garden log : new iris bed planted


The new bed of crested irises.

I took advantage of the few days between downpours this week to clear the liriope from under the smaller dogwood and prepare a bed for the crested irises I’ve had sitting on the porch in boxes. It’s far too late for them to bloom this year, but they’re reported to spread easily and aggressively, so I’m hoping they’ll do that over the next couple of months. In an effort to both contain that spread somewhat and create a visual boundary between the bed and the composter, I edged the bed with bricks scavenged (with permission) from our neighbors’ old patio.

While working on the bed I was amused to have a pair of catbirds hanging around chattering at me. I could tell they were just waiting for me to move back a bit so they could get at all the food I was turning up with the soil. The dirt around the tree was chock full of worms; whether that was because that part of the yard is healthier than the front or because they’re staying closer to the surface of the saturated ground, I couldn’t tell you. I was reminded of our efforts to clear the pokeweed roots last summer and the way the catbirds flocked to the turned over soil. This year’s birds haven’t gotten used to us yet, I don’t think: none of them were as bold as the ones from the previous year. Already I can tell that I need to put down a thicker layer of mulch, as the squirrels have been successfully pock-marked the bed in only two days.


The wee rose bush at the back of the house.

One of my goals for this year is to create a better environment for the four rose bushes in the yard. I am pleased to say that the pruning I gave them last autumn seems to be helping them bush out quite a bit more this year. They’re coming in quite well, and the two smaller ones already have lovely deep blooms. I know that I need to create more space around them, as they’re getting choked by weeds and being kept from drying out. I suspect the bushes are over 25 years old, possibly longer; I don’t think the previous owners planted any. One at least, the deep red very fragrant low-growing bush at the back of the house, appears to be Crimson Glory, quite possibly from soon after its introduction as a new hybrid tea rose in 1936 (the year our house was built). It’s odd to imagine a rose older than our parents just plunked at the back of our house, but nice to have the continuity with the original owners. I hope to have as much luck identifying the three other plants!

garden log : new iris bed planted

garden log : spring growth and more plant refugees


The new mini-bed of irises and prickly pear.

In keeping with my efforts to preserve all the plants I find around my yard, I volunteered to provide homes for any leftovers from the town’s annual plant exchange. I arrived home on Sunday evening to find bags of plants on the porch: bluebells, irises, prickly pear cactus, chives. The next day I cleared the grass from the front corner of the house to create a small bed that should get sun almost all day long. Into that bed, following the removing of roots and the mixing in of humus, I planted the irises. I love irises, and hope to someday have them all over the yard in various shapes, sizes, and colors. For now I will content myself with these refugees, as nearly all of the places I might plant irises, in particular the south facing wall of the garage, have several years to go before they’ll be suitable locations. Which is to say: they’re all completely overgrown with honeysuckle and the like at the moment.

Next to the irises, in some sandy soil that I did not enrich with humus, I planted a few pieces of the prickly pear. I look forward to seeing how it does there, and I hope that it won’t eventually grow so large as to prevent the gas company from reading the meter. I’m told they now have laser readers that can be used from a distance, but we’ll see. The chives I planted near the lavender at the corner of the porch, and the bluebells I passed along to my neighbor. We have bluebells in our yard already, and I’m still deciding where I’ll move them. I keep talking about moving them to the base of the maple tree in the front, but that seems like work, all that adding soil around the tree and digging up from around the rosebush and transplanting. At any rate, it hasn’t happened yet, and I decided that bluebell refugees I had aplenty. I also passed along some pachysandra, a ground cover of which another neighbor is very fond. So, our block did well from the plant exchange!


The clump of spiderwort that emerged from the swath of liriope last year.

One of the funny little surprises of our yard has been the clump of spiderwort that appeared last year seemingly out of nowhere. It’s not hard to believe that it’s been dormant under the carpet of liriope for years, but how many years is the question that fascinates us. Spiderwort appears to be native to this area, and I’ve seen it in beds around town. It’s not the most elegant plant on the planet—its spiky leaves flop all over each other and the somewhat delicate flowers get a bit lost in the foliage—but it’s a lovely deep purple and it blooms for a long time. I haven’t decided where I’ll move it; I suspect it’s destined for one of the many beds that live only in my imagination. In the meantime, I’ve cleared a little space around it and am letting it be.


The rhododendron, taking off this year.

Another plant that is creating somewhat of a quandary for us is the large rhododendron at the back of the house. On the one hand, we hate it. My partner is allergic to rhododendrons, so we’ve spent years developing a fierce dislike of the plant. Plus, it’s pink, and I’m already struggling to accept the roses, peonies, and azaleas in all their pink glory. It’s also smack in the spot that is destined to be the patio or screen porch: the one that also lives only in my imagination. As such, we’ve been trying to offer the plant to friends and neighbors alike to no avail. On the other hand, it’s a lovely plant and is likely nearly as old as our parents. After several years of neglect and poor weather—it allegedly used to be taller than the single-story addition—it’s growing and putting out all kinds of blooms. Having gotten no takers on our offers to pass it along to a yard where it will be loved and cherished rather and cursed and reviled, we’re starting to become fond of it in our own hateful way. It’s possible that when we do finally move it, it will be to another location in our own yard.


Our original peony plant, putting out all kinds of buds after having last year’s choking weeds cleared from around it.

Finally, the plant that has been the best gift of the yard is the peony. Tucked away near the back fence, it was completely choked with vines and weeds when we moved in. Last spring we cleared most of the weeds away from its base, and it produced quite a few blooms. We also received some refugee peonies from our neighbors down the road, and they seem to have mostly survived; I think we lost the smallest in the drought. It looks like we’ll get one flower from them, which is more than I expected, but they’ve all put up shoots and look to be photosynthesizing away.

It appears that luck is with me, as it will be raining for the next few days, creating perfect weeding weather: cool with nice soft soil. I am determined to make major progress on the backyard over the next couple of weeks, while it’s still arguably spring. I have no desire to repeat last year’s experience of trying to eradicate weeds that had settled in for the long haul at the height of the summer. I remind myself that we’re making enormous progress, and the photo record certainly helps to keep that clear. So, next week I hope to be reporting that I finally planted out those poor little crested irises I’ve had sitting on the porch for weeks!

garden log : spring growth and more plant refugees

media literacy 101

Today’s article in the Wall Street Journal — ‘Latinos not the plague of society as previously believed‘ — is an excellent example of why I hammered away at my students year after year about their media deconstruction skills. It’s not even necessary to be aware of the retrograde politics of the Wall Street Journal to locate this article appropriately: it’s all there from word one of the headline. Beyond the basic shocked premise of the article and before we get to the ‘shoulda built that wall when ya had the chance’ quote, we know exactly where we stand with this paper.

The authors could have chosen any word to describe the burgeoning Latino/a population in the United States: growth, expansion, increase. There are myriad forward-looking pro-development progress-marches-on ways of describing the data, both neutral and positive. The Wall Street Journal chose ‘surge.’ Surge. In this way we are encouraged to link the normal event of people having children with the insurgency — a beaut of a connotation-laden reality-twisting label right there — we’re told nearly every day is a threat to our lives in the United States.

These types of linguistic sleights of hand are so pervasive that they’re easy to miss and tempting to ignore; yet, if you read the paper every day you might end up sounding like Polly-the-right-wing-parrot to those of us who actively don’t. I wish I could say that an education in media literacy created an army of deconstructionist lefties out of my students, but it generally did not. The two biggest points I would have likely heard in their analyses would have been: (1) The Wall Street Journal hates Latino/as, and (2) surge is a stupid word, don’t use it.

While I can’t say I disagree fundamentally on either point, I hold out hope for more nuanced understandings with each example I am compelled to point out. In the meantime, I combine both points into a rule of life that works well for me: The Wall Street Journal is a stupid paper, don’t read it.

media literacy 101