Last week on a quick pilgrimage to the Kauffman Gardens I was treated to a feast of flowers. Including allium, iris, a stray rose or two, peonies ready to bloom, and dogwoods dropping their petals.
There was also the resident cat to pet and lots of spots to sit; for soaking in the quiet splendor. Afterwards, there was a trip to a favorite coffee spot.
I do love a good field trip.
This oriental poppy, planted two years ago, is coming on strong this year. It was a "bare root" specimen I ordered on line, and am glad to see it really seems to be thriving.
The flowers "hatch" like birds from this little "egg" and viola! An amazing flower.
Makes me want to set up camp right beside it, so I don't miss a single stage of the unfurling.
The flowers don't last long, but they are spectacular when in bloom.
Even after the petals fall, they are pretty amazing.
I am thinking there are seeds inside. I must harvest and sprinkle around to see if they will reproduce in numbers. Like the poppies Jeanette gave me did .
The delights of gardening experimentation can not be over-stated. Happy Friday all!
Happy Mothers day to all my favorite mothers out there. You know who you are.
This little bouquet at the market was a special hello to me from Angie.
She loved bachelor's buttons (aka centaurea cyanus and cornflowers). I have a vivid memory of her coming to help me plant flowers at the very first house we bought in Lawrence in 1985. We planted some of them on the side of the house. Afterwards we sat on the steps out front. We were hot, tired, and immensely satisfied with our work.
The fact that these came in a tall mason jar and had anemone's tucked in alongside was a bonus.
We often (as in almost always) need several bouquets at Tall Tales headquarters. Because we can, so we should. I told Chris the other day that since I am now 59 years old he should "expect to hear a lot of wisdom coming out of this pie hole". The necessity to purchase multiple bouquets at the farmers market is one such example.
Geraniums in their pots means that summer is really here.
All my selections this year are in the most amazing shades of pink I could find.
With a little trailing something or other added for interest.
And to give the rabbits a bit of camouflage. Though it would take an oversized elephant ears to hide that BIG rabbit. But he asked to come home with me last year and how could I resist?
Happy Friday. Best wishes for weekends filled with porch sitting, zinnia planting, blueberry picking, flower arranging, and giant rabbit buying extravaganzas.
The dogwoods are on parade in the Kansas City area right now. Sensational is the word that comes to mind.
Call a friend, slip on your sneakers, the neighborhoods are dressed in their Spring finery. Just waiting for me. And maybe for you?
This is a Chihuly Floribunda. Planted at Tall Tales Headquarters this week.
I spotted it at Henry's Plant Farm when I was wondering about.
I had a nice chat about it with this nice lady who looked like a rose expert to me. We discussed the dreaded "witches broom virus" and whether or not it only affects knock out roses (it doesn't) and if there was a rose that was immune (there isn't).
Because I can't live without roses, and even though it may eventually become diseased, it was purchased and planted.
And yes, there has already been a cutting brought inside. I might have to go back and get another.
There were several that caught my eye.
Luckily I did not have to get into any shoving matches with anyone over the chihuly.
These two hecklers tried, but I distracted them with the camera while Chris grabbed the rose bush and ran.
A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Especially when it comes to rose bush buying.
I am officially drunk on Spring.
Iberis Sempervirens (candytuft) is why.
It requires very little tending, just a bit of trimming back, and it makes a lovely mini flower arrangement.
The return of Baptisia australis (blue wild indigo) also plays a part. I wasn't sure it would come back after it's first season last year. But it did.
And while we are on the subject of blue...
Let us lay down in the grass and examine these.
Overnight the Japanese maple awakened. To shield me from view as I rest on the porch.
The birds are the supplying the sound, and I want to be at home, to fling open the windows and listen.
I don't want to miss one single part of Spring this year. I want to do less and just let all the amazing things wash over me. While I watch.
In perfect contentment.
While almost daily, miracles happen before my eyes.
Pansies were purchased and planted this weekend. Even though it's been a slow start to Spring, and there are likely some colder days ahead before it really settles in to stay, "pansies are meant to withstand the fickleness of a Kansas Spring". That is what Ginger the pansy expert would tell us.
Last year I planted April 1st. Getting started while it was still cool really helped them get well established.
I am hoping for an exact repeat of that experience this year.
After the big pot out bag was completely full, I had one little pansy left. Perfect for the mosaic pot out front.
I brought Chris along to the nursery to carry my selections. AND to enforce my self-imposed rule that no geraniums were to be bought yet. No matter if I told him (even if I used a very pleading tone) that I had changed m mind and NEEDED them right now before they were gone.
You can see why this precaution was necessary right?
Next weekend is geranium weekend. It's important to spread the Spring color "love-in" out over as many weekends as possible. It gives time to think in between each purchase, planning what will go in the next pots, and gives the back time to recuperate.
As cold as it was on Saturday, I wasn't sure there would be flowers at the farmers market. But there were. Lovely, sweet, smile-inducing flowers.
Several were selected to bring home. Because they were there, they make me so happy, and I could. What more reason is needed than that?
Last week, before the snow fell, when the skies were blue, I ventured out to check on my favorite star magnolia trees.
They don't live in my yard, but that did not stop me from sitting on this perfectly positioned bench to look upward.
I actually examined them from every angle, and found all to be quite pleasing.
I do not know the name of the person who decided to plant these trees and place the benches strategically underneath them. I hope whomever it was, knows what good work they did.
Seriously good.
It's hard to decide if the red sunset maple out front, or Harvey rolling around in the garden out back was the best part of the weekend.
Happily there was ample time for enjoying both. Which is exactly and precisely what weekends were made for.
Smack dab in the middle of the front yard and the back yard, I also found time to sit in the front room with my feet up and listen to Winter Soltice. Yes. Following my sister's lead, I have also been bitten by the Rosamunde Pilcher bug. Warning: highly contagious.
When I was in Los Angeles recently, Sister and I paid a visit to Descanso Gardens. She walks there regularly, but I hadn't been for many years.
They are known for their camellia collection, which were only just beginning to try and bloom when we were there. This in no way detracted from my delight with what was there.
In particular, I was attracted to these archways and trellises made from branches and twigs.
It got my mind whirring with possibilities. I mean how fun would it be to try and make something like this? So the other day when I was roaming the stacks at the library and saw this book, I snatched it up.
The way I see it, there is no harm in learning a new skill. That is what I am planning to tell Chris. Right before I mention that I think the cosmos could really benefit from some supports, and doesn't he think it's great that I found a book he can refer to for instruction.
In addition to being a perfect day for walking, Sunday was also a great day for raking. No wind, sunshine, 60 degrees. Crazy for November but we uttered no complaints.
Chris prepared the bag and I told him I had a good method for filling it.
As you see below, it is not graceful, but it gets the job done.
He then proceeded to demonstrate his method.
Then he referenced our previous disastrous tandem sea kayaking experience and said “I see your arms moving, but not a lot of progress being made”.
To which I replied “I think you will find I respond much better to compliments than criticism”.
Harvey abstained from voting on the superior method.
This Whitebanded, adult female, Crab Spider, was sitting contentedly on the flowers in the front garden yesterday morning. We chatted while I waited for the delivery truck to bring my new hard drive.
Just think, if it wasn't for that little computer melt-down, I would not have been out there and seen her. Once I spotted her, I had to conduct a search on my phone to see just what kind of spider she was. I learned they wait in ambush on flowers for visiting insects. Then they "seize their victim in the embrace of their first two pair of legs". Jeez. I'm glad I didn't see any of that while we were chatting.
Despite the unfortunate combination of a late start, a small infestation of green hornworms, and some unseasonably wet weather this summer, the tomatoes are beginning to do their thing. They are not a pretty site out there on their branches with just a few leaves, but the fruit looks good.
At last count we have 14 on the counter. Which means we will be having a tomato sandwich eating contest here Friday night.
Followed by a hot-water bath, ice-water blanch skin removal and freezing extravaganza Saturday morning. A bag of tomatoes in the freezer, ready to go for a December or January batch of tomato soup is a must.
After all that, I hope there will be just the right amount of tomatoes remaining to make a tomato pie.
And that might be the end of the Chris and Carol tomatoes for the year. This year's so-so crop will in no way dampen our enthusiasm when it comes time to plant next year. That's the beauty of gardening. Each season brings the possibility of new successes. That's how I like to look at it anyway.
"Well pleased" describes exactly and precisely how I feel about my cutting garden this year.
In particular, the zinnias.
The different shapes, sizes, and subtle (and not so subtle) variations in color.
Looking for seeds for next year is something I look forward to researching this fall and winter.
This goldfinch was taking advantage of a giant orange zinnia for a resting spot the other day. I am used to them using the cone-flowers for chairs, but not the zinnias.
I also love the cosmos and will select some different varieties next year as well. I am especially fond of these.
The photos on the world wide web of all the amazing dahlias this year (plus visiting the dahlia garden in northern California on the Grand Tour of California) have me wanting to try those next year as well. Why not? I am emboldened by small successes.
It's important to be able to walk out to your own garden and select a pleasing arrangement. Especially when you can't make it to the farmers market.
This smaller leaf basil has also been a good performer this year. Are there other herbs I should be planting to go in arrangements? I like lavender and rosemary but am interested in what others are using.
Since I am "zinnia rich" these days, I enjoyed getting a totally different bouquet from Madeline (the zinnia wizard) at the market last weekend. Lord help me these little red flowers with the white things sticking up in the middle are amazing! If anyone knows what they are, please do enlighten me.
In combination with the red and white snapdragons the whole thing was pretty spectacular.
And the gomphrena! They are on the list of seeds for next year.
So many flowers to get better acquainted with. But now I am off to finish packing. Then dive into bed. Sister and I are meeting up in Seattle tomorrow morning to head up to Lummi Island for 10 days of laughing, exploring, star-gazing, drawing, painting, and who knows what else. In the event that WiFi is limited, I will be posting on Instagram. Sweet dreams and happy weekend!
Because the proof, as they say, is in the pudding, you must look at these today.
A selection of extremely simple flower arrangements that include the cosmos and zinnias grown from seed this year! I am so excited that both the zinnias and the cosmos are tall, with long stems, that go so well with the marigolds, roses, and basil that are old time favorites.
The inspiration and credit for my cutting garden this year is from Floret Farm's Cut Flower Garden that I already told you about. But something this good deserves a second telling. I have gotten so many good ideas for how to improve my garden from this book. Even if you don't have a garden, looking at this book and dreaming about gardens will make you happy.
Today I learned a very important lesson about gardening that warrants passing along. It is this... the secret to being a successful gardener lies not in picking the right plants for the right spot,
or continually trying new flowers to spice things up,
nor is it feeding the birds.
It is not about planting fragrant things near the comfortable chair you will be sitting in regularly in order to survey your garden, or the table close by to put your beverage on.
It's not about taking garden statues from older ladies who need to be sure their treasures land in a new garden when they are ending their gardening days.
And finally, it's not about being a ruthless and unflinching pruner who fears neither bees nor snakes.
All of these things are important mind you, but the single most important thing every successful gardener needs in order to endure and have flourishing gardens is.... someone they can go to regularly that knows how to give a fabulous hand massage. Once a month at a minimum and twice a month during gardening season. Trust me on this.
This weekend while I was sitting out back, under the shade of an umbrella, admiring my weeding/trimming, sipping coffee, and wondering if the red, swollen, patch of skin on my arm was poison ivy, I discovered that I like bouquets of flowers out-of-doors as much as I do indoors.
And since we should keep cutting them so they will continue to produce (I don't think I am making that up), I made myself a nice big arrangement. These are Echinacea "secret affair" and they are extremely showy. This is their 3rd year in my garden. I have moved them once, and last year there was a family of rabbits who kept eating them, but this year... this year makes up for all that.
Don't think I have stopped with the indoor flower arrangements. I bought this little vase at the flea market in Budapest on an extremely hot day, when sister and I got our bus lines a bit messed up. Every time I look at it I am reminded of that day, and the really nice couple who sprayed us with their "mister" and we thought we had died and gone to heaven.
If you like to do this...
and this...
and this...
...then you really NEED this.
Which you have probably already heard about, but in case it slipped up while you were napping, or on a trip to the moon, or working on your new on-line class... I call it to your attention now. Because it is delightful, and filled with good information for anyone who has ever dreamed of having a cutting garden.
Which I absolutely have, and this year actually did something about, in the sowing of cosmos and zinnia seeds.
So far I have learned about pinching back my zinnias to have longer stems, which I knew about marigolds but didn't about zinnias. The perfect book to look at before bed. It has me dreaming about gardens. Gardens without noxious weeds, where friendly cats roam.
While I was in Utah my garden grew. Cone-flowers, lemon balm, coreopsis, marigolds, and lavender make a mighty fine bouquet. Especially in a turquoise mason jar.
My poppy patch went to town. Seriously flamboyant this year.
Harvey came over and we visited for a whole morning. He had lots of questions about Utah and everything we had done while we were gone.
After we planted the tomatoes I made the last pansy bouquet for the year and the first marigold arrangement.
Coming home and getting back into my groove is as enjoyable to me as a good vacation. I am on a serious pink and fuchsia geranium kick which shows no signs of slowing down... and I see no reason to step on the brake.
Behold, the peonies from the farmers market in Lawrence this week. They are making my dining room smell like heaven. Yes, right now I am fairly certain that heaven is a field of peonies under blue skies with big puffy clouds.
And there might be a soft quilt spread in a strategic spot with a bit of shade, placed for resting and relaxing. There's plenty of time for that in my heaven. There may, or may not, also be a picnic basket with a jar of cool lemonade inside. You decide about that.
The iris, hostas, alium, japanese painted fern, dianthus, hydrangea, and fothergilla in my garden are all coming along swimmingly.
These lovely perennials that manage to survive year after year with little attention from me. All with a story to tell. The iris from mom's house in Arkansas, the hostas from Megan, the dianthus that continues to hang from the rock wall by a thread.
The hydrangea is starting year # 10 and survived the recent painting of the exterior of our house with just a few lost limbs.
Gardening is a most excellent pursuit for those of us with a strong fortitude, who have experienced enough from life to withstand the losses and appreciate the miracles. I like a hobby whose only prerequisite is steadfastness, something I happen to have a lot of. Most of the time anyway.
Seen on a random drive through Lawrence this week. It may, or may not, have been on earth day. This spring every single day feels like earth day to me.
When you schedule your trip to Lawrence this year, promise me you will take at least a whole afternoon to drive up and down the streets looking for sites like this. Sweet, old fashioned, pretty. And all for free. If you are lucky you will get to meet the gardeners like I did at the house in photo #1. I might have gushed too much over my love of their garden. But I don't think they minded. Not one bit.
We have made our first trip of the season to Pine's, one of my favorite gardening spots here in Lawrence. Is there is anything that rivals the beauty of a sea of brightly colored flowers? If there is, I don't know what it is.
This flowering cabbage put me in the mind of a Carmen Miranda hat. When I asked Chris to put it on his head for a photo, he wasn't having any of it. I apologize for his lack of enthusiasm for my plan.
Hanging baskets, foxglove, amaryllis. I was positively drunk on blooming flower love.
The peonies are coming along as you can see. It won't be long before there are buckets full at the market.
It's too early to plant some of these things, but there is no harm in looking now. Making plans, coordinating colors, dreaming. It's as good as planting.
I did get my seeds, which I intend to sow, right away. As in maybe this weekend.
I am considering taking a maternity leave while I work through the germination process with them. Maybe if I ask for incubation leave that would work?
Once upon a time I shared an office with my friend Barb. And Barb's mom, Ginger, would always call her in the Spring (and fall) when it was time to plant pansies. When Barb hung up the phone she would turn to me and say "Ginger say's it's time". And just like that, we knew it was safe to plant. Ginger was never wrong.
Barb's mom died earlier this month, so I have to try and figure this out on my own now. In her honor I will do my very best to carry on the tradition by alerting any of you who live in zone 6a (according to the Plant Hardiness Zone Map) when it is time. Which it is, right now.
Boy oh boy do I love that first trip of the spring to the gardening store. It is filled with so much possibility. Things you have been dreaming about and ideas for things you hadn't even conceived of. I'll just be here this weekend, rain or shine, raising my spade and gardening gloves to you, filled with BIG ideas, and always thinking back to the gardeners who have gone before me, thankful for all their lessons.
When you are buying your spring daffodils in the coming days it's important to remember to get some that are blooming now and some that will bloom in a few days. This means you will need to "root around" through all the bunches at the store which may cause the flower lady to ask if you are sure you don't need help. To which you will of course reply "no thank you".
Then you are going to want to look through all your containers at home and find the one that your adopted sister Jennifer gave you last year on your birthday filled with zinnias and adorned with a green gauzy bow that you also kept, knowing it would come in handy in the coming year.
If you have a green striped kitchen towel that you bought in Bergen, Norway and a couple of anemic strawberries to throw in the background for photos that's okay too. But feel free to pull out whatever vases, bows, towels, and fruits you want to. Any, and all ,will look good with a couple of bunches of daffodils.
I am pretty they are the universal flower. In other words, they go with anything.
And boy howdy, do they smell good!
Sunday, while on a mission to fill 7 bags of yard waste for the 6am Monday morning pick-up, I discovered the bare-root poppies that I planted last year, that never bloomed, have emerged!
While I was out there I did some serious whacking on the rose bush, that has a case of witches broom, but continues to produce lovely fragrant blooms, so I just keep cut off the bad parts and baby it along.
The red sunset maple is starting to do it's thing. A glorious thing.
The lavender decided to stick around for another season. It's been hard establishing a good lavender in my garden for some reason. I have had great plants in previous gardens. Fingers crossed for this one.
Last but not least are the garlic chives Nancy Walrafen gave me 10 years ago that faithfully return each and every year.
Now I am off to liberate the cat mint from the spiky dead growth of last year so the Harvey boys can get a fix, and maybe chop down a few ornamental grasses, if I am feeling energetic, and I can talk Chris into helping.
Just like that, gardening season has begun.
Today, while investigating what was coming up in the garden. I discovered that a garden gazing ball is a most excellent reflecting surface for a self portrait.
I am especially fond of the Popeye bicep effect created by the ripple in the glass.
The crocus, alium, and tulips poking through the grass signal that Spring is on the way. I am equal parts delighted and fatigued by that. It might have something to do with all those leaves needing to be attended to. That chore can wait though. Right now I have more experimenting to do with the camera and the gazing ball, who knows what other special effects I will discover.
Here is what my Euonymus alatus (burning bush) was doing the other day when we were outside sprucing up the yard.
We declared last Sunday the day for the annual picking up of the pods from the giant thorny locust tree in the yard behind us. To say they are plentiful would be an understatement. Jillions and jillions of pods.
Right about the time I got the 5th bucket dumped in the yard waste bag, I though to myself "hey, I could make a garland out of these". Garland making is a sickness. Everywhere I look I see things that could be incorporated into garlands. But I can put the brakes on when I need to.
During the un-potting of the black eyed susan vine there was a small catastrophe.
The big bird of the patio got decapitated. It's happened before. This time when he goes to surgery I think he will need stabilizing rods. He's about 12 years old and beyond the simple application of wood glue. I am prepared to get out the orthopedic texts and study up.
My beloved bougainvillea is done for the season. I did clip all of those last bits of color before dumping the root ball and covering the pot though.
I made a bouquet for the table out of it all. The flowers on the table and the burning bush right outside the window are having a competition to see who can be the most amazing in the fall sunlight. I am just on the sidelines enjoying the performances. And making a list of what I should do every hour between now and Thanksgiving day at 11am when the hike begins.
For the record, I am not complaining. But I am ready for just a smidge more fall crispness in the air.
As we speak, the reds and oranges are coming more from the still flowering bougainvillea, in pots on the back deck, than from the maple tree in the front yard. Some years are like that.
I'm going with the flow. Taking what I can get. Going back and forth between the heat and the air conditioning when the extremes on either side become too much. Alternating between wanting meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and lima beans for supper and a big salad with cucumbers, tomatoes, feta cheese, and black beans.
For the record I will still take pumpkin pie for dessert after either of those meals. I'm very late with making one yet this year. I intend to remedy that this week. Whether it's 48 or 76 degrees outside.
Last year, when we were in Oregon, we stopped at a garden in Lincoln City. The name escapes me at this exact moment and I am too lazy to go and look it up, but it was right in the middle of a neighborhood and it was absolutely lovely. They also had seed packets for sale from their specimens.
Even though I already had a nice crop of marigolds, I purchased some seeds from them and sprinkled them around this spring. Initially I wasn't sure about them because they didn't produce many flowers. But since October hit, they have taken off and really put on a great end of fall show.
I love how they are all different shades of orange, AND that they are so tall with very long stems.
Perfect for cutting a big bunch, bringing into the house, and setting on the table in the middle of the pumpkins.
Angie was a marigold lover, through and through. I like to think of her sitting on a chair in my back yard looking at these. For sure she would want to deadhead them and have seeds to pass around. Mary Ann and Dottie - I will be sending you both some of these for sure. Plant them in the early spring, in the sun, and be patient.
One of my very favorite things we did while exploring Stockholm, was wander through the allotment gardens. Tucked away in secret places, all over the city. They await discovery.
They are similar to what we call community gardens in the United States, but different. Most of them have a tiny house or cottage on the property and there is a long waiting list to get one of them. A walk through them and you will see why. Inga invited us in to see her plot as we were exploring the gardens of Eriksdalslunden. She told us they waited 9 years for their spot. She also picked grape tomatoes, warm from the sun, and gave them to us to taste.
We visited gardens in three different areas of Stockholm. At Tantolunden I met a lovely Swedish woman who was tending her flowers and nibbling the raspberries off her bushes as she moved around the plants. She was happy to tell me where to go to see more gardens, careful to tell me which route was best. Gardeners, the world over, are good people.
We passed by one that overlooked the water and the gardeners were sitting out at a little table enjoying the view and a glass of wine. Ahhh. Can you imagine?
Anna Lindhagen, a Swedish nurse (among other things), was instrumental in starting the allotment gardens in Sweden in 1906. I can not think of a greater legacy to leave.
Can you imagine anything nicer than a garden playhouse where you spend endless hours on summer days, surrounded by flowers? Dream. Come. True.
There was no trip to the market this weekend since I won't be here to eat a week's worth of produce. I settled for looking lovingly at my tomatoes. Including this one that will be ready for picking before I get back I am thinking. I hate to miss the first BLT of the season with our tomatoes but I will make do. In Stockholm. Eating something Swedish. And delicious.
I made a nice little arrangement for the table with my roses.
There is something very sweet about your own roses. In your mother-in-law's vase, on your mom's tablecloth, resting on the table that Great Aunt Alice refinished.
Then I added some basil.
Because the only thing that goes better with basil than tomatoes and fresh mozzarella, is roses.
All the dried poppy heads were cut down and brought inside in advance of the big rains we had recently. Taking great care, I might add, not to turn them upside down, to avoid all the seeds spilling out the top. I will take them outside later in the season and sprinkle them around, to increase next years crop. I left some of them out, uncut. The seeds from those will be easily dispersed by the wind.
Nine pictures might seem like a lot of images to take of the dried fruit of a flower. But seriously. They are so beautiful.
I fully intend to draw and paint some later this summer.
These are papaver semipervum also known as opium poppies. They are cultivated widely for a variety of purposes - medicinal use, for seeds which are edible, and of course for their beauty in the garden. I just bought a book about poppies. Can you tell from that last sentence that I just started reading it? It's full of information. For example did you know that opium is extracted from a latex substance produced in the fruit capsule? I didn't. Count on me to keep you up to date with anything equally fascinating I happen to come across in my reading.
Early in the morning, as the sun is going down, seen from above, or gazed upon from below, the purple coneflower is a gardeners delight.
They are drought tolerant, don't have to be deadheaded, are spread easily by the birds (but don't get overly invasive), and provide color in the hottest part of the summer.
Dottie I am going to remember to bring you some seed heads in October. YOU definitely need some of these to add to your garden.
Last year I bought a "supreme flamingo" echinacea that I moved at the end of the season to a new location. It is still struggling a bit. This year I bought a "salsa red" and an orange/red color that I can't remember the name of for the life of me.
The verdict is not in yet on any of these varieties. I don't think they will re-seed and spread like the tried and true purple coneflower. I have also noticed that the rabbits seem to like them better than the ordinary coneflower. Grrrr. I don't like to be mad at the rabbits. But sometimes I can't help it.
In between making spanish rice for supper, watering the plants out back, deciding what to wear to work tomorrow, and washing my face, I took some pictures of the poppies out front tonight. I love how they fade to this delicate shade of pink. And how when the leaves fall off the yellow part of the seed pod detaches and looks like a starfish on top. And how even when the petals have all fallen off, the pods themselves are decorative.
There is nothing I don't like about poppies. I am pretty sure I have written that sentence in a post at least once already this season. Indulge me. I remain drunk on poppy love.
Just a few of my favorite garden moments over the last few weeks.
I hope whatever you are doing today involves something you think is beautiful.
Just when I was about to doubt that I actually knew what poppy foliage looked like, when Chris was asking "what's that lettuce looking stuff supposed to be?", it finally happened. Confirmation.
Followed this weekend by blooms. Poppies are amazing. It makes me smile just to look at them.
An absolute wonder of nature.
Just in time, by the way, for what would have been Ray and Angie's 62nd wedding anniversary on June 5th. This is them in 1954 when they were still newlyweds.
Next year I will know not to get inpatient. I got the seeds from Jeanette several years ago. As per her instructions I have been shaking the dry pods around the area each year when I cut them down. My little poppy field is growing.
The "Snow Queen" Oak Leaf Hydrangea is putting on an exceptionally good show this year.
I planted it in September of 2005 right after we moved in. In eleven years it has definitely reached it's full potential.
The photo below is from the garden journal I kept at that time. The tag on the plant said it should get 4-5 feet tall and 5-6 feet wide. Done and done.
Friday night when we stepped out the front door the fragrance hit me for the first time this season.
It's the combination of the right amount of blooms, exposed for the proper number of hours in the warm (but not too hot) afternoon sun, and the presence of a gentle cross breeze that occurred right as we were coming outside to sip on a beverage and discuss weekend plans. I love it when circumstances conspire in my favor.
I am fairly certain that heaven is a big space filled with geraniums. Rows and rows of lovely geraniums with their faintly herbaceous fragrance that float around after you brush your hand over their velvety soft leaves.
All colors of geraniums. Reds and oranges and corals and oh the pinks. Lots and lots of pinks.
In garden heaven, all the angels wear head wraps and spend their time during the day pruning the plants ...
but at night they let their hair down and dance in the aisles of the greenhouses to Creedence Clearwater Revival songs.
Don't ask me how I know all this. I just do.
Sunday the tomato growing expert (Chris) and I headed to the greenhouse to select our specimens for this year.
For the record I would like to say that while I did get distracted by other things at the greenhouse, I did not stray from the mission. The mission to get the tomatoes planted between the rain showers. The mission that did not involve geraniums or cabbage.
I like looking at everything at the greenhouse. Teeny tiny germinating seeds are interesting. It's important whenever you are out to soak up information that could come in handy later. Like for example, when Chris builds me a greenhouse after he retires. Just a small one. Something to keep him busy and out of trouble. But I am straying from the mission.
We made our selection as we always do - on a whim - with little consideration. How can you go wrong with all these healthy looking plants? Then we headed for home, prepared the container according to instructions, unbound the roots, and placed our perfect specimens carefully into the dirt.
And now the fun begins. Watching. Waiting. Measuring growth. Checking for blossoms.
For inquiring minds - we selected a Jet Star this year in addition to the tried and true and very dependable Celebrity.
Things are happening so fast in the garden at this time of year, it's hard to keep track of it all.
These are all perennials that have done very well over the last 10 years. Some planted with care and forethought, others just because that's where there was an open spot.
These hosta's originally came from Megan, a friend who has long since moved to Wichita. I remember the day I went to her house and we dug them up from the spot where the gardener that lived there before Megan had planted them. I have since divided and given to friends as well.
That's the beauty of gardening. Passing things around. Seeing what works. Moving things that don't work. Accepting that there will be failures. Rejoicing in successes. Teaching your younger friends what you have learned.
Every year I try something new. This year it is the bare root poppies I planted in the fall. They foliage is coming up nicely but I see nary a sign of a bloom. Is it too early or should I not expect them to bloom the first year? I am hoping one of you will be able to pass your wisdom along to me.
Stock + Allium + Weigelia + more stock = one sweet smelling bouquet.
I carefully placed on the kitchen counter, all the stock flowers that fell off in transport. Each time I walked by, all day long, I could smell them. Pure heaven.
And so it begins. Local flower bouquet season is officially upon us.
Dianthus and columbine started blooming this weekend here in Lawrence.
Happily they play well together in this small blue bottle. Oh Sunday why can't you last just a few hours longer?
This year I decided to give the bougainvillea's as long of a growing season as possible. In other words, I have broken all my "wait until after the 1st of May to start the plants in pots outside" rules. Because these tropical, heat loving, beautifully vibrant plants have done so well on my back deck in the past, I decided I should have two instead of one this year. Allow me to introduce "Orange King".
He's a flashy show off but when you have to compete with the magenta red of a "Barbara Karst" bougainvillea, pulling out all the stops is the only way to get any attention.
I want you to see how little they are now so you will be able to fully appreciate how big they get over the course of a few months. I hope I didn't just jinx myself with all that bragging.
They have each been placed in their respective corners and the tomatoes will go in the middle. Expect regular progress reports. If you are looking for a drought tolerant plant that requires minimal care and provides maximum color throughout the summer (and way into the fall), give this a try.
If you have an old plastic bird, on a wire, whose wings have long ago been broken off, that used to belong to your mother, put it out there too. For good karma. I love old, well loved yard art. Almost as much as I love old, table linens. And that's a lot.
You know how some people wear "inside" shoes inside and outside shoes outside and never mix the two? Not me. I want to be able to be neat and tidy, and not track mud and gravel in the house, but I can't be bothered to go to the trouble. For the record, I do my best to wipe my feet before I come in the house. Most days.
I have the same philosophy for flowers as I do shoes. Inside and outside double duty. So if you are one of those people who never cut your iris and bring them inside, get after it. They are so pretty in a vase on the table.
They can be examined more closely and for longer periods of time when they are sitting on the table and you walk by them 15 times a day.
Same goes for grape hyacinths. I can smell them a whole lot better when the are right in front of the kitchen sink than I can when they are in the front garden.
Happy amazing Spring Saturday from Kansas where we are edging the flower beds, turning the mulch, and trying to pick a date to go see the Dutch Masters at the Nelson Atkins museum. All at the same time.
Since we didn't make it to the tulip fields in Holland this year, we made do with the Ted Ensley gardens at Lake Shawnee in Topeka. Only a 30 minute drive away and admission is $5 using the honor system. Pretty good deal.
Did I mention the lilacs were blooming and smelled heavenly? AND they had benches for resting?
The Amsterdam Tulip Museum remains on my list of places to see, in the meantime, I get my tulip fix any way I can.
Dogwoods are pretty in front of brick houses, windows with lace curtains, and lakes.
They photograph well in shade or sun and close up or from a distance.
I like them pink, or white, or pink and white.
The only piece of advice I will give you about pictures and dogwoods is this: if you decide to stop in front of a complete strangers house, wander onto their front lawn, and point and shoot in a way that could be misconstrued as snooping, AND the homeowner pulls into their driveway while you are doing this, be sure you have a good line to tell them and make sure you are very effusive in telling them how beautiful their tree is and how much you loved taking pictures of it and how you really hope they don't mind.
