There’s a lot happening in these early days of August, and here are some photos to prove it.
Gladioli Take The Stage:
I Canna Live Without You
- My favorite Canna of them all: red leaves and red flowers.
Summer
Moss Rose, By Any Other Name . . .
- Unplanned Portulaca crowds out the planned Geranium.
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.
Bloomin’ Update 5: Hot Colors & Cool Thoughts
- Hot colors in the heat dome.
The newscasters and weather forecasters are having a field day with the heat wave. They’re frying eggs on the pavement and baking cookies in cars and they have a new term, “heat dome,” to describe the blistering weather pattern. The urgency in their voices reminds me of “The Twilight Zone” episode where the Earth is moving closer to the sun. These are the same people, mind you, who whip up winter hysteria when snow is predicted. It seems that no matter what Mother Nature throws at us, she’ll never make everyone happy.
I must admit, though, I am enjoying the heat dome — or as I call it, summer. Yes, it’s hot, and yes, I’m spending lots of time quenching my thirsty plants. For lots of reasons — too many to get into here — I like the warmth. I like the casualness of the season. And I like the time spent in the garden, because the days of the heat dome are numbered.
In honor of this sentiment, I would like to share a few hot colors from around the yard, as well as a few cool thoughts to remind us of what was and what will come.
My reward for saving Canna corms each autumn.
The potting shed.
Bloomin’ Update 4: Surprise!
Generally speaking, I don’t like surprises. I tend to get embarrassed by the effort that people put forth, not to mention having to be the center of attention. As a kid, I would duck under the kitchen table when my family sang “Happy Birthday” to me — a moment my family will still remind me of no matter whose birthday it happens to be.
There are, though, only two surprises that I can take. The first is a Joe surprise, one where he plans out a day-long adventure. I am only told to be ready to leave by a certain time, and then off we go to our destination. I think Joe has as much fun giving me clues as I have trying to guess the destination.
The second surprise comes from my plants. I imagine them putting their colorful heads together and coming up with creative ways to entertain me and keep me on my toes.
A few posts ago about gardening quotes, I credited my friend and co-worker, Alisa, with this one: “Gardening is like a natural suprise party.” Although we laughed when she uttered this about 15 years ago, I catch myself saying it over and over, sometimes weekly, sometimes daily. It has become a mantra of sorts, something to keep me from stressing out when I spot something growing that I never planned.
If you would like to see a few pictures from this year’s surprise party, just click on the “Continue Reading” link.
Cicadas: The Sound Of Summer
Photo courtesy of http://www.entomology.umn.edu
It’s positively steamy outside. I’m watching the sprinkler water the zinnias on the far side of the pool, and completely drowning out the sound of running water is the non-stop, rapid-fire droning chirps of the Cicadas. Some might consider the sound a nuisance or torture, but I find the chirping can trigger memories and it sparks my imagination.
As a kid, we always incorrectly referred to these buzzers as locusts — but no matter what we called them, no sound reminds me more of the dog days of summer than the Cicada’s song. It’s like a sizzling sound effect, perfectly accentuating the sun’s rays scorching the garden. A never-ending sizzle, that forces me to stand as still as the hot, humid air. As one chorus whines to an end, another starts up, and so on and so on.
Bloomin’ Update 3: Welcome Home
We arrived home late last night, and the first thing I did today was to take a walk around the yard. Joe’s mom did an excellent job at keeping things alive during our brief heatwave. I cannot believe what popped while we were away for only a few days. I thought I would share my findings here.
This lacecap Hydrangea impresses me each year. First, because of the violet color. Second, because of the size of the flowers.
One of my favorite easy-to-grow-from-seed flowers: Cosmos. Please excuse the shriveled one -- it's been a hot couple of days.
I'm not sure of the name of this plant, and I'm not sure if it's a curse or a blessing. It's practically invasive, spreading by means of runners. The clumps of pink flowers, however, are sweetly smelling and perfume the air, especially at night.
This is my reward for saving this Geranium each year. I actually planted this from seed several years ago, and I cannot part with the hot color.
I decided to give Sunflowers another try. According to the seed packet, this is "Italian White." Does this look white to you? Is yellow the new white in Italy?
Meet Nelly Moser. I thought I lost this Clematis over the winter after a wind storm ripped the trellis out of the ground. I put the trellis back into the ground, and "Whoa, Nelly," she returned.
I planted Morning Glory seeds around the same trellis as Nelly Moser. This is a double flowering variety.
Normally, I stick with traditional red Geraniums. This year, I started white ones from seed, and I'm glad I did. Seeing them poolside reminds me of the colors of Santorini.
Campanula ready to burst open.
Please, humor me with another Hydrangea photo. This is just outside of the front door, and began as one those Easter gift plants that was forced to bloom too early.
Bloomin’ Update 2: Delightful Daylilies Dazzle Daily
A few years ago, I purchased Little Grapette. This one bloomed and it's clearly not a Little Grapette, but who cares?
A few years ago, I began to toy with daylilies — or rather, daylilies began to toy with me.
As a child, I remember seeing orange daylilies everywhere. Yard after yard was filled with their stalks and their orange gift at the end. After the bloom, it was nothing but blades of foliage. In my mind, they were ordinary.
About 17 years ago, I happened to be watching Martha Stewart’s original television show and on it, she profiled Sydney Eddison. My memory of that segment is of the two women — Martha
At last, Little Grapette makes an appearance.
towering above the older Ms. Eddison — walking through the guest’s daylily border. I believe the segment was timed quite nicely with a daylily spread in Martha’s magazine. I remember being stunned by the variety of color, heights, and bloom times. These were not your grandmother’s daylilies. I was sold. Continue reading
Celebrating The Good Old Summer Time
Aaaahhhh. The Summer Solstice. For me, it’s a reminder of just how little we are. Just think about it. As we go about our ordinary lives, our giant orb revolves and rotates in a celestial dance, rewarding northerners with the longest day and shortest night. (Of course, the pessimist in me says, “Great, now the days start to get shorter, the nights longer, and winter is just around the corner.” Quite a jump, I know.)
The Three Village Garden Club held their judged flower show at the Neighborhood House in Setauket, Long Island.
In any event, it’s no wonder that ancient Druids to modern-day beachgoers celebrate this day. That’s why I took up my friend Rachel’s invitation to attend a judged flower show, hosted by her Three Village Garden Club on Long Island and scheduled to coincide with the Summer Solstice.
Although I do consider myself a gardener, I am of the backyard variety. Garden club members, though, are a whole other breed of gardener. I mean, I like to garden, usually for myself and Joe. Garden club members take it to a competitive level, and the Three Village Garden Club is no exception. These gardeners know latin and common names, and they carefully drive their entries, each in small glass vases, to the competition. I get upset when my grocery bag with the milk falls over when I make a left turn — can you imagine if my hydrangea entry took a spill?
Nitty Gritty Dirt Man 