Blooming Today at Seven Oaks

Today's blog post is simply this: pictures of what's blooming at Seven Oaks.  Plus I couldn't resist snapping a quick picture of the perennial garden with my gardening helper, Pierre, jaunting along the pathway.  This is the garden we built into the steep slope next to the driveway.  We have one small section of pathway to complete and I have more sections to weed this year, but I wanted to take a 'before' picture today so you could see the bones of the garden...the hardscapes...the beautiful form that hubby and I created....and in a few short weeks I will take another image from the same spot and you can see it in bloom. 

Pierre in the perennial garden

Iris

Kerria japonica, shrub that attracts many pollinators

Yellow columbine grown from seed

Gardening in January

Garden entrance - in warmer days!

Gardening in January sounds like wishful thinking, but I found myself outside today in the flower garden for a good two hours today doing just that - gardening in January. Normally at the time of year in our Zone 6B garden the ground would be frozen solid, and it's likely there would be a few inches to a foot or more of snow covering the ground. Not this year. This year, the crocus are already pushing up through the soil, as are the tulips. Even the tulips nearest the garage that are in a bed I consider "cool" because it doesn't get direct sunlight until late afternoon are starting to break the soil. The forsythia look like they'll bud at any moment, as do the peach trees.  I've got yarrow blooming.  Yarrow.  And hollyhocks and foxglove with green, healthy leaves.

The weather patterns here in the Piedmon region are unpredictable. Some winters our garden is more like the gardens closer to the Blue Ridge Mountains - cold and snowy.  Then periodically we get a winter like this, where I can be outdoors in my sweatshirt on January 28, trimming perennials back (that I should have done in the fall), fixing fallen peony and plant hoops, and pulling up some of the weedy grasses that sprinkle throughout the garden.

Doing the garden cleanup chores in January, when all of the perennials have died back, yielded several surprises. First, it was easier to see where my nemesis, the blackberry, had invaded the flower beds. I was actually cutting back the Rudbeckia and reached down to grab the dead canes when my thumb was stabbed with a sharp, shooting pain.  Now you have to understand that my gardening gloves, which are less than a year old, are so worn that I have gigantic holes in the thumbs and a few fingertips.  I looked down and had blood welling from the thumb; there was a huge thorn embedded in it.  "What the heck?" I wondered, since Black Eyed Susan, the common named for Rubeckia, is thornless.  I dug a bit under the fallen leaves and there it was, the blackberry cane.  I was able to snip it back down to soil level.  I'll have to dig it up if I want it truly out and gone, but at least I can keep them clipped back if I know where they are.

I was also able to see where a whole new crop of garden volunteers have self-seeded.  I've got Buddleia sprouting everywhere, more Gaillardia, and coreopsis.   As part of my volunteer hours for the Virginia Master Gardener program this spring, I'll pot up some of those perennials and bring them to the Heart of Virginia sale in early May.   I'll post a list of what I'm sharing from my garden as part of the fundraiser as we get closer to spring.

It already feels like spring.  It's 55 degrees outside now, and I've got the windows open in my office.  I've been feeling down in the dumps lately, but my energy and happiness is back thanks to a few hours spent under the soft rays of winter sun with a clear blue sky overhead and soft breezes unraveling my pony tail.  When I came inside, I brushed out my hair, and Rudbeckia seeds tumbled out.  It makes me feel like spring can't be far away.

Wondering About Wonder

I walked Shadow around the flower garden today, and noticed with surprise that the lavender border I planted around the roses is blooming again.  Most years I get one beautiful show of lavender in June, then nothing for the rest of the season.  This has been the oddest fall temperature and plant-wise since I moved to Virginia. It's been very rainy, with five inches of rain in one week, and cool. Perhaps that has something to do with it? Perhaps the lavender thinks it is spring again? I can't quite figure it out.

We have an odd vine that is growing out of the driveway, and it has set fruit. I'm betting it's a stray cantaloupe. I am careful not to compost the seeds and I did not grow any this year, but every once in a while a seed clings to the compost bin or to the rind, and my best guess is that a squirrel carried the seed with him across the driveway and accidentally planted it. The gravel driveway has made a neat little micro climate, and the heat radiating up from the dark gravel must be keeping the melon toasty warm during this cool snap. I wonder how long we can keep it alive? Every day we go outside and check out little melon. We guided the vines back into the flower garden so that the car won't run it over every time someone drives in and out.

In the vegetable garden, the tomatoes seem to have finally cried 'uncle' and given up. They're flopping this way and that with nary a tomato in sight. Shelob, the giant spider named after the spider in the Lord of the Rings series of books, still holds court in the tomato bed. She turned in the opposite direction, however, with her back facing the sun instead of her abdomen facing the sun, and she's turner her web now so that instead of it on a direct north-south access, it's slightly angled east-west.  Another thing that fascinates me but to which I have no answer. Did she sense the windy days we have had over the past week, with winds coming from the east, and change direction so that insects are blown into her web?

There are so many questions I have about my garden. Why did we get gigantic 'fairy rings' of mushrooms this year, not just in our yard, but in the neighbors' yards too? I'm talking gigantic 10-20 foot circles of perfectly formed mushrooms, the likes of which we have never seen before. Why was this a great year for peppers and a not so great year for tomatoes? Why did the spider angle her web different?  Why is my lavender blooming in September? And why oh why are all the dogwood trees already turning colors, and the under story trees, as if they sense an extra cold winter on hand?

I think that if you love a garden and you have even a modicum of curiosity, you will never be bored. There is always something to learn, explore and wonder about. It seems like every day as I walk to get the mail or just walk the dog, I stumble over another mystery, raise another question. 

"I wonder" has become my mantra.

Pollinators at Work in the Morning Glory Vine

On Monday mornings, I usually take my camera into the garden and take photographs for articles I plan to write during the week. We got just about 5 inches of rain last week from a strong thunderstorm and the outer rim of Hurricane Irene, and the flowers just love it. I noticed that the morning glory vine growing over the trellis at the garden entrance looked particularly lovely, so I stepped closer to get some closeup photos of the various hued flowers. It was then that I noticed that some of the flowers were bouncing up and down, but there was no wind. As I watched, this little bee backed out of the deep throat of the flower. He was so coated with pollen that he was nearly indistinguishable from the white throat of the flower. Bees have always been a symbol of industry and hard work, and watching this guy move from flower to flower, diving in headfirst, then wiggling his bulbous butt as he backed out of the flower made me laugh. He never rested, though. He kept moving from flower to flower no matter how much pollen stuck to his abdomen.  I tried to capture my new pollinator friend at work in these photos.  Can you spot him?

New Blooms in the Flower Garden-Rose of Sharon Bush

Today's flowers are courtesy of my friend, Patty. Two years ago she gave me a little seedling she'd transplanted from her garden - a Rose of Sharon. I've never grown Rose of Sharon before and had no idea what to expect. We planted it at the back of the flower garden, near my climbing rose. That area of the garden gets partial sun, partial shade, and the soil isn't great, but Patty assured me that Rose of Sharon bushes are tough plants and can tolerate a wide variety of conditions. So we planted and waited.

This morning I was rewarded by the first pink blossom on the Rose of Sharon. I like it because it reminds me of the hibiscus growing in the butterfly garden, which is another favorite plant. And for good reason: technically, this particular Rose of Sharon is called Hibiscus syriacus, and the two are related.

According to Plant Care Guides from the National Gardening Association, Rose of Sharon grow as high as 8 to 12 feet tall, so my little 2 ft plant will grow to be a giant if all goes well. Rose of Sharon are very easy care and flower abundantly in late summer and early fall, the perfect time in my garden when most other plants are finished flowering.  Plant Care Guides states that Rose of Sharon produces flowers on new wood, so pruning  in early spring is a must. I'll just give this one a little gentle pruning to encourage flowers. I don't want to cut it back too much and damage it.  There are plenty of buds on it this year, and I am looking forward to more of the display from my new Rose of Sharon bush.

*   *   * 

Thank you to those who sent me kind messages via social media regarding our string of amazing events last week. I told my sister Mary yesterday, "Every day held a new challenge, but I am hopeful that I will get a nice, boring peaceful week!"  Hurricane Irene gave us a great deal of wind and rain, mostly rain, and fortunately the power remained on.  We are still experiencing a few minor aftershocks from last Tuesday's 5.9 magnitude earthquake but nothing major. Thank you to all for your good wishes.

Unexpected Surprises

Sometimes you have things all planned out, and an unexpected surprise delights you.  The other day, I was busily working away when my Internet connection went down. Now, I work from home as a freelance writer, editor and marketing consultant, and I rely upon my Internet connection for the majority of my work. When it stops, often I must stop, too.  After half an hour of fruitless clicking the little antenna icon on my computer tray, I gave up and grabbed my camera. I figured I could take my week's worth of pictures out in the garden. I write about herbs and gardening a lot, and try to take many of the pictures myself, so at least once a week you can find me outside snapping images at dawn or dusk to capture what I need.

The sky was a brilliant blue with puffy, fleecy clouds, and I realized that many of the sunflowers growing along the south side of the house had bent under the weight of their flower heads. By standing underneath, I could snap the sunflower and the blue sky, and crop out the window screens and side of the house. So I started snapping away.

When I loaded the pictures onto the computer, I burst out laughing.  There, putting along, was a big fat bumble bee, and my camera not only captured him in mid-flight heading to the sunflower...it captured his journey away,  probably annoyed with me for disturbing his snack!

I love it. It reminded me that sometimes unexpected surprises are the best ones of all.

See my friend leaving (lower right corner?) Bee zooms away

Memorial Gardens, or Remembering Loved Ones Through Plants

It seems as if I use many flowers and plants to remember people I love who are living still or people I love who have passed on. My mother, for instance, loved the garden and my childhood memories are tinted with the yellow of Kerria japonica, a snowball viburnum that shaded the screened in porch, gladiolus blooming next to the brick, tumbles of yellow and red roses. I found myself unconsciously drawn to such plants as I selected flowers for my gardens at my new home here in Virginia. "Rosemary for remembrance" may be just a saying, but all plants bring with them powerful connotations and memories.

Kerria japonica. Thank you Joan!

Today, the Kerria bloomed for the first time, reminding me again of the power of flowers and plants to help us remember. This poor Kerria came as a bundle of sticks caked in mud. I'd wanted one for ages, but the only one I could find was from a nursery online and they wanted $25 for a little potted plant. No thank you. I put the word out among my gardening friends that I wanted one, and wouldn't you know it but a short time later my friend Joan called to say that a neighbor was ripping out a whole hedge of them, and would I like one? Sure! She showed up with a bag that looked like a bunch of green twigs caked in mud.  We planted them without much hope in a sunny spot in the new garden area on the southern side of the house that we installed this spring, and waited. Leaves appeared, but they still looked like sticks.  Now today; one single yellow flower, like a pompom, stuck to the end of one of the twigs. The Kerria has bloomed at last!

Sunlight through the leaves of the snowball Viburnum, like stained glass

Mums for my dad; Kerria, snowball viburnum, Blaze roses for my mom; holly for Aunt Betty; butterflies for Aunt Lucille, because they are such a wonderful Christian symbol of rebirth and renewal.

What will people grow to remember me by, I wonder?  (Probably something weedy with thorns!)

Butterfly on butterfly bush today in the garden.

Hot Summer Colors in the Garden

I tend to go for bright, bold colors in the garden, and the hot orange snapdragons and zinnias shown here are just two examples of what's blooming in the garden now that attests to my love for powerful, bright, clear colors. Part of this is simply a function of what will show up best in the larger spaces here in my garden at Seven Oaks. I love gazing at my garden from my office window, where I have a nearly unobstructed view from above of the beautiful flower gardens in front of the house. It's easier to see bright colors from a distance. My Bonica rose, for example, is a light pastel pink, and unless the entire bush is covered with flowers, it really fades into the background.

Not so the bright, clear sunny yellows of the daisies and black-eyed Susans blooming now. They pop into bright punctuation marks throughout the garden. Even the orange daylilies, the yellow Stella d'Oro daylilies, and the Asiatic lilies are all shades of bright clear orange or yellow.


Many garden design experts recommend planting cool shades in hot climates to tone things down, but I tend to like to turn the volume up to 11, to paraphrase the movie Spinal Tap. How can you tone down a  July day in full sun in Virginia? It's hot. No two ways about it.  Might as well admit it and enjoy it, right?

 

Actually, if you want to cool down...take a walk in the woods.  The woods are where we go to cool off, although the ever-present, always disgusting ticks keep my to the paths. Today I saw a flock of wild turkey hens and dozens and dozens of tiny chicks hopping away.  Toads darted from underneath a fallen log and a painted box turtle made his way slowly away from the compost pile, which I've tucked in among the trees. I suspect that both the box turtle and the toads found a hearty meal among the flies and insects buzzing near the compost pile!

 

Yes, these are my woods...lovely and cool on a hot day!

Before I close today's entry, one of Pierre's many fans wanted to know what was going on with the critters. Well, things have been very quiet with them both.  Oh sure, the usual mischief. Pierre disappeared yesterday when I thought he was on the porch and I found him jaunting about the woods; bad kitty took himself for a walk.  Just for his fan who wrote to me, I will close with pictures of his royal highness, prince of the household, Mr. Pierre himself.

Odd Red Coreopsis in the Garden Today

Red flower amidst yellow Coreopsis tinctoria

On Monday morning, I usually step outside with my camera and capture as many images as I can of the garden, the wildlife and the woods; most of the picture accompany various articles I have due during the week.  As I stepped down the new (and spiffy, I might add) garden path, I stopped to take some pictures of the Coreopsis tinctoria or "Plains Coreopsis" I have growing throughout the garden. I planted one small seed package, and it reseeds so prolifically that I have it growing throughout the garden now. I used to dislike it, but now I like it - mostly because the flowers smother out weeds. I remain suspicious of it, however, mostly for its tendency to reseed so freely I'm pulling plants out of our gravel driveway. Tough as nails, that Coreopsis.

A flash of red caught my eye and I bent closer to inspect it. Imagine my surprise when I found a red coreopsis growing among the yellow ones. At first I thought it might be a stray cosmos, but no - the leaves are identical to Coreopsis tinctoria.

Have you ever heard of this? I know red is another common color, but I have never grown red in my garden - and none of my neighbors have red either.  Is this just a typical genetic fluke or what? The only ones I could find online claim to be dwarf red Coreopsis tinctoria, but this one isn't dwarf - it's nearly 3 feet tall, as tall as its neighbors.

I'm just glad I happened to photograph that Coreopsis and not another patch in the garden!

Red - growing among the yellow - Coreopsis-like foliage....

More in the same area. I couldn't find another red one!

The Changing Garden Color Palette

Each month, a new color palette sweeps through the flower garden. I didn't do that on purpose; I'm not that skilled at garden design. I just plant what I love and the rest follows.

Early spring finds hues of purple and pink scattered throughout the garden, punctuated by bright red, yellow, apricot and pastel pink tulips. Nodding daffodils also add bursts of color, but the main theme is pink and purple.

As May transitioned into June, I noticed more yellow flowers blooming, and now that we are into the second week of June, the predominant colors are yellow and orange.  Purple lavender, purple and pink petunias and hummingbird flower, fuchsia colored yarrow and red roses accent the garden, but the main theme is yellow and orange.

Bright patches of yellow daisies, yellow Stella d'Oro daylilies, and yellow and orange Gaillardia create sweeps of color. What I've noticed is that flowers that reseed and spread freely, such as the Gaillardia, are taking over big patches of the flower garden which is fine by me.  The more flowers I have planted there, the less room there is for weeds! But it is also creating dominant color palettes.

A wildflower-like effect among the perennials; the pinks are mini hollyhocks, and the others are coreopsis, ox-eye daisy (a true wildflower) and Gaillardia

Yellow coneflower blooming now with visitor

Stella d'Oro Daylilies

Nature is more skilled as a painter than I am, and I am grateful for her masterful touch in the garden choosing the color palette!

Lavender, Roses and Bees-Flower Gardening Magic

Lavender blooms profusely throughout the garden now, and the border around the rose garden area is a symphony of humming and buzzing. Hubby and I worked on the garden pathways on Saturday, completing a record number of feet in one day; we finished the main pathway steps, then the circle around the rose garden. We have about 5 more feet of walkway to complete, stones on the work path to cement, and then we need to agree on the "ta-da!" factor at the garden entrance. I set aside a special stepping stone I bought at B and M Greenhouse in Farmville for the entrance; it has a butterfly impressed upon its surface. I'm considering buying those bright rock-sized glass stones at the dollar store that florists use to fill clear vases with to create a stained-glass effect, but I can't decide if it will look dazzling or Las Vegas showgirl cheap at the entrance. I get the sneaking suspicion that a scattering of those glass rocks may look too glittery for my country garden. I also have visions of them becoming slick with moss over the years and causing someone to tumble down the garden path a la Jack and Jill in the old nursery rhyme. I think I'd better wait and see what Hubby comes up with.

Garden entrance. Tempting to add some glitz, but it's going to ruin the natural look! Morning glories climb the trellis.

You can see from the pictures today how we are working on the pathways. First, they are cleared of weeds. The ground is hard-packed clay so I usually pull the larger weeds first thing in the morning when the dew wets the ground enough to loosen the weeds. Next, we tack down 4 foot wide landscape fabric.  Turns are tough; you have to slice and fold the fabric like wrapping a present.

The path to the right shows you stones on fabric. The pebbles are added last.

Next, we place the slates. That's another tough job since we bought the wrong kind of slates - we purchased the kind people use to build stone walls, not the kind for pathways. They're all of different thicknesses.  We have to work carefully through the piles of slates and find ones of comparable thickness. Then we have to spend time placing them into a pleasing pattern.

Last, I haul buckets of pebbles from the pile we had delivered.  Originally we bought Quick Krete concrete filler pebbles, but the company changed them from the nice little white and natural colored stones to ugly dark gray ones this year. Bags were a lot easier to haul around the garden, that's for sure. Instead, we bought a truckload of river stones from Jamerson's in Appomattox, and had them delivered into a big pile.  My job during construction is to walk two pails back and forth from the pile up the slight hill to wherever Hubby is working.  We dump the pails, and then do it all over. I am hoping it builds beautiful biceps muscles; I hauled so many pounds of stones this weekend I must have gotten a good workout!

Flower garden is buzzing with bees!

But the lavender and the bees...I couldn't get over the variety of bees buzzing about the lavender. Bumble bees, honey bees, wasps, hornets, yellow jackets. I know it sounds like a nightmare, and if you'd asked me this back in New York City before I moved, when I was a happily commuting suburbanite, my reaction would have been "Where's the can of Raid?"  I hated bees. My mom used to frighten me every time I went outside to play, "Now stay away from the bees or you'll get stung!" as if getting stung is the worse thing in the world. Well, I got stung by a yellow jacket last year when I reached into the strawberry bed and picked a strawberry the yellow jacket coveted; he stung my finger, and while it hurt like blazes, I'm alive to tell the tale. Now that I know I can survive a sting, I'm not afraid anymore.

The buzzing from the lavender patch is a living things. It pulses and soars, rising during the hottest part of the afternoon, the sound gently diminishing as dusk falls.  Last night I took a little walk around the flower garden to admire our hard work.  Even though night was approaching, there were still some bees, hard at work in the lavender patch.  I admired their industry.  "Busy as a bee" indeed.

Please enjoy the pictures of our progress on the flower garden.  All of these pictures were taken today here in my garden.

Blaze climbing rose on the hand-made trellis added this year.

Peonies in Bloom and Peony Growing Tips

Peonies bloom around the first week of May in Virginia, and our climate here at Seven Oaks seems extremely well-suited to growing peonies. If I remember to bring my camera with my on my way to church on Sunday, I will stop and take pictures of peonies growing in the yard of an old, turn of the last century home in Prospect that now looks like it's used to store furniture. The yard has a line of peony bushes that must be over 100 years old. These unkempt, uncared for bushes flourish and produce the most amazing display of pink and white flowers I've ever seen. If you're in the Prospect area, look at the house to the right of the post office, sandwiched between the post office and the fire station.  Peonies must be hardier than I ever gave them credit for!

Festiva Maxima after the heavy rains last night. I use a peony hoop for support. Without it my plants would be flattened.

Here at Seven Oaks, I have four peony bushes from a sample package of five I purchased in 2008.  I bought the sample collection from Breck's nursery and four survived.  The four that survived include:

1. Dr. Alex Fleming, a hot pink flower
2. Festiva Maxima - my all time favorite
3. President Taft - delicate pink flowers (doesn't remind me of Taft at all, but go figure)
4. Sorbet

Last year we also added a tree peony to the island garden bed in the lawn. We thought it died, but it came back this year quite nicely.

Pres. Taft peony (background) with salvia blooming (foreground)

Two peonies - Sorbet and Dr. Alex Fleming - are in the island bed.  Flanking the garden path at the corners where two pathways meet are the "Festiva Maxima" and "President Taft" peonies, like twin sentinels greeting you after you enter through the main garden pathway.

Peonies won't bloom if they don't receive enough sunlight, so be sure to plant them in full sun. They also dislike being moved or divided and may sulk the first year after transplanting.

I wrote an article on How to Get Peony Flowers to Bloom which many readers wrote to me to say they found helpful.  Please click the link above to read my tips on getting your peonies to bloom.

More pictures from the flower garden at Seven Oaks. These were taken last year.

Pinks dominate this corner of the garden - foxglove and peony in bloom

Year two for this peony and it is loaded with flowers.

Festiva Maxima with red dianthus at its feet.

Bloomerang Lilac and Old Fashioned Lilacs

Ann's Bloomerang, Year 2

Two years ago, my sister Ann gave me a gift certificate to White Flower Farm for my birthday. Last year, I bought a Bloomerang Lilac with my gift certificate and a scented geranium that was supposed to smell like apples but in reality smells like some kind of floor cleaner.  I'm pleased to say, however, that the lilac smells like - lilacs! The Bloomerang is doing fantastic in the front garden. I wrote last year how my family home in Floral Park had a small bush near the front door that was a gift from my Aunt Betty to my parents, a housewarming present; Ann's Bloomerang Lilac serves much the same purpose, and I planted it to the right of my front steps as you face my home.

The Bloomerang has lived up to its catalog hype. Not only does it bloom vigorously, it has doubled in size since planting it last year. That's saying something. Areas in front of the home or near the foundation of any home are notoriously difficult places for shrubs thanks to compacted soil and construction debris hidden under the earth. Our soil in front of the house is hard-packed clay with large chunks of gravel for drainage that strayed out from under the porch. The Bloomerang doesn't seem to care. It offers dark purple lilac flowers generously, and was among the first shrubs and the very first lilac here to bloom this year.

Three years later, the Arbor Day "twig" is this beautiful specimen

In 2009, we planted several 'twigs' purchased from the Arbor Day Society - lilacs, but they came like big sticks with one single lonely root, and we feared we'd lose them all.  We have five out of the six, with one growing into a vigorous shrub behind the house.  The smaller one in the flower garden produced its very first old-fashioned scented blossoms this year.  Yesterday we cemented more edging in the flower garden, and it's only when you're working for a while near the lilac that you notice its rich perfume.

Variegated leaf colors on the lilac from Joan

Lastly, this lilac is a rescue from my neighbor and friend Joan's house.  Joan has an amazing garden and she gifted me with three new iris last year, all of which came back, as well as this gorgeous lilac bush.  It was nestled against the brick wall of her home near an air conditioning vent and I suspect it enjoyed the condensation dripping off of her air conditioner.  She has one huge lilac she planted 14 years ago and its offspring have made a small forest of lilacs along that side of her house.  This bush was the tallest, and we noticed something different about it; it has variegated leaves, but not all the leaves have the mottled green and yellow-green pattern on them.  Just a small cluster on one section of the plant has the unusual leaves. We didn't know if this was a fluke of light or something else at her house or an exciting genetic discovery.  The shrub returned with vigor and produced its first blooms at my house, and the leaves grew back in that one patch with the same variegated color.  I have no idea why they do that but they sure are pretty. I took a picture of the leaves along with the lilac for you to enjoy.

I'd always wanted lilacs. We had no room for them in Floral Park, but my next door neighbor, Mr. Hoffman, had a big hedge of them growing near the garage. He grew them for his wife and after she died he chopped them all down.  I was sad because we couldn't grow them and he used to give me big cuttings of lilac in the spring.  In Huntington where I lived later on, we had so much shade lilacs wouldn't grow.  They were one of the first shrubs I chose for the new gardens we put in here and although we have flowers this year, the shrubs are still so small that I am not cutting the flowers to bring into the house yet. I'll wait. In a year or two, I'm guessing I'll be able to cut big bouquets, but for now I will enjoy them in the garden.

Bloomerang Flowers

My Mother's Gardenen

My mother got sick when I was in the first grade, and I didn't really know her - I mean know her as others knew her - as I grew up.  She was a different person. My earliest memories of her though are in the garden.  She planted a lovely flower garden in our backyard in Floral Park.  We had Blaze climbing roses against the garden and yellow evening primrose, ferns under the dogwood with coral bells too, and several wonderful shrubs.  One of those shrubs that I loved was the Kerria Japonica.

If you're scratching your head and wondering, "What's a Kerria?" I'm not surprised. They're hard to find. I'm not sure why. The nursery I worked for in New York had them, but they were expensive, and online they are tough to find too.  They're related to roses but with yellow flowers. I named ours the "Bee Bush" because bees just loved it.

So when I got a call Saturday morning from my gardening buddy Joan offering me not one but TWO rescued Kerrias from another neighbor's garden, I was thrilled.  Seems like someone wanted to dig up the "nuisances" shrubs and throw them out, but Joan - ever on the lookout for plants for me - snagged them, potted them up, and is acting like the gardening Santa Claus today dropping them off at her friends' houses.

I have Blaze climbing roses growing in the garden now, along with a lovely snowball viburnum and dogwoods, and a little coral bells growing next to the side steps on my porch. Each reminds me of my mother.  But adding those two Kerria to the back garden will finally complete my mother's garden or the plants I have included in memory of her.

Gardening in the Rain

It's been years since I puttered around the garden during April showers, but that's what we did today and I had a blast.  Today was a spur of the moment kind of day. After tackling the house cleaning, hubby suddenly announced he would like to go to Lowe's and buy more mulch.  So we bundled Shadow into the car and off we went. They were having a terrific sale on annuals (six plants for just 88 cents) so I bought petunias and impatiens.  When we came home, it was drizzling and raining with a heavy mist.  After lunch I was bored so I thought I would go outside and just look a bit at the garden.

Well, what gardener can just "look" at her garden? I pulled out five pots of geraniums from the plant room that I have overwintering and let them get some drizzle.  The weeds annoyed me; I grabbed my hoe from the rack in the garage and started snagging those unwelcome visitors. The next thing I knew I had a trowel in my hand and I found myself planting several dozen impatiens and petunias in the garden next to the patio and the flower garden.  And you can't just plant annuals; the seeds have to go in too!  Five packets of zinnia seeds and one package of foxglove seeds planted, another peony staked, and a new garden bed marked out with string, my sneakers were soaked, my socks soaked, and I was a bedraggled mess along with Shadow.

But really, it doesn't feel like a Saturday in April unless I'm outside gardening.

April showers do bring May flowers!

Monday Blooms in Pictures

 We finished up the major weeding and escaped injury except for one bramble plant that managed to snag a patch of bare skin on my arm, twist it, and make me cry. Bad plant! With the area thus cleared, we used M's rototiller one more time.  I was on rock patrol. Everytime the rotoiller kicked up a chunk of quartz, I'd use the rake to move it aside.

With the major weeding accomplished and all the cool weather vegetables planted, it was time for some photography.  The orchard is blooming now with daffodils. We planted 400 bulbs in 2009 and another 400 in 2010, and they are already putting on a spectacular display.  The area in the photo is large, over an acre, and we have 30 fruit trees in metal cages to keep them safe from deer and critters.  There are about 10 apple trees of various types; peaches, plums, pears, cherry and apricots.  We're hoping the daffodils spread out so that we will have a carpet of them underneath the flower canopy when the trees mature.  They are only 2-3 years old now and according to the books we read, they will take several more years before they are mature enough to bear fruit, but in the meantime we plant more bulbs each year in the hope of things to come.

Enjoy the pictures taken around the gardens yesterday.....and not to be outdone, since I'm always sharing pictures of Pierre, Shadow finally sat still long enough for me to get a good picture of her.




Orchard




Flowers under the kitchen windows



Little tulips next to the garage



Tulips, almost finished blooming

Phlox in front of the house



Candytuft



Miss Shadow dressed for "work" with her purple bandana and tennis ball