garden : ground is prepped and azaleas are coming in

We seem to have the latest-blooming azalea varieties on our block, which leads us to wonder each year whether we’ve done something wrong and the bushes just aren’t going to bloom at all. However, except for immediately following the drought, they’ve always come through; this week the color of the buds is finally visible, casting a faint sheen on the entire shrub.

After a long day of digging out roots and mixing in hummus last weekend, the foundation bed is reasonably prepared for the plants that are due to arrive in the first week of May. I made a date with a friend with a child to plant the bed on the morning of Mother’s Day, and I’m hoping to have the plants well in hand by then. In the meantime the rain is doing a wonderful job of integrating the soil, and the robins are busily attempting to eat all my worms as they come up for air in the exposed earth.

Once that bed is planted, I’ll integrate into it some of the bearded irises I inherited last year. I’ve been marking the stems as they bloom to identify the colors, but haven’t yet decided if I’ll move the white or purple ones. I’ll likely wait another month or so to see how the bed looks when the flowers start coming in; there’s a limit to how well even I can visualize a future space filled with flowers I’ve never grown before!

garden : ground is prepped and azaleas are coming in

garden : what a difference a year makes


The lavender, when I first planted it last year.


The lavender, today.

When I created a spot for the lavender at the side of the porch steps last year, I was so proud of myself for keeping it alive in a pot inside all winter. Yes, it was a little wilted, and yes, it needed more sun and hadn’t grown as much as I’d envisioned. Still, it was larger than it has been when I bought it and it seemed fundamentally healthy. Looking at the plant today, I am embarrassed to even admit that it’s the same one I planted last year. How pathetic last year’s plant looks, and how enormous this one is! I had imagined it filling the spot and becoming large and vigorous like some of the others I’ve seen around town; I had no idea that might happen in a single year. Every time I see the small herb that’s quickly becoming a shrub I’m glad I put it in the ground when I did.

Having it in a spot we pass every day is also a useful reminder to stop trying to grow perennial herbs in pots; while the sage survived the winter the (second) rosemary did not and the thyme is beyond pathetic. One of this year’s tasks is to determine a spot where the herbs will have enough sun and room to grow long-term and plant them out into the ground.

garden : what a difference a year makes

good finds at the farmers’ market


Two plants waiting for their spot in the ground.

This week was the second of my local farmers’ market, and I found much to tempt me. You might think that having 70 plants on order would have satisfied the desire for flowers; you would be wrong. I managed to escape with only two Bee Balm plants; if I’d had more cash and an actually-developed plan regarding where the culinary herbs are going to go it would have been a lot worse. However, I was glad to find the Bee Balm, as it’s a plant I wanted to include in the garden and hadn’t found in the catalogue from which I ordered. And, I have that little spot around the corner that needs filling in; I think the Bee Balm will nicely bridge the gap between the (soon to be two varieties of) irises and the wee white azaleas.

In addition to the flowers, I bought dairy products from the new dairy vendor, J-Wen Farms. The cheese looked too good to pass up, and my choice was (what’s turned out to be) a nice sharp cheddar. I’ll definitely be trying their various goat milk selections in the future. I also bought milk for my partner, and we’ll see if he likes it. I’m happy to support a local option for pastured hormone-free not-ultra-pasteurized milk if the quality is there. All those things plus organic would be ideal, but cows that rotate into a fresh paddock every day all summer are close enough to the mark for me to give it a try.

I didn’t buy any produce as we’re still working our way through the last of our winter CSA greens, and I won’t be buying much next week since we’re going out of town for a week just two days after the market. No doubt there will be many more options when I return in the first week of May; asparagus is nice, but I’m more looking forward to the appearance of sugar snap peas.

good finds at the farmers’ market

garden : rain perks everything up


Grape hyacinths in the crocus bed, with super-long grass in the background.

Now that everyone’s tulips are in bloom, I think it’s safe to say I won’t be getting much out of the bulb transplants in the little bed around the lightpost. I know that you’re not supposed to move them in the spring (for this reason) but I was quite sure I’d forget where they were if I waited. Penance is waiting until next year to see what kind of narcissus I unearthed in the backyard last spring. In the meantime, the perky little grape hyacinth that I love and everyone else finds a total nuisance did bloom and will no doubt spread their invasive seeds back into the yard via their friends the birds. That’s nature for you.


Little white azalea in its new spot by the chimney, with creeping phlox in the background.

In a rare feat of perfect timing, we moved the wee white azaleas into their new spot (on the south side of the house by the chimney) just in time for them to enjoy several days of steady soaking rain. I’ve left the drip hose there because I’m lazy, but I only used it for a half hour after we put them in place. The phlox, a native type that I’ve forgotten the name of, are already happier there than they were all last summer; they pretty much baked nigh unto death in the place where I’d had them. What can I say, I thought (1) the foundation bed was shady and (2) the azaleas would grow larger and shade them. I’ve atoned by moving them, and it looks like I’ll get several flowers on each plant, which is a pleasant bonus.


The star flowers perked up right away, and loved all the rain we got this week.


This is the perked up version of the clethra twig I (hope I) kept alive inside all winter.

The rain was also good for all the plants I moved around into and out of the front bed last week. The spring star flowers are happy and upright, despite me daring to divide them, and the iceplant has already reoriented itself toward the sun and doesn’t look quite so obviously like someone sheared it in half with a spade. The clethra—Summersweet in the local vernacular—is actually doing well, too, although since it continues to look like a bare twig it’s harder to tell. I take it as a good sign that it hasn’t simply withered away to nothing, and if I peer very closely I can see what seem to be pre-buds along the stem. Very closely, and it’s possible that I’m just seeing reflected light, but I’m hopeful. So, with the native moss phlox blooming and everything else settling in, the bed is starting to look halfway decent. I’m quite excited to see how it looks when I get the bottom row of white carpet phlox in place and the mulch all cleaned up off the sidewalk; I’m just leaving it now to try to avoid losing actual soil.


The current state of the bed along the sidewalk; you’ll have to view the full image to be able to read the labels, sorry.

garden : rain perks everything up

garden : weeding, transplanting, and a baby dove

After days of pulling up chickweed and dandelion, I finally called it done and mowed the backyard this morning; I’m leaving the front until next week to enjoy the violets a bit longer. I am quite sure I didn’t get all of the weeds, as I couldn’t be bothered to get the dandelion digger and just took the flowers. Plus, the short chickweed that I missed among the tall grass will survive my ample 3″ mower position and be back again next spring. I did learn this week that chickweed is edible, like dandelions; since we’re up to our eyeballs in the greens we actually pay for, I’m going to give eating weeds a miss this year. If the recession deepens, who knows.

In the category of ‘garden labor that is neither killing invasives nor walking around looking at flower buds’ I also moved some plants around this week. The moving around went something like: iceplant (which is really a type of sedum, although apparently now booted from the sedum family as well; I suppose taxonomists have to do something to pay the rent) from back to front; yellow daylilies from front to back, bluebells from back to side, Summersweet from a cup in the kitchen into the front bed, and some of my neighbor’s lovely little spring starflowers into the front bed. As a result of all this moving and planting, the bed along the sidewalk is starting to look quite respectable. The native phlox is blooming, and pollinators—that’s what we’re calling bees and bee-like insects these days, right?—are flocking to the lavender flowers. The aster and coneflower will be moving out of that bed to new spots by the foundation, just as soon as we get that bed prepared.

At the moment, with the violets in the lawn, the daffodils by the porch steps, and last year’s free irises sending up purple and white flowers it looks quite nice. It’s a bit frightfully respectable, as Christopher Lloyd would say, with the purple and white and yellow (which will only be enhanced when the white carpet phlox and basket-of-gold go into the front bed); although the crocuses didn’t bloom after last year’s transplanting, they are also in the same palette. Soon, however, the flaming pink azalea will be in bloom around the corner of the house — along with more white in the form of the other azaleas along the front of the house. The backyard has the huge salmon ball that is the quince bush and the flaming yellow tower that is the forsythia. What can I say, I’m not a fan of the pink, although the bright oranges, yellows and reds will be well-represented in the new sunny foundation bed. Along with (of course) more blues and whites.

As the icing on the cake of actually having flowers coming up in the garden, I was visited by a young dove while I sat on the porch. I’ve never seen one that small before, but it could fly and was following its parent on a tour of our yard. I think the nest is in the neighbor’s hedge, which is an excellent spot now that the neighbors have gotten better about keeping their cats indoors. I’m always pleased to see any birds in the yard; as I’m no longer stocking the feeders, they’re a decent gauge of how well our plantings provide food and habitat all on their own. So far the verdict seems to be: not too shabby.


With digital zoom in order not to get too close to the (4-5″ long) dove.

garden : weeding, transplanting, and a baby dove