and eavesdrop on our conversation. Jack and Max look for a friendly lap to lay in and there's always one of those available. Tom likes our cats and knows each of them by name.

After a couple of hours, someone says, "Well, this was great. I'm going to head in. See you later." We stir the dying embers to make sure they're nearly out, gather up our things and head to the house. We smell faintly of wood smoke, but we don't mind. When we wake in the morning, it will remind us of the lovely time we had the night before.

There's nothing wrong with having a desire to live in other places. To be sure, it would be awesome to look out your back door at mountains, or to not have to worry about shoveling snow before you went anywhere. But this is an okay place to be, too. Our ancestors settled here, and our families both are still here, which is probably a big reason why we're still here, too.

Because after all, home is where your mom is, and this feels like home.

Where Did THAT Come From?

I hate when this happens. I bought a packet of zinnia seeds at Walmart earlier this spring and I made sure there were not going to be any pink ones in the mix. I hate pink zinnias. Well, maybe hate is too strong a word, but honestly, pink is just not my favorite color for certain flowers.

I like pink lilies, pink echinacea, and pink roses (as long as they aren't hot pink). But I don't like pink petunias or pink zinnias. That's not to say that I don't have pink flowers growing in my gardens, because I have plenty of them, but I would not have purposely planted pink zinnias.

Remind me not to save the seedheads from this one:


On second thought, that is kind of pretty, in its own pinky way. Maybe if I planted them with some of that white cosmos with a pink picotee edge...

The Gold Bug

Golden Tortoise Beetle
Charidotella sexpunctata bicolor

Just after I finished building the cairn yesterday, I wanted to do some watering of some things that were looking a little wilted. As I stood there with the hose, the water happened to flip over a leaf of something I planted from seed but forgot to label (that means I have no idea what it is yet because it hasn't bloomed). There, glinting in the sun, attached to the underneath side of a leaf, was a piece of gold.

What?

This required closer inspection, so I turned off the water and crouched down. Wow! A gold bug! This immediately made me think of Edgar Allan Poe's story, "The Gold Bug." I'm sure I've read the story, because I used to like Poe when I was in high school, but I can't remember what the story was about.

I happened to have the camera out there, because I'd just taken a picture of the newly constructed cairn, so I grabbed it from the tree branch where I'd hung it, and got in for a tight shot. I was able to get three close-ups before it flew off.

When I brought the photos up on the screen, I immediately noticed the outer shell on The Gold Bug was clear! It didn't take much googling before I was able to identify it as a Golden Tortoise Beetle. It's a bit smaller than a ladybug, and it shines like a piece of fine gold jewelry. Except when it doesn't.

The gold color is caused by light reflecting on a thin layer of moisture between the outer shell, which resembles a tortoise's (hence the name), and its body. It has the ability to voluntarily compress this liquid, thereby changing its color to a muddy, spotty reddish color. It does this when it's stressed and it's also the color it becomes when it dies.

It feeds exclusively on the leaves of plants in the Convolvulaceae family, which includes sweet potatoes, bindweed, morning glories and convolvulus. Hmmmm ... maybe it was the convolvulus seeds that I planted there ...

Join

"Cuiridh Mi Clach Air Do Chàrn"

In Max's Garden, there is a large rock that got moved today. It was one of the first hardscape items to be put in place when we first created this garden in October of 2005.

October 7, 2005

At that time, we had very little of anything with which to fill the new space, but we had found a large rock back by the creek and I wanted it in the garden. We eventually planted a few grasses directly behind it, some irises to one side, some Festuca ('Elijah Blue') at the left front corner and a little bit of sedum in a small hypertufa pot that my mom had made. The pot laid on its side so the sedum could spill out in front of it. That was the beginning and I liked it.

Today, the grasses have grown quite a bit, to put it mildly, but then that's what grasses do. I've had to tear out some of the Ribbon grass (Phalaris arundinacea), because it migrated a bit into the walking path. The Northern Sea Oats (Chasmanthium latifolium) are looking wonderful and that may just be my favorite ornamental grass of all. There is Maiden grass (Miscanthus sinensis 'Gracillimus') too, and another one that I can't remember.

The sedum - OH, THE SEDUM! - anybody want some sedum? I'll plop it in an envelope and send you some. We'll never miss it. About once a month, I have to literally grab a handful or two and tear it out. I'm careful about how I dispose of it, too, because if it gets anywhere near dirt, stone, wood, anything except for fire, it's off and running again. But I like it a lot, so I'll continue to discipline it.


All of this growth means that the large rock we initially placed there isn't looking so large anymore. In fact, it's shrunk so much as to be barely noticeable. So for a couple of weeks now, I've been trying to figure out how to get one of the really large rocks that we've seen back by the creek up to the garden.

Then it dawned on me. We don't need a really big rock. We'll build a cairn! I announced this to Romie this afternoon and he said, "I have a sister named Karen." He can be so funny sometimes. Yes, he does have a sister named Karen, but he also knows what a cairn is. He watches PBS a lot.

A cairn is a stack of stones or rocks used to mark a spot for various reasons. People have been building them for hundreds of years, and it is believed they have their origin in Scotland. They can be placed as a means of marking a direction along a trail, to signify a memorial for someone who has died, or to mark the summit of a mountain, just to name a few purposes for them. Ours would be built just because I think they're neat.

So, I proceeded to roll the original stone away, meaning to place it somewhere else in the garden until I rolled it right over my foot. I was wearing my Crocs sandals. Time to take a break...

A couple of hours later, after answering some e-mails and having a dip in the pool (it was sunny and 89°), it was back to cairn-building. We had brought some larger rocks up from a previous walk by the creek and many of them were flat-sided. The farmer who works the adjacent field had piled many of them back there after collecting them from the field. You could see where some of them had been chipped by a disc and I'm sure that he's lost more than one disc from his plow, courtesy of those rocks. I'd asked him a couple of months ago if we could have them and he said for us to take all we wanted.

It didn't really take long to make the cairn. Once I got the base rocks where I wanted them, stacking the others was easy. For the top, I wanted something shaped a little out of the ordinary, and I'm still looking for just the right rock, but for now, here's our new little cairn:

I'm sure the cats will have to see how things look from the top. Hey...with all the cats we have around here, maybe we'll just have a live 'topper' on that cairn!


Cuiridh mi clach air do chàrn is a Scottish Gaelic blessing, which literally means "I'll put a stone on your cairn." The meaning though, is "I'll not forget you." The tradition is to take a stone and place it on another's cairn as a memento of your visit.

If you ever visit our garden, please bring a small stone with you, and you can place it on our cairn.

My Beets Are In A Pickle

Pickled beets have always been one of my favorite things. My mom used to buy the little canned round ones, pour them and their juice into a container, add vinegar and sugar, toss in a few hard-boiled eggs and let them sit in the refrigerator for a few days. Then we'd have us a beet and egg fest.

I would have been perfectly content to eat those pickled canned beets the rest of my life and then Mom went and grew some in her garden and pickled those. Yum-meeeee! They were so good that I was sure there was never any way that I could be talented enough to grow my own and pickle them like she did. After all, my mom is a gourmet cook. Really. She makes Beef Wellington and stuff like that.

But last year, I thought I'd give it a try. I bought some seeds at Kitchen Garden Seeds - 'Bull's Blood' - and planted them in the neighbor's garden plot. That's right, the neighbor's. You see, I didn't plan things very well last year and I ran out of room in our own garden, so I walked over to Tom's house and made him an offer.

"Hey, Tom. If we work up your garden and leave room enough for your tomato plants (that was all he usually planted), could we plant some things there? We could share the harvest, too." Tom enthusiastically said, "Go for it. That garden will never look so good."

I think Tom had visions of a meticulously tended plot of lush, leafy green vegetables, but I'm sorry to say that it was just too easy to forget about them over there and the weeds soon took over. We weren't able to do any watering either, nor had the soil been amended so it was pretty much hard clay. Still, we managed to have a small beet crop, as well as some melons and cherry tomatoes.

Mom, your pickled beet secret is out. While I still think you're the best cook I know, I also now know that raising and pickling beets is one of the easiest gardening exercises there is. Actually, I think you told me that, when I asked you if it was difficult, but they tasted so good I didn't believe you.

I think I got about five quarts of pickled beets from last year's crop. Romie and I both love them, so they didn't last too long. This year, we planted them in our own garden and we'll have another yummy beet session soon.


When I planted them, I tried to space the seeds so that I wouldn't need to thin them. I didn't thin them last year, which is why the majority of them didn't grow to be all that large. It's just so hard for me to pull out a perfectly live plant and discard it, even for the good of the ones that are left. Even with spacing the seeds, I need to do the same this year, and I'm having the same darn problem. It just goes against everything I have, to thin anything. But I eventually learned to pinch back the chrysanthemums, so someday I'll master the art of thinning, too.

I pulled a couple of beets a few days ago and several more yesterday. Today I'm going to pickle these, because my mouth is already watering, just thinking about how good they're going to taste.

Daylily Days

Until last year, I was never a big fan of daylilies (no pun intended!). Then I went to Ft. Wayne, Indiana, to visit the daylily gardens of one of my patients from work, who just happens to be a hybridizer, too. Barb (Wolff) has 28 registered daylilies to her name and her enthusiasm for them could convert anyone into a 'hemhead.'

I strolled through her gardens with a wagon, shovel, plastic bags, and labels and by the time I was finished, there were five or six daylilies in the wagon. This, from someone who was just going there 'to look.' HA! I saw so many wonderful daylilies and enjoyed learning about them from Barb that I really had to restrain myself from buying more. And they were all the same price, regardless of cultivar - five dollars each!

Barb just loves what she does, and it shows. She wants you to share in her love of daylilies, so that's why she sells them for such a great price. I haven't been to her gardens yet this year, but I'm sure they're in full, glorious bloom about now.

I visited another daylily hybridizer last summer - Lana Wolfe, also from Ft. Wayne. Lana has two registered daylilies, and I learned a lot from her, too. I took home a couple more that day. My mom had given me a couple when we dug Max's Garden in the fall of 2005, and I bought a few at the end of the season last year from a couple of the Big Box Stores, so I now have a nice little collection of them.

And how can you not like them? Especially in a drought summer like we're having here this year. This hot, dry weather hasn't fazed a single daylily in my garden. They're blooming their heads off, one after another, with seemingly no effort whatsoever.

See?

This is the first daylily I can remember, besides the usual ditch lilies. It was here when we purchased our house, and has increased exponentially since that time until we now have about twenty feet of them lining the north side of the pool. Not all of them are double, like this one, but they do have the same markings and bloom pretty much all at the same time.

'Leprechaun Eyes'


'Ruffles and Lace'
This one is very large.


'Czar's Treasure'
Mom gave this one to me in 2005 when we first dug the area now known as "Max's Garden." I love its golden ruffly edge.


'Razzmatazz'


'South Seas'
This is a gorgeous shade and one of my favorites.


Unregistered #726 - B. Wolff
Barb has registered several since I bought this one,
so it very well may be a named cultivar now.
Oh, and this one's fragrant! It smells faintly of Lily-of-the-Valley.


Unregistered #734 - B. Wolff
May be registered now, as well.


'Lady Fingers'
This picture is actually from last year, because I forgot to get a picture of its bloom earlier in the week and it will be a few days before the next bloom opens. It's a spider daylily.
Look how green the grass was at this time last year!


'Red Volunteer'


'Etched Eyes'


Unregistered - Lana Wolfe


No ID
This is not what it was supposed to be ('Siloam Shocker') - not even close.


'Pardon Me'
This one has a size and form much like 'Stella d'Oro'.


'Stella d'Oro'
I was given this one by the UPS guy. He'd noticed my gardens and he happened to be the owner of a tree farm and nursery. He asked if I had a Stella in my garden and I said I didn't. He went to his truck and pulled out a pot with this in it and gave it to me. He said everyone should have Stella in their garden. I agree.


This is another one that I have no idea what it is and I'm not sure where it came from, but we have several large clumps of them out in Max's Garden and they are blooming machines. I think we may have transplanted them from the front corners of our property, which means they were here when we moved here.

This morning, the sun was shining through the back of one of these and illuminated it beautifully:



There are a few others yet to bloom, and a few of these will bloom again later.

Seven Random Things

Carol, over at May Dreams Gardens, has tagged anyone who reads her blog for posting Seven Random Things about themselves. Okay, I'll bite. Not that anyone is really interested in obscure facts about the female half of Our Little Acre, but here goes!

1. I have no middle name, just an initial, which doesn't stand for anything. My mom has one sister, and my dad is one of ten children. ALL of them are called by their middle name. Guess my parents took care of that little family tradition, eh?
   
   
2. I eat lima beans in a very strange way. I don't think I'm a particularly strange person, but after I tell you how I eat them, you're likely to think that I should reconsider my opinion of myself.
   
   First, I will only eat them if they're not overcooked and they must be slathered in butter, with lots of salt and a touch of pepper. Then, I put one in my mouth, bite the top end of the bean where it was connected to the plant and hold it in my front teeth and extract the bean from the casing. (Don't ask me exactly how I do this, because I doubt I could tell you.) I eat the bean, which I don't particularly care for, and then the casing, which I love. It's a texture thing.
   
   Someone once asked me how I came to eat beans this way and the best I can come up with is that I once ate a casing that had naturally come off during cooking and it appealed to me. And that's just one of my quirky eating habits...
   
   
3. I have AB+ blood. In the United States, only 3% of the population have this blood type. My parents both have it, too. Unfortunately, due to my ever-present anemia, they won't let me give blood. My dad gives it, as does my husband (O+).
   
   
4. I got married at 17. No, I didn't have to, I wanted to. And it was done with my parents' blessing, in fact, they had to sign their permission for me to legally do it. I have a late birthday (September) as far as the school year is concerned, so I started Kindergarten at age four, but turned five shortly thereafter. Then in first grade at semester break, I was accelerated into the second grade for the rest of the school year. The next year, I started third grade. This meant that I graduated from high school at age 16.
   
   I had finished my freshman year of college when I married Romie the following August 1st. It wasn't all that uncommon in the mid-1970s for people to get married shortly after high school graduation. And lest you think I was/am a brainiac or anything, let me assure you that I can be quite dumb as a box of rocks when it comes to some things. Everyone has their areas of expertise, don't they? ;-)
   
   
5. I've met President Clinton. Now that was truly a random event. Romie and I were on our way to Hot Springs, Arkansas in April 2005, to visit a girlfriend at her parents' house. We stopped in Little Rock to visit the Clinton Presidential Library there, and as we were getting in the car to leave, Romie noticed the Secret Service outside the building where we were parked (not the library). I went over and asked them what was going on (while Romie was shaking his head at my assertiveness) and they informed me that President Clinton was inside the building. Having never met a president before, I asked if we might go inside, to which they replied, "It's a public building."
   
   We went in, and after waiting a couple of hours, we did indeed get to meet the former president. While I'm not particularly a Clinton fan, it was a thrilling moment and when you are speaking with him, he has a way of making you feel like you're the only person in the room.
   
   As a bonus, we also met Ted Danson. He and his lovely wife Mary Steenburgen were there to meet with President Clinton and we were lucky enough to chat a bit with him prior to our meeting the president. What a charmer he was, as well.
   
   We'd been out doing some geocaching prior to our library visit, so we really weren't dressed appropriately for meeting and being photographed with such celebrities, but that's the way it goes.
   
   
6. I am generally right-handed, but I do some things left-handed, like bowl and clap (left hand on top of right). I can eat with either hand, but I am strictly a right-handed writer. I blame this ambidexterity on my father, who is left-handed, although he made me learn to throw a softball right-handed when I felt it natural to use my left hand. As a result, I was never a good thrower and was put at second base, since most times that only required throwing a short distance. In all, the fact that I was a good hitter is probably what kept me on the team.
   
   Oh, and I wear my watch on my right wrist. It just feels funny on the left one.
   
   
7. I used to play the harp. I say used to, because it's been several years since I've sat down and really played it. It's something I'd wanted to learn to do for a very long time and when I discovered that a harp instructor lived just eight miles from us, I seized the opportunity to learn.
   
   I took lessons for two years and enjoyed it, but it wasn't a particularly good time to devote my energies towards all the practice it required. The girls were teenagers and I was working three days a week. They were active in sports and I just didn't have the time and energy to keep up with it. I still have my harp though, and I might just have a go at it again someday.
   

So Mangos Are a Fruit? Who Knew!

Photo from USDA

I was well into my twenties before I found out there was a fruit called mango. You see, I grew up with green mangos. The bell pepper, green pepper mangos. That's what they were called in my house and I'd never seen or heard of the fruit. Mango as a fruit wasn't that common around here and still isn't eaten commonly, although it is available in the produce section of the grocery stores.

It's been said that I am making this up, this calling a green pepper a mango, but I swear, I'm not. However, when I encountered numerous individuals that gave me 'the look' whenever I mentioned this, I decided I'd better do some investigating about its origin.

What I found was this, on FoodReference.com's website:


GREEN PEPPERS AND MANGOS

The word ‘mango’ is used in some areas to refer to green peppers or stuffed green peppers. Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois and Missouri are all states that I have received e-mails about grandparents, parents and even current usage of ‘mango’ for green pepper.

Recent information I have come across (thanks in part to an e-mail from website visitor Richard Clark) I believe explains how and why the usage of the word spread along the path it did. Usage of 'mango' for green peppers seems to have originated with coal miners in eastern Pennsylvania (1870s +) - and spread with the mining industries, and then with the miners' families as they migrated to new areas and found new jobs.

But why the word 'mango' for green peppers? Many of these coal miners were of Eastern European origin, and it has been suggested that the word may have a Slovak origin. The English 'dialect' of the Appalachian region with its unique pronunciation, grammar, and word usage is due in large part to the immigration of miners, engineers and others from so many countries coming together in one area and being relatively isolated in the small mining towns. They came from Russia, Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Germany, Scotland, Wales, Greece, Turkey, and Syria to name a few - so the word 'mango' might have been adapted from one of these languages.


From the American Dictionary of Regional English (Harvard University Press) as reported on the PBS website:

2 also mango pepper ... A pepper, esp a green pepper 1. chiefly W Midl See Map1948 WELS Suppl. VA, I was surprised while living in Virginia to see green peppers advertised and sold as " mangoes...The use of the term mango for bell pepper . . is not limited to Indiana. I have heard it used in Louisiana and Georgia. We once had an old English gardener up in Vermont many years ago, and he always called the green pepper a mango. ... 1972 NYT Article Letters cnIN, In my home area, green (bell) peppers are called mangos


And Wikipedia reports:

In many midwestern regions of the United States the Sweet Bell Pepper is commonly called a mango. With the modern advent of fresh tropical fruit importers exposing a wider latitude of individuals to the tropical fruit variety of the Mango, this definition is becoming archaic. However many menus still call a stuffed Bell Pepper a Mango.


My grandmother's family lived in Virginia for a time, in fact, she was born there and was named Virginia, so it might be thought that in our family, this calling a green pepper a mango came from their living in that region. But if you ask others that live here in our part of Ohio if they've ever heard a green pepper called a mango, nine times out of ten you'll hear, "Sure!" accompanied by a look that says, "Why on earth would you ask such a thing?"

It might be something that's dying out, however, because it does seem to be the older people that are familiar with this. My own daughters had to be informed of the green pepper/mango nomenclature, just as it had to be explained what an adding machine was. I'll never forget the day I used that term in front of them. I was nearly laughed right out of the car.

"Don't you mean a calculator, Mom?" Now, I know what a calculator is and I know what an adding machine is, and they are not the same. An adding machine has paper - a calculator does not. A printing calculator does, so that would make an adding machine akin to a printing calculator. Got it now, kids?

I love this linguistic stuff. I say we embrace our regionalism and generationalism, while at the same time being open to learning new (to us) words and terms that are used for the same things. That way, when you're in Wisconsin and you're thirsty, you can ask for directions to the nearest bubbler.


(That's 'drinking fountain' for some of the rest of us, in case you didn't know.)

Rhymes With Orange

Happy Birthday, USA!

Though today is our nation's 231st birthday, we celebrated Sunday night. Kara and Adam had invited us over for a cookout at their home in Defiance, along with Adam's parents, Romie's sister Angie and her husband Steve (who also happens to be my cousin!) and their youngest daughter Renee, their oldest daughter Sarah and her husband Andy, and their friends Nick and Brandi.

We had hot dogs and brats and burgers off the grill, macaroni salad (that's what we brought), baked beans, chips and homemade salsa, pretzels, and strawberry pie. I think there were other things, too, but I can't remember right now. It was all good! I was asked for my recipe for the macaroni salad and just in case you want it, too, here it is:

Cook some macaroni (preferably Barilla - this time I used their Cellentani). Add some Miracle Whip, about five or six hard-boiled eggs (chopped), half an onion (chopped), some sugar, a cucumber (diced), a little milk and some salt and pepper.

Yeah, that's the recipe and that's about as exact as it's going to get. It never comes out the same way twice. Just like my chili.

There were several games of Hillbilly Horseshoe, which I found out is actually correctly called Washers. There was a square box with a coffee can inside. Two teams consisting of two players each, toss four 3-inch washers and try to get them in the can, or as close as possible. Let me tell you right now, this is yet another game that I'm no good at, but it was fun playing.





The fireworks were held just a few blocks away, so we walked down to Pontiac Park, which is on the north bank of the Maumee River, at its confluence with the Auglaize River. This park was named for Chief Pontiac, of the Ottawa Indian tribe, who was believed to be born here.




Every spring, a Blessing of the Waters is held here. A few years ago, we serendipitously happened upon the ceremony, of which we were previously unaware.





We spread our blankets on the bank of the river and waited for dusk and the fireworks. It was the absolute best location, as we could just lay back and watch them go off directly overhead.








They were pretty good, as was the evening spent with family and friends.

Turning Point

When I walked outside just a little bit ago, I was stopped dead in my tracks by what I heard. For the first time this summer, I heard cicadas buzzing. Or chirruping. Or singing. Or whatever it is they do. It used to be said around here that when you heard the cicadas, it was six weeks until frost. But time has taught me that just isn't true.

Tomorrow is July 4th, and I always feel like when the 4th gets here, summer is half over. It's not, by the calendar, but in terms of the garden it's probably not that far off.

I'm getting to the point where I'm not as enamored with certain things in the garden anymore. When things first start growing and blooming, I cherish every petal and leaf that appears. Then when things get a bit overgrown, I get disgusted with their messy ways.

Take things like lovage and borage. I grew borage last year and ended up ripping the whole thing out by midsummer because it got so overgrown and threatened to overtake everything within three feet of it. This year, the lovage seems to be doing the same. I don't remember it being like that last year. Tonight, I whacked out all the blooming stalks, which were as tall as I am, and left the shorter foliage. I could see new foliage coming out of the ground at its base, so I'm sure it didn't hurt a thing. Besides, it's an herb, right? Herbs are meant to be cut.

I also pruned all the blooming stalks from the potentilla ('Melton Fire'). I wintersowed this two winters ago and it didn't bloom last summer. This year it did, but it blooms on its perimeter, not in the middle, and it was competing with the surrounding plants for space, so I cut them off. They had been blooming for quite some time now and about half of the blooms were gone anyway.

I ripped out a bunch of ribbon grass, too. Talk about invasive! I love its stripey look, but it sends out underground runners like a lot of grasses do, so I have to keep it under control by tearing some of it out every now and then.

I think a lot of things are looking raggedy due to the lack of rain. We've been watering regularly, but it's still not the same as rain. I think my pruning urges are my subconscious efforts to get rid of the reminders of what the gardens are suffering as a result of being starved for precipitation.

Bug Shots

Just a few other living things that we've observed

in or near our gardens:

Baby grasshopper
on a daylily petal


Bee-fly (Bombylius major)
on Rock Cress


Giant Ichneumon Wasp
on Virginia Bluebells


Hummingbird Clearwing Moth (Hemarus thyshe)
on Petite Monarda


Striped Cucumber Beetle (Acalymma vittatum)
inside Canteloupe blossom

Running Crab Spider (Tibellus oblongus)
on Iris leaf, with prey


White-Marked Tussock Moth (Orgyia leucostigma)
caterpillar found feeding on miniature roses


Blue Spotted Salamander (Ambystoma laterale)
found in the swimming pool

Red Admiral (Vanessa atalanta) Butterfly on Sea Holly


Bee
on Drumstick Allium


Katydid
on Dieffenbachia


Crab Spider (Misumena vatia)
on white peony


I did not find these in my garden (thank goodness!), but in a public park in Bryan, Ohio, last Monday, where we had a picnic before visiting Goll Woods. I can't believe how brazen those Japanese Beetles are...

Beans In My Pockets

It happens all the time: I head out to the garden with a task in mind, and while I'm out there doing that, I see something else that grabs my attention and I'm off on that tangent. And while I'm in the middle of doing that, another thing calls to me and I'm off in yet another direction. It's the same when I'm working in the house, so I don't know why I should think my gardening would be any different.

Late this afternoon, I headed out to the garden to do some deadheading so that I could at least look back on the day and feel like I made myself somewhat useful. I've mentioned before that I have fibromyalgia and sometimes it makes me very uncomfortable due to pain, or it leaves me feeling so wiped out that even breathing is an effort. Sometimes it does both at the same time. For the past two days, it's been the exhaustion. We've had picture perfect days, too, and normally I would be living outdoors, but not when I feel like this.

There... see? I've gone off on a tangent...

Anyway, I was deadheading and noticed the ground was really dry (again), and needed watering. I stopped deadheading and walked up to the pool house to get the sprinkler, hooked it up and started to water the veggies, when I noticed there were green beans that needed picking. I did that, and when I walked back to the house, the cargo pockets on my pants were full. I knew these pants would come in handy in the garden!

We planted Jade Green bush beans this year - same as last - in fact, we planted leftover seeds from last year. We had great germination and now have wonderful large, healthy plants with oodles of blooms and beans. When they first started growing, something was eating holes in the leaves. I didn't see what was doing the damage, but I sprayed them anyway with Garden Safe insecticide and I haven't had to spray them since. I think these are the healthiest bean plants we've ever had!

I picked a few beans several days ago, for the first time this year, and after I got done picking tonight, we have enough for a couple of meals. Green beans are the only vegetable that I will eat canned (versus frozen or fresh, and even then they have to be french style), but I much prefer fresh out of the garden, cooked tender crisp, with butter, salt, and pepper.

We've had a little bit of spinach from our second crop, and the melons are growing noticeably bigger each day. They're the cutest little things right now, with their little stripes and ridges. The strawberries are done and the leaf lettuce is still producing, but a few of the larger plants are starting to bolt.


I've pulled a couple large beets, but the rest of those are pretty small yet. I should have thinned them, I guess. The sweet corn is tasseled out and some of the stalks are shooting ears. The Swiss Chard ('Bright Lights') is getting quite large, and while we could eat it, we grow that just for the fun colors. The onions are growing, but it will be awhile before we eat those.


Finally, the cucumbers are starting to vine up the trellis Romie made and they're loaded with blossoms, as are the tomatoes.

I can't believe it's July already. Just two more months and we'll be heading into fall, with the vegetable garden winding down for the year. But for now, we'll just enjoy this season of good eating, fresh from the garden.

Zowie!

So this is the zinnia that got all the hype last year. My mom looked all spring and half the summer for 'Zowie' zinnia seeds and never did find any. When I ordered some seeds from Burpee's this spring, I noticed they offered 'Zowie.' I ordered a packet for me and one for my mom, and gave them to her the day we went to the Cincinnati Flower Show.

Poor Mom. She can't find them. And mine started blooming this week.

Each packet contained 15 seeds and every single one of mine germinated. I'll be saving the seed from this year's blooms, and I'll put some back for my mom so she can grow her 'Zowie' next year.

Honestly? I'm not sure why these are any more special than any other zinnias out there. I grew a nice one several years ago (pictured at right), when I wasn't a 'real' gardener and didn't have a clue what a cultivar even was. It was just a zinnia. 'Swizzle - Scarlet & Yellow' is similar, easier to find, and much cheaper. It could be that that is the one I had back then.

'Zowie' was a 2006 All-America Selection, and claims to be a non-stop bloomer until frost, with 3-5" blooms on 2-3' tall plants. Mine? Two inches across on ten-inch plants. But we're having a hot, dry summer.

Oh, and how do you say zinnia? Zeen' ya? Or zinn' ya?

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