Swirls of Sedum.
In a matter of warm days, the northern-growing Magnolia went from this. . .
. . . to this. So close!
Crocus make an appearance.
Bela Lugosi Daylilies greeting the sun.
Courtesy of http://geraldinebrooks.com
We all know we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover – but is it polite to judge it by its title?
Take, for example, Year of Wonders, by Pulitzer Prize-winning author Geraldine Brooks. On the surface, it seems like a pleasant name for a book – inspirational and awe-inspiring. It’s the haunting tagline under the title that seems a little unnerving: “A Novel of the Plague.”
Not exactly an uplifting subject – and yet, it was all that and more.
Based on true life events, this fictional account focuses on a small English village in which Plague has taken hold. Under the guidance of the local minister, the town quarantines itself – and through the eyes of Anna, we witness moments of horror and joy, life and death, infection and healing.
As Plague ravishes this small community, the reader witnesses Anna’s spiritual growth. As a woman who has faced monumental losses, she is able to face life one step at a time, to learn, to find her purpose as a healer and midwife, and to discover her voice – no small feat for a woman in 1666.
Through Brooks’ rich and eloquent prose, the reader is allowed to witness Anna’s p
One day, you’re on vacation in South Florida, gazing at the pattern of a banana leaf sunlit from behind (above) — and the next, you’re bundled up against the wind chill of Long Island. After arriving home, I went through some random Florida photos and then walked around the yard on Long Island to make a comparison. Can you guess which photos came from which zone?
One of my favorite Christmas carols is “In the Bleak Midwinter,” and my thought was to use it as the basis for a “Bloomin’ Update” post with photos of wintry scenes. But this winter hasn’t been so bleak. In fact, it feels more like mid-March than mid-winter. Perhaps a more appropriate title should be “In the Balmy Midwinter.”
Holly berries.
What’s up with Mother Nature? Has she forgotten to look at the calendar? It’s January, and she should be full of bitterness and coldness and frigid wickedness. Instead, it seems Mother Nature is having a bit of hot flash, teasing us with a taste of a spring fling.
That’s why I’m more inclined to envision Mother Nature as Scarlett O’Hara, flitting and flirting her way through the folks at a Twelve Oaks barbecue, while I am one of the admiring suitors gathered around her. My heart beats with every flutter of her eyelashes. My pulse races with each giggle of her southern feminine charm. The temptation is overwhelming. I so badly want to reach out and grab my rake to clean out the flower beds, to let my fingers sift through the soil, to plant seeds and to nurture them to full growth — and I want to do all of this without the protection of work gloves. I am hungry to be in the garden.
It’s time for me to open up and reveal something about myself. I must confess, now that I’m about to write out the words, I’m feeling a little self-concious. But there is no turning back now. Accept me or reject me, the choice is yours.
I never really knew this was an issue for me. I embraced my circumstances as something natural. It wasn’t until I read about it in a book that I wondered, “Am I really that different? Are there others out there who are like me?” So, I’ll take a deep breath and come out of the proverbial closet. I experience nature both ways. I am bi-zonal.
A few posts ago, I wrote about gardening as a natural surprise party and my belief that my plants actually get together and come up with creative ways to entertain me and, well, surprise me — popping up in places where they had not been planted, blooming in different colors than were purchased or planned. But if I had to pick one plant as the organizer of all this guerilla gardening, it would have to be Moss Rose, or as I love to say, Portulaca.
It’s actually a fun name to say, like Dahlia or Liriope. Pour-tchew-lack-uh. Sometimes I think it could be the name of a Native American guide leading early explorers westward or a wife of Caesar. Maybe it’s a resort, kind of like, “We’re taking a ride up to Lake Portulaca for the weekend.” Or maybe it’s the closest I come to referring to any of my plants by its proper Latin name.
No matter what it’s called, though, Portulaca has been very, very good to me.
I am a creature of habit, and Sunday morning is my time to go food shopping. I am the second person in the supermarket. Because I live in a bustling and over-crowded suburbanopolis, this 7:00 am ritual creates the illusion for me that I actually live in a small town. I get to visit with Sue the cashier, and Diana behind the deli counter. I also get to say good morning to the first shopper in the store.
But on this particular Sunday, the parking lot filled up early. All men. As they stumbled from their cars and walked slowly and stiffly to the doors, it looked like a scene from Morning of the Living Dead (if there was such a movie). This is Mother’s Day.
If your family is anything like mine, Mother’s Day is the unofficial start of planting season — at least that’s how it is here on Long Island. Every nursery and garden shop is packed with flats and bushes and shrubs and hanging baskets. And that idea led me to think about gardening and mothers. Continue reading
These are Cherry Splash Hybrid Impatiens (left). I started the seeds in February. Everything I’ve read indicates that impatiens seeds need light to germinate, so do not cover them with soil. Each time I’ve done that, the results have not been great. Two years ago, I began to cover the seeds lightly, and this appears to work much better for me. I think it helps to keep the seeds moist. In any event, it is always very exciting when plants bloom while in the greenhouse.
On the right is a group shot. On the left, the plants with the red blooms are Easy Wave Red Petunias. Moving upward are Gerbera Daisy Crush Mix, and Blanket Flower Arizona Red Shades.
Here we have a variety of geraniums: Orbit White and Horizon Red Ice. The grassy looking plants just below the geraniums are Gazania Daybreak Petticoat Mix. These were also planted in late February. Actually, I find growing geraniums by seed relatively easy and rewarding. The seeds are large enough to handle (as opposed to the impatiens seeds), and I usually get a nice return. When I begin the seeds, I plant about five of the seeds in a single pot. It’s also important to water from the bottom to keep the soil from compacting and allowing the roots ample space to grow. At this stage, the seedlings have been given their own space in which to grow.
These are various zinnia, cosmos, and sunflower seeds. These are the easy seeds, which can be planted where you’d like them to grow. I planted some of these outside already. I’m not sure, though, if the weather has still been too cool for successful germination, so I planted extra seeds in these flats — kind of an insurance policy. After they develop their first set of true leaves, I’ll move them into the garden. The seeds are: Zinnias Elegans Queen Red Lime, Zinnia’s Pastel Cutting Mix, Italian White Sunflower, and Cosmos Double Click Cranberries.
This is Coleus Carefree Mixture. Coleus is one of those plants that bring me back to childhood. I like the variety of colors. I like the texture of the leaves. I like being able to pinch them to encourage branching. And I really like the ease of propagation: clip, water, root, plant.
I purchased Caladium bulbs while on vacation in Florida. They’re a souvenir — a very colorful souvenir that will eventually be planted in very large pots that receive dappled sun.
Well, that’s the tour of the greenhouse and what’s growing inside. Here’s hoping to a season of sun, just enough rain, lots of blooms, and very few pests.
Everyone I know keeps asking me, “What are you growing in your greenhouse?” So for this post, I thought I’d try something different: less words and more pictures.
First, this is the greenhouse/potting shed. I started most of the seeds in February. This, of course, depends on the seeds. I will break up the planting schedule based on germination time, bloom time, and last frost date. See the Library page for my guidebooks. There is a space heater in there, as well as heat mats for the seedlings. I have hung plastic to keep the heat in the growing area; the other area is for storage of yard equipment. The best times are when it’s snowing outside, and I’m in the shed in 75 degrees. There is no running water, so I carry water in. Continue reading
Nitty Gritty Dirt Man 