Moving last year was a wonderful decision. I love the yard, the trees, and the possibilities. A vegetable garden was planted and the cottage garden behind the house is in its infancy, but the too early spring and the too hot summer with too little rain heightens the challenges.
Watering every other day keeps plants moving along, but it's certainly not going to be a banner year.
Each day patrolling the garden for striped cucumber beetles and sap-sucking stink bugs requires a jar with a bit of gasoline in the bottom and using the lid to scrape the nasty pests into the jar.
Next year marigolds will play a bigger role in companion planting in an attempt to never use chemicals in the vegetable garden.
If there's an upside to drought conditions it's the lack of mosquitoes, but then not many folks want to sit outside when the thermometer reaches triple digits. How's the weather where you are? Too dry, too hot, or just right?
To all the good souls affected by the drought, fires, and dangerous storms that have been forcing many to live without power and evacuate their homes...my thoughts are with you.
I'm linking with Rural Thursday today. Mosey on over to A Rural Journal and see what's going on down country roads.
Where do I go from here?Lately, I’ve been on a journey wandering through my dreams and trying to figure out where I wish to linger and places it’s time to move on from.I admit…I love reading blogs.Yes, I relish reading the words of others along with sighing at the beauty others create, which leads me to wondering.In this year and a half waltz through the blogosphere I’ve discovered….
when words pour from me I am often lost in a world of my own making, but the words of others touch me in profound ways as these do.
All these very creative pursuits seem but a dream and a dance away and yet…
I’m confused by all this.I’m not sure which path to follow.I take in the breath-taking views of others and ponder how each one found their own room with so many to choose from.What made one person choose this and another that?Did it come slowly over time or was it always known?I question…where have I failed? Why am I still wandering?
I mentioned a toad abode in my Saturday post about the sunflowers blooming in my small in width, but very tall garden! Yes, my garden is probably taller than it is wide at the moment. The sunflowers have reached the eaves and working towards being eye to eye with the chimney. Getting back to the toad abode…Robin of Life in Robin's Nest fame inquired about how to make a toad abode, so just in case there are others wanting an answer to this question, here it is…how to make a toad abode.
Let me start by mentioning my fondness for toads in the garden. Not only do I think a garden lucky if a toad chooses to reside within it, but I believe it’s truly blessed to count among the inhabitants, the humble songster who sings for his supper, a toad. I have tales of toads from gardens past, but none of them came close to the joy I felt while grilling a marinated chicken breast or three. We spied him hopping along the side of the house, the yet-to-be whacked grass creating a cover. He liked to linger about the water spigot, but seemed to return to the side of the house where the garden is. One evening, with three lazy black cats lounging in the grass and three humans sipping on a cool beverage, the toad hopped across the patio. Mr. Noodle, his hunting prowess too often evident in the gifts he bestows upon us, was the first to spy the little green guy. With a leap he sprang into inquisitive mode at the same time the sleek, black body of Miss Adventure hunched down into a predatory stance, while Anime the beautiful fraidy cat, looked on feigning an aloof posture, but ever so curious. We jumped into protective mode, grabbing cats and putting them indoors before one grabbed the toad and sent it flying into the air, a toy to be pawed, chased, and bitten. That was that, a toad must have a place to hide from frisky, finagling felines and to get out of the sun.
The Frisky Finagling Felines
The next morning, the little man and I rummaged through the garage looking for the right size pot. With a hammer I carefully tapped at the lip of the pot until a crack formed. Pushing on the crack a bit, I thought I could make a small opening that would serve as a door. The pot refused to give, so I tapped on the pot again. That did it…it cracked all right and broke the bottom off. I’m still wondering how the bottom of the pot broke clean off. No matter, it still makes a perfectly fine toad abode it just has a bit more character.
We set the toad house against the side of the garage in the garden. Tall sunflowers now shade it and add a touch of whimsical ambiance. A clay pot saucer makes a nice little swimming pond for the toad, a place to hang out in the evening, invite a few friends over for dining alfresco on slugs and bugs and finish off the night with a song or two.
Now I know there are really nice toad abodes you can purchase, but there’s something just right about a toad calling a clay pot home. Do it correctly by first using an exacto knife or any super sharp knife to outline an entrance with as much pressure as possible without creating a crack. Tap gently using a hammer until the entrance is formed. It’s really as simple as that. If you’re feeling creative, you can decorate the humble home with all sorts of things from paint to moss to sticks and stones.
Just a quick reminder. If you want natural predators in your garden refrain from using insecticides, pesticides or any toxic chemicals that do away with the good as well as the bad. *Ribbit ribbit*
The sun rises in a haze of low hanging white across the fields of northwest Ohio. The crickets break out in song just as the cicadas end their happy announcement that August is here. In the garden, I’ve been waiting anxiously for the sunflowers to burst into bright yellow petals surrounding black-seeded centers and oh happy day, the grand opening has begun
I love how sunflowers follow the sun throughout the day welcoming the morning light with faces turned toward the east and ending the day with heads tipped to the west as the sun dips below the horizon.
Standing quietly in the garden as the sun fades, I can almost hear an audible sigh of goodbye that emanates from the tall golden lookouts.
The ornamental sunflowers that stand between 4 and 5 feet tall are blooming now. In my exuberance I’ve taken over a 100 photos of the only two that sprung from seeds planted in the spring.
Behind the ornamentals, thick stemmed giant sunflowers hold aloft large buds enveloped in a cloak of green.
When the time is right buds will burst into rays of sunny yellow to reveal black seeds and miniature blossoms that attract honeybees anxious to sip nectar and inadvertently rubbing against pollen until tiny saddle bags appear on the sides of legs. The bees tolerate a couple clicks of the camera, but then fly with a warning to, back off we’ve got work to do!
Finally, the large clay pot of teddy bear sunflowers shows buds developing. I’ll cut a few and put them in a container to brighten the walnut table in the dining room as soon as the shaggy heads smile up at me.
The ultimate sun worshipper, sunflowers never kneel, but stand tall honoring the source that brings them life with heads bowed in humble gratitude and in turn offer me so much joy that I would build a house of sunflowers, place a red chair in the center and live content.
"Bring me then the plant that points to those bright Lucidities swirling up from the earth,
And life itself exhaling that central breath!
Bring me the sunflower crazed with the love of light.”
~ Eugenio Montale
I'm not quite ready to don my autumn colors. There's still summer in the air! Check out the free header, August Seas.
Remember the lyrics from Joni Mitchell’s song, Big Yellow Taxi? One line went, “Don’t it always seem to go you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.” I would add to that line... and get it back again. That’s the way I’m feeling about the first green beans picked from the garden in my back yard.
A heaping bowl, more than enough to create a fresh side dish, was picked yesterday morning and served as at dinner last night. Oh how wonderful those beans tasted. I’d forgotten what a joy fresh-from-the-garden vegetables are.
Like a musical piece there are variations on the green bean theme. We’ll have the wasband’s grandmother’s green bean trio: onions and beans sizzling a melody in bacon grease with bacon crumbled on top just before serving. A lighter, fresher solo of steamed green beans with a bit of butter and a squeeze of lemon sing summer delish. Then there’s the symphony of green beans, onions, bell peppers, and tomatoes, all fresh and warm from the garden. Simply fry bacon and drain the crisp slices. Toss in the vegetables and stir with wild abandon until all are tender, but not mushy. Add the bacon before serving and voila!
I’m not worried about green beans overtaking dinner because we planted one row and the entire row did not germinate. I’m expecting enough to enjoy the fresh taste every few days until the vines are green-beaned out. Perhaps we’ll plant another row of green beans next year, but for now I’m perfectly satisfied getting to know the clean, bright taste of vegetables all over again.
Just in case I run out of ideas, would you share your favorite way to create a green bean masterpiece?
Wanna see more marvelous mosaics? Check out Little Red House
And there will be rain and rumors of rain with wind skittering across the landscape in a whirling dance dodging the bolting light shows that strike the earth as thunder claps an encore. The air, heavy with humidity, bears down and once chirping birds now roost in silence on twiggy nests. Like the winged creatures, I feel it too, the breathless waiting knowing that something is on the horizon.
My newly sprouting garden with seeds popping beneath a thin blanket, await the coming shower, ready to wick the life-giving moisture from its earthly walls. For the sake of my little garden, I welcome the rain foreshadowed by low-hanging clouds, hazy and gray in the sky.
I only have one request I most humbly ask of Mother Nature…let it rain today and quench the thirsts of gardens and plants everywhere, but please, tomorrow may we picnic in sunshine?
Linda from Vulture Peak Muse left the comment, “not sure I would have liked that,” referring to the previous post, You Simply must Plant a Garden. I didn’t like it, but I guess a bride too young needs loads of advice. I had no problems taking suggestions from my mom, the woman I most admire, but taking advice from the mother-in-law just didn’t sit well. Anyhow, since the rain has delayed my garden making, there’s time for another story about Ruth, the mother-in-law I learned to respect and love.
My mother-in-law, Ruth, was a great inspiration. She was brilliant in so many ways, but she was also feisty, strong, and bull headed. One day she stopped by to help me in the garden. We were both trying to find our way from separate paths to one in which we could walk side-by-side as grown women, respectful of each other in our new roles as the mother of a grown son and that grown son’s wife.
Since we lived just down the road in the other family farmhouse, Ruth would stop by unannounced. I heard gravel crunching in the winding lane, looked out a window and saw her driving in. I waited until she knocked to go outdoors.
“Let’s clean up that garden,” she said. With a chip the size of the red barn weighing me down, I drug myself to the garden, hoe in hand. That day we toiled together, pulling weeds that I’d, once again, let get out of hand. As we worked, the sticky moisture from stems joined with sweat making my hands slippery. I yanked and pulled, tossing the flagrant interlopers to the side of the garden, more than a little angry that I had to pull weeds in the first place. After all, I didn’t ASK for a garden, it was just kind of thrust upon me.
Ruth was a talker. She loved to regale listeners with long stories and most of her tales kept me fascinated. As she talked we continued working and my anger began to subside. I grabbed a long stalk and pulled… the tap roots were so long that after tugging and pulling with all my might the obtuse weed refused to come out of its earthy home. I took my frustration out on that weed whacking the top off with the hoe and then grabbing it at the base as sweat dripped down my arms and on to my hands. I gave it one last long heave. The damn weed let go with a sudden release that startled me and sent me flying backward.
“SHIT!” I yelled out as my butt hit the ground.
Ruth stopped working, leaned on her hoe, and said in a very serious tone, “I would not hold in my hand, what you just had in your mouth.”
I stared at the ground between my legs as my ire rose in tandem with a reddening face. I murmured an embarrassed apology, but what I wanted to do was scream at her. Inside my stomach twisted as my hands clenched into tight angry fists. How dare she invite herself to weed my garden, tell me what to do and then reprimand me? Just as I was about to open my mouth and insert hoof, she broke into laughter.
“That’s exactly what my mother-in-law told me the first time she heard me utter the same word in the same way.”
I got up, brushed my bottom off, laughed and saw a woman not so much different than my mother or me. It’s a hard row to hoe finding that common ground between the woman who raised the boy and the woman who married the man. Ruth and I continued to have our ups and downs, but that day was a breaking point for both of us. I began to see her as more than just my mother-in-law. I saw her as a strong, independent woman with passions, yearnings, and realities who deserved my respect and my love. I never would have dreamt that a four-letter, fertilizer word would be the catalyst to a treasured friendship.
Kiki, at Awake with Charm & Spirit, created a vibrant post, The Color Essence of Blues, in both words and photos that told her story of blue. She invited others to post their story of blue, too. So here is my photo story of blue, a color that inspires joy, harkens to sorrow, and yet calms the soul.
Navy, periwinkle, skye, baby, robin egg blue…blue emanates from above, below and in the very center of my being. Down a country road on an early evening in June, a golden wheat field capped with heavenly blue whispers in a subtle breeze. “A wondrous, woven magic in bits of blue and gold.” ~Carole King Tapestry
Larger than life, Munchkin land vibrant flowers grow in a small circular bed in Van Wert, Ohio. The blue metal art flowers come from the imagination of Robbie Adams of the Van Wert Street Artists. “Blue oblivion, largely lit, smiled and smiled at me.” ~William R. Benet
One afternoon, I sped past a road heading for my sister’s home. Out of the corner of my eye I spied two long borders of blue stretching down each side of a back road. I didn’t have time to stop, but I vowed I’d return in a few days to take some photos of the blue drift. On an early Sunday morning, I returned. “I cannot decide, but this I know…it is some blue flower.” ~Alice Morse Earle
Chicory is the color of blue I want in my next garden. A powerful, electric blue as a bud that softens with age. “Blue thou art, intensely blue; Flower whence came thy dazzling hue?” ~James Montgomery
In humble attitude I walked Woodlawn Cemetery on an Indian summer Sunday in November snapping photos of angelic statues, scenic hills, and autumn color. Amidst the stories of the past a chapel rises with a blue window that captured the light. “Oh! darkly, deeply beautiful blue. As someone somewhere sings about the sky.” ~Lord Byron
Blue is a color, a place, a music genre, and a feeling. Just a few months ago I captured my grandson sitting on his skateboard, his posture emphasizing his earlier words, “Mimi..I’m lonely.” For a moment he was little boy blue breaking my heart and in the pass of the sun from beneath a cloud, he hopped on his board and performed an ollie.
“When ever I feel blue, I start breathing again.” ~L. Frank Baum
The painting on the wall speaks to me of simplicity in blue. A street café, washing on the line, and winding streets that wander through unknown towns and cities. The Doug Fiely painting belongs to my daughter. “Reeling—through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue.” ~Emily Dickinson
A pot of lobelia hung in the frame of an arbor in Bryan, Ohio’s Central Park made me smile. Lobelia has long been a favorite flower for planting in the shade, along with a myriad of other annuals that create overflowing planters and beds. The important thing is to know this flower, look at its color until the blueness becomes as real as a keynote of music.” ~Sally Carrighar
Outside, over there stands a blue spruce. I look out at it every day as I dream of other places, other times, and of him” “And blue so far above us comes so high, It only gives our wishes for blue a whet.” ~Robert Frost
For five years every Craigville Beach sunset on Cape Cod that I witnessed became a gift. For who knew that time in my paradise would draw to a close and the world of blue ocean become something new. “And the day climbs down from its blue-loft bed on a slanting ladder of sunbeams, pauses a moment between the trees, airy-light young.” ~Hans Borli
Please take time to check out Awake with Charm & Spirit. While you're there you'll find links to more blogs that embrace the story of blue in the comment section.
I love the tall spires of sky blue delphinium that create a soft background to lower growing plants. I can’t imagine not being able to grow them along a fence or in a flower garden. The impact of climate change on gardening may mean that delphiniums will no longer be a viable choice for my garden. Climate is changing and with it what can be grown in a specific area changes. Gardeners are well aware of their zone and what is feasible to grow within that area. Gardening in the desert 10b zone seems light years away from gardening in northwest Ohio, designated as part of zone 5b, but it’s changing and even the USDA can’t seem to grasp the fact that hardiness zones need to catch up to the increasing temperature of the Earth. So going forward you may want to start being more aware of what grows well and what does not, take notes, and adjust your planting.
What’s Going On? Take a look at what climate change is doing to Ohio. According to the report, Economic Impact of Climate Change on Ohio, released in July 2008 by the Center for Integrative Environmental Research at the University of Maryland, the temperature in Ohio has risen over the last 100 years by 1.3 degrees F; precipitation has increased by 10% in the north and decreased by the same number in southern Ohio. The water level of Lake Erie has dropped 3.5 feet. “These trends are predicted to worsen if climate change progresses unchecked.”
The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly As a gardener perhaps you’re jubilant that your zone will change from a 5 to a 6 giving you a longer growing season for your passion. Well, that’s not so bad, but what else happens?
Within every garden lie the good and the evil. I’m talking about pests. The change in climate doesn’t just affect your flowers and vegetables; it also affects the critters that munch on your prize roses and blue ribbon tomatoes. A longer period of warmth gives the munching, crunching invasive bugs more time for eating through the garden.
Invasive weeds that never knew Ohio soil may advance from the south and into your garden with gleeful exuberance at the expanding territory much to your exasperation and exhaustion.
Combat Climate Change What can you do to make a difference? The first step is become informed and educated and then put what you learn into sound gardening practices. Start by following the recommended “green” garden changes:
Cut down on gas powered garden tools
Reduce the use of water by collecting water in barrels
Choose plants wisely; look for drought and heat resistant plants suitable for your area
Compost instead of tossing garbage and leaves into plastic bags
Live locavore, in other words plant a vegetable garden or buy locally grown vegetables and fruits
Hang clothes on a line outside in the summer, you will be rewarded in oh so many ways
Resist the urge to use chemicals in the garden; instead opt for natural remedies
Still not sure you believe all this nonsense about climate change? Think about this for a minute…we’re proud to be called Buckeyes, but what will we be called when the Buckeye state no longer can grow buckeye trees? Climate change will force us to change as gardeners, but it may also change our identity as residents of Ohio. I don’t know about you, but I’m proud to say I’m a Buckeye gardener. Take some time to read blogs from around the world that offer different perspectives on climate change through Blog Action Day.
I am in love. Last night I feasted on cabbage rolls and fresh-out-of-the-oven Hungarian crusty bread with Paul. While we waited for the rolls to finish cooking, Paul sliced a Brandywine tomato. I took my first bite of the funky shaped, pink tomato. The flavor burst on my tongue, lingering with a satisfying tingle. Never in my life have I tasted a tomato that can only be described as vibrant. Eating tomatoes will never be the same, for I have tasted as close to tomato perfection as possible…at least for now. I am happy to report that my container grown Brandywine sports a faint blush of pink on the cheek. Renewed hope, that I too will have the delectable tomato just outside my door, brings delight to my gardener heart.
I suppose it’s too late now to research the heirloom tomato, Brandywine, but what the heck…I did it anyhow. This spring I planted one Brandywine tomato in a container that sits in full sun on my patio. As I wait for my first ripe bite, I’ve become curious about the variety and I’m hoping the fruit of the vine holds up to the stellar reports that precede it. I'm having my doubts as I dream of biting into a luscious pink tomato. My first clue that maybe Brandywine’s would be less then pure should have come when every nursery and garden center started selling Brandywine plants. Come to find out…it’s become such a popular tomato variety that there’s reason to believe that seed saving and sharing has developed sub-strains of Brandywines that may be less flavorful. Well…that’s what I get for waiting too long.
I started reading about heirloom seeds many years ago, but never took the next step, purchasing seed from the Seed Savers Program. When I lived on a farm with acres of tillable garden space, I was too busy raising herbs, flowers, vegetables and kids to delve into heirloom seeds. The PC and its quick research tools were in the future, so I read about heirloom seeds in garden magazines. The photos of black, pink, and orange tomatoes delighted my sense of color and I imagined tomato juice in deep, dark purple, whole pink tomatoes canned and standing on the shelf in the cellar, and slices of orange tomatoes for sandwiches and eating out of hand coming from my rainbow tomato garden. Fast-forward a few hundred years (just kidding) and I have my first heirloom tomato, only to learn that it may not be the true, authentic, one and only Brandywine. Insert bosom heaving sigh here. My plant in a pot doesn’t look as good as my brother’s. His stands 8 feet tall, covered in green tomatoes getting bigger by the day. In comparison, my plant has about nine tomatoes developing. If I get nine tomatoes off that plant that taste as good as the marching band that goes before claims, I’ll be as happy as a plump, bursting with flavor, pink tomato on a healthy vine in August.
I discovered while researching the history of the Brandywine tomato that Seed Savers acquired the heirloom seed from a fellow in Ohio…Ben Quisenberry Mr. Quisenberry, now deceased, received seeds from Doris Sudduth Hill of Tennessee who claimed the seeds had been in her family for over 80 years. Sometime in the future I’ll do more research on Mr. Quisenberry and his Big Tomato Garden in Syracuse, Ohio. If you’d like in-depth history of the Brandywine tomato, check out Craig LeHoullier’s article on the Victory Seed Company’s website.
Lately, I feel like Linus in the pumpkin patch waiting for the Great Pumpkin to make his appearance with one difference, I’m dreaming in pink and waiting for my Brandywine tomatoes to turn red… I mean pink.
Quick Update: Paul's Brandywines are turning pink.... mine are still
Forget the sunblock, no need to grab sunglasses, and leave the hat on the shelf. You won’t need five bucks and the camera can stay put, ready for another Kodak moment. All you need to do is sit back and enjoy Garden Walk 2009 in and around Van Wert, Ohio because I went…I saw….I photographed….and the sweat poured out.…just for you.
Sunday, August 9th, my sister and I headed out on the hottest day of the summer thus far for Van Wert. We took a back road that ended up being the wrong road, but we finally made it to our first sunflower stop.
Larry & Emily Riley
We didn’t go in order. We simply stopped at the first house we could find and that happened to be the home and gardens of Larry & Emily Riley in Van Wert. The three words that describe the landscaping and gardens are…whimsical, innovative, and charming. An iron fence surrounds the back yard that holds a plethora of flowers in a mass of colors, shapes, and textures. The items used to accent and hold plants bring smiles to even the reddest-from-heat faces. Naming the vignettes proved to be almost as much fun as viewing and photographing the flowerbeds…and yes one area takes “bed” quite literally. An old wringer washer rests against a white building bearing plants instead of wet clothing; a washboard juts out, as an accent, from a cascading plant that touches a hosta leaf below with a friendly hello. Wall art, reminiscent of a quilt, became a background that drew the eye upward. I bestowed the title, floral washday, on the outdoor vignette.
The Rileys put antique, yard sale, flea market, or attic finds to new and unique uses. The basket on an old bicycle spills over with a charming arrangement of annuals. A watering can, that gave its bottom for the cause years back, was placed permanently in a pouring position with a lush of plants and flowers all around it. A silly toad spewed water into a tiny pond adding the serenity of water. Emily created an eye-catching display using hostas and begonias around five tea cups perched on table legs painted in red, blue, orange, peach, and lavender using floral sticky clay to hold the components.
From the welcoming front door to a peek through an open door in the backyard, the Rileys have created beguiling garden scenes and relaxing spaces within a small yard that screams personality.
Robbie & Madison Adams A drive down a tree-lined street in Van Wert took us to the home of Rob & Madison Adams. An elegant entrance with large containers framing the hosta lined walk to the door greeted visitors. A short walk into the yard led us to striking metal art. Rob designs landscapes and incorporates his iron works with stunning appeal. The bright flowers captured my eye and the glint of the sun gave the sculpture and surrounding plants a surreal element. In the back yard, plantings and art harmonize forming an outdoor living space that soothes the soul, even on a hot day in August. Rob’s father began creating metal sculptures and wall hangings in his free time from being a physician. Rob and his sister, Beth, leaned the art through the guidance of their father. Rob’s wife, Madison, is also an artist with Street Artists, located in Van Wert. Check out their website and be sure to take a look at the gallery. My favorite piece in Rob and Madison’s yard was a wall hanging of the sun gazing in timeless mystery over the yard from near the back door.
Rob & Leslie Moser After a quick bite to eat, we were back on the road heading out of Van Wert proper. We came upon Rob and Leslie Moser’s home and, of course, had to stop. One of the master gardeners at the residence, told us that the aim of the previous owners, Brent & Kris Tow, was to create an easy maintenance landscape and oh, how they achieved their goal. The natural setting for the log home fits like a bird in a nest. Blue and green container plantings, along with a wooden rocking chair, set the porch off drawing attention to the entry. A curving stonewall surrounds the back of the home with a woods off to the side and a pond in the front. Roses, pink hydrangeas, heucheras (coral bells), and impatiens stand their ground next to fountain grass and spruce trees.
The landscaping may be low-maintenance, but the owners also attained a balance of natural, serene, and lovely.
Roman & Kylee Baumle The last stop of the day happened in Paulding County at the home and gardens of Roman and Kylee Baumle. Surprising, jubilant, and lush offer an overall description of the gardens. Around every corner inspiration lurked ready to leap into my brain and be stored for a future gardening project.
From a tree that holds a tiny secret door with a fairy watching close-by to a stand of sunflowers emulating the bright sun overhead, the gardens danced as mirages in the heat. The vegetable vignette complete with sweet corn and a bib-wearing scare crow added humor to the gardens and flowerbeds. Roses, growing along side the fence, stately lilies, and a triangular bed with a colorful sign directing visitors this way and that brought elegance and character to their respective corners. Fountains soothed the soul and eased the sweating brow. A freestanding background of lattice provided space for a climber and sumptuous foliage plants. A shabby chic chandelier became a pot holder hung from an overhead arbor that shaded the patio. In the corner, a growing vine hid necessary pipes and wires that every homeowner must deal with. Birdhouses, hummingbird feeders, baubles and rocks added decorative layers among foliage, flowers, and plants.
The heat of the day and a late start ended the tour early. We missed viewing the gardens of Carolyn Girod, Ray & Mary Young, and Dave & Janet Myers. I just know I missed spectacular gardens and novel approaches to growing vegetables and flowers. My admiration goes out to the Van Wert Master Gardeners who organized such a fine event, even when the weather decided not to cooperate. To the garden lovers who willingly put their “growing babies” out into the world… you are my heroes.
Still hungry for more? Don’t forget to take a look at the slide show. Just follow the link under Slideshows on Flickr. Also, Kylee Baumle's blog, Our Little Acre gives you a guided tour of her yard and gardens. You’ll find loads of inspiration, bountiful ideas from quirky to quaint, and a relaxing tour of the Garden Walk 2009 in Van Wert, Ohio.
I happened to be looking up gardening information on the gardenmediagroup.com when I heard some sad news…at least sad to me is the news that another all time favorite source for gardening tools and so much more, the retail store and mail order company Smith & Hawken is going out of business.
I ordered my first herb plants from Smith & Hawken more than 20 years ago. I spent hours pouring over the catalog and dreaming about trellises, hayrack window boxes overflowing with ivies and colorful annuals, and all sorts of tools. The tools that Smith & Hawken carried inspired me to search for similar ones to carry in my shop, Windy Corner herbs & flowers. The search took me to a wholesaler that offered English made trowels, hand held diggers, hoes, and more. In my mind, Smith & Hawken were the cutting edge of all that was right and classy in the world of retail gardening supplies. I’m going to miss insomnia nights perusing the online store and dreaming of gardens filled with gorgeous purchases from Smith & Hawken.
On Saturday Manda, Redding, and I took a trip to Angola. On the way home, I noticed a sign that read, Perennials for Sale. We flew by what looked like a lovely garden, but I knew I’d return to satisfy my curiosity in a few days. Tuesday, after an amazing burger at Club Paradise near Lake James, my sister Nancy and I stopped in to check out the flowery landscape and the perennials for sale.
Shortly upon arriving at Pigeon River Gardens, we met the owner, Sharon Gerig. A retired schoolteacher, Sharon turned a passion for gardening into a business selling ornamental grasses and perennials. Even as a work in progress, the gardens and landscaping show how much work she puts into her business. Well-maintained gardens, overflowing flower beds, and lush plants invite visitors to purchase and take pleasure in walking about the Pigeon River Gardens.
From the white wrought iron arbor that beckons visitors into the garden to the gurgle of water tickling over rocks, charm is everywhere. Tables, overflowing with plants, entice buyers. Two heucheras (coral bells) caught my eye. The ‘Georgia Peach’ heuchera represented the name well with soft, ripe shades of pink-orange foliage. The deep color of purple graced the foliage of another coral bell variety. Plant the two colors in a clump of three or five for a striking contrast in the garden.
A few of my favorite cottage garden plants are available for purchase. Day lilies (hemerocallis), sedums, bell flowers (campanula), bleeding heart (dicentra), phlox, silver mound (artemisia), iris, and cottage pinks (dianthus) are just a few of the perennials for sale. Varieties of ornamental grasses are also available.
I purchased a bleeding heart, but I can’t get mind off the Georgia Peach heuchera, which means another trip to Pigeon River Gardens. Go ahead, take a ride on US Hwy 20, you’ll find Sharon ready to answer questions and share her gardening experiences and knowledge with a smile.
Pigeon River Gardens *ornamental grasses *perennial flowers Hours: Noon-6 pm Tuesday – Saturday Or call: 260-624-2041
You can find Sharon Gerig’s Pigeon River Gardens 3 miles east of the circle on US Hwy 20 Angola, Indiana.
It’s June 1 all ready! Pots are planted with a variety of herbs, vegetables, and a basket filled with flowers on the front step. I’m doing a bit of a trial to see if the basket on the front step does as well as the pots in the backyard with shards of terra cotta in the bottom. I’ll be looking into the shards versus no shards a bit more this week.
Living Bouquets I call containers filled with a variety of flowers, living bouquets. I started by lining the basket with a gray plastic bag and poked holes in it. Next, I filled the container with soil and planted the packs of flowers. The little front porch is in the shade for the bigger part of a day, so I used plants that prefer shade. Double impatiens, lobelia, and dusty miller fill the twig basket, left over from my shop, Windy Corner herbs & flowers.
Two medium sized pots of Johnny jump-ups, still blooming, sitting nearby the basket create a garden vignette. As summer wears on, heating up, the Johnny jump-ups will fade and cast seed to the winds. Hopefully some will fall into the front flowerbed.
*Planting Tip As much as you may hate it, when bringing home packs of flower seedlings, remove all blosssoms and buds. A healthy plant that puts its energy into growth first will display a plethora of beautiful blooms later.
Columbine (Aquilegia) The columbine that I first saw growing in front of the step has reseeded in the flowerbed with many new plants growing this year. Considered a perennial, columbine bloom in a glorious spectrum of colors in late spring from a deep purple to a pale pink. Festive bi-colored columbines add surprising splashes of colors to flowerbeds and gardens. Hardy plants from zones 3 to 9, the little lovelies do not make good choices for container gardens due to a long taproot. Plan on watering columbines during the warm, dry months to keep them happily thriving.
Deadheading or removing spent flowers extends the season a bit, but leave a few flowers to form seed heads. The plant will reward you by dropping seed and starting up new plants next year. If you don’t want more columbine gracing your flowerbed, simply remove all spent flowers.
Dainty columbine flowers look especially attractive in flowerbeds, but plant in a large cluster for a show of color and textures. A rock garden is another good location for columbine. Hummingbirds visit columbine in search of nectar as do butterflies, so placing it in a garden for wildlife or a butterfly garden invites winged creatures in spring.
Columbine Legend & Lore Why columbine has been called granny’s bonnet in earlier times is unclear, but perhaps it’s because the flower, always peering at the ground like an old woman beneath her bonnet, trembles at the slightest whisper of a breeze. In the language of flowers, the 1833 meaning was desertion and a few years later, inconstancy, but yet another meaning, cuckoldry, brings mystery to the plant. When and why columbine came to be known as a naughty rendezvous is uncertain.
According to an article published June 20, 1903 in the New York Times’ archive, once upon a time columbine was called cocksfoot or culverwort. A quote by Erasmus Darwin from the article said, “In the columbine, the necktary is imagined to be like the neck and body of a bird, and the two petals standing upon each side to represent wings; whence its name of columbine, as it resembles a nest of young pigeons fluttering while their parents feed them.” I’ll have to take a closer look of the columbine blooming to discover if I see what Mr. Darwin saw.
The botanical name, aquilegia, means eagle probably referring to the spurs, but the common name, columbine comes for the Latin word, columba or dove. The state of Colorado claims the Rocky Mountain columbine as its state flower.
The beauty of columbine and the history of the plant make it a worthy plant to include in your garden. The ease of growing and self-sowing add two more excellent reasons for starting columbine in your garden.
As I meandered across the internet searching for information on…I can’t remember what anymore, I bumped into a blog called Garden Rant via the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. My initial reaction was who the hell do these four women think they are bringing snark into my peaceful garden world. Sure, I’ve argued that growing flowers is just as important as growing vegetables and I’ve written a fair share of flimsy, nothing new garden articles for websites, but hard work begets romance in my garden world and I like it that way. So after reading a few rants I wrote a rant of my own tossing in snark here and there to grow a point. Like all angry, emotional writers, I tossed the missive into the closest compost heap aka the delete key.
Somewhere between checking out each ranters bio and reading a few posts, I came across a blurb about the nonsense of using broken pots in container gardening. Besides what I initially viewed as garden snark, I felt personally affronted that anyone thought my mother’s method of growing was a myth or nonsensical. I learned to garden from my mother who SUCCESSFULLY grew myriads of houseplants all in containers with shards of clay pots in the bottom and from my mother-in-law. Together those two important women in my life made up 40 plus years of gardening experience growing vegetables, roses, herbs, and a plethora of flowers.
After I simmered down, I went back to the Garden Rant and read more. Now that the shock that my mom might have been doing something wrong wore off, I could rate the blog with a less emotional view. Yes, I’m eating humble pie…I liked it. I like the edgy writing and I especially like the groups dislike of too pretty, too fast HGTV gardening bunk. I don’t watch gardening shows on TV. I would add one more dislike when it comes to garden TV and glossy magazines…most of the ideas are too expensive for the tight budgets a good share of Americans are on in the current economy.
We all want something new, but I also delve into the gardens of the past through garden writers like Rosetta E. Clarkson, Gertrude Jekyll, and Henry Beston. I see romance in a flower garden where someone else sees solitude, drama, or whatever. That’s the grand part of gardening….it is whatever you want it to be with hard work. Read the everything’s comin’ up roses blogs, read the poison ivy sting of blogs like Garden Rant, read the facts and check out the legend and lore, but in the end take what you will and make it your own.
Now get out there and read a few garden blogs on a rainy day!
PS I’m doing a little research on my own to discover if placing broken pieces of clay pots or stones in the bottom of containers is indeed necessary. I’ll get back with you on that one.
As every gardener knows, a garden is never finished. Something always needs planted, transplanted, or replanted. My dream garden would be an herb garden in the center and the beds surrounding the herbs chock-full of perennial and annual flowers along with herbs. The profusion of flowers and herbs spilling into paths, scenting the garden, and pulling visitors into an enchanted of world of foral romance. My beds along the edge of the garden would be in the style of the English cottage garden.
After measuring and marking the complete garden, finally, my picket fence was installed, albeit little by little. Once we had one side and the two ends of the fence completed, we built the beds, added top soil, and began planting. The plan was to have two garden gates, one facing the direction of the house, the second facing the yard to the north. Acorn finials would top each post to add a finish to the picket fence.
I started planting at the west garden gate. I can’t remember exactly what I planted first, but one of the first things was a pink climbing David Austin rose. I wanted the rose to twine about the fence with pink roses peeking through the pickets. To the immediate side of the rose I planted fountain delphiniums in sky blue. I love the combination of clear pink and sky blue. Coming forward were hardy geraniums or crane’s bill, Johnson’s blue being one of my favorites. Lavender edged the path creating a fragrant walk each time an ankle brushed against the foliage. Russian sage, lamb’s ear, monarda in pink, yarrow, lady’s mantle, globe thistle, and baby’s breath were all in the long bed.
The bed starting on the other side of the garden entrance held day lilies in pale yellow and pink. Victorian salvia, annuals and more herbs.
The end facing south would eventually become home to an arbor with a seat, at least that was my hope. Space enough for the arbor was created in the center of the end by laying down black plastic and covering it with pea gravel. Either side of the future arbor became home to true lilies or lilium. Stargazers emitted so much fragrance that it became overpowering at times.
I fell in love with a luscious pink peony and a foxglove I read about in the book, Tasha Tudor’s Garden, but I didn’t find the name of the peony until I picked up the book,English Cottage Gardening for American Gardeners by Margaret Hensel. Once I found the name of the peony, ‘Sarah Bernhardt’ I had to find someone who sold it. I called nurseries and asked around. Finally, I found it at a nursery in Hillsdale, Michigan, called Gleis. The strawberry foxglove I found at Greenfield Herbs in Shipshewana, Indiana, one of the best herb & flower shops ever. Unfortunately, the owner sold Greenfield Herbs and although I’ve not been there, from the online description, I gather it’s changed a great deal.
Fall plantings of tulips and daffodils presented color in early spring. I was always on the look out for pink tulips with my favorite being ‘angelique.’ I transplanted from other flowerbeds into the new one. Snowdrops, from a large cluster in an old flowerbed near the pasture, were transplanted to the new garden. Digging and separating iris, daffodils, and other perennials cut down the cost of the garden.
Keep in mind that I usually purchased three of any one variety of plant in the same color to create a splash. Whether it’s a tall spire like a delphinium or a tiny violet, planting only one per color seldom creates much of a statement. Each variety of plant should not get lost in the riot of color, texture and pattern that is a cottage garden, but harmonize with each other displaying your personal gardening flair.
My dream garden was finally taking shape and I loved it. Next, came a fairy garden and that is a tale for another day.
Now get out there and make your garden dreams come true!
Gardeners embrace change like a caterpillar morphing from homely worm into beautiful butterfly. Next year’s garden will be bigger, better, more beautiful, and more bountiful. Instead of planting one row of peas, two rows will be even better. Add a bed here, a new garden there. Dig out what doesn’t work and try a new variety. Nature continuously changes and gardeners follow suit. I was no different. My simple garden might have needed sprucing up, but I needed something totally new. I spent another winter researching, designing, pouring over books and garden magazines until my dream garden became a reality.
After a winter of dreaming, I came up with a list of must haves:
Beds for herbs in a logical order: the Medicinal garden, a garden of fragrance, a culinary garden, and a garden of delight.
A knot garden
A fairy garden
A picket fence
Room for every flower and herb I’ve ever wanted to grow.
In my dreaming garden scheme, I would add an arbor with a seat at some point and a running fountain, and so much more.
My garden began in the middle of the side yard where the sun shone all day. One corner would hit just below the branches of a flowering crab apple tree. Here I could grow semi-shade plants.
Knot Garden Focal The goal was to start in the center and work our way outward. The beds were landscaping timbers with slightly rounding sides, set one on top of the other. The first bed laid out was a square that would become the garden’s focal point. I purchased a beautiful wood dovecote from a builder in Bryan. It was set on a tall post in the center of the square bed. Germander and gray santolina planted in a chain pattern edged the central bed. Germander, also created an X growing from each corner to the post. Future plans included making the knot more complex.
The next set of beds were L-shaped creating a larger square around the little knot garden in the center. Keep in mind; I called each bed a little garden.
Culinary Garden An edging of chives surrounded borage, different varieties of sage, several thymes, basil, that self-sowed much to my delight, and whatever captured my fancy at the time. Lovage with its celery flavor and the vibrant color and peppery taste of nasturtiums added textures and pattern. Umbrellas of dill dropped their seeds in fall placing new plants in odd places.
I like to stuff beds full and tend to crowd plants to create a lush look faster. I also follow the design concept of odd numbers. I nearly always plant one variety in a clump of three’s, five’s, or seven’s.
Medicinal Garden I have never been a follower of natural remedies and first aid, but the historical uses of herbs, besides culinary, was primarily to heal or soothe the human body. Research enough and you’ll discover a medicinal use for almost every plant. I grew plants that people would recognize and enjoy, but that had a firm background in early medicine. Yarrow was said to staunch the flow of blood and stood proud in the medicinal bed. Lamb’s ears, an ancient type of band-aid lent softness to the garden with velvety leaves. Mint, buried in tile and chamomile soothed stomachaches. An ancient herb, hyssop was considered a fumigant and strewn about floors. A well-loved plant with blue-green foliage, rue, completed the medicinal garden.
Fragrance Garden The truth is the whole garden was fragrant, but I wanted a bed just for the most fragrant of my favorite herbs. Lavender dominated the fragrance bed with spikes of deep purple, pink, and blue. The flowering spikes became tied bundles or lavender wands. I grew mignonette after reading about it in Rosetta E. Clarkson’s book, Green Enchantment, published in 1940. Lemon balm, lemon thyme, a pot of lemon verbena, pineapple sage, violets, and monarda or bee balm made the bed the most fragrant spot in the garden. Scented geraniums, especially the rose scented ones were placed in pots about the bed.
Garden of Delight This bed was reserved for the plants and herbs that enchanted me in some way. An edging of ornamental strawberries, called ‘Pink Panda’ produced a plethora of pink blossoms that made me smile. Marjoram, summer savory, tansy, calendula, marigolds, and artemisias filled the bed. The plantings changed from year to year with various annuals.
Those four beds surrounded the square bed in the center. The paths were covered with black plastic and pea gravel brought in to line the paths. Tons of topsoil was purchased to fill the beds and I used cocoa bean mulch exclusively within my dream garden.
Watching my brother, Bill and his wife Judy, build their new garden has brought back so many memories. I miss my garden and can’t wait until I can plant a bit of earth to call my own, until then it’s container gardening and big dreams.
Tomorrow I’ll tell you how the garden grew into an English cottage garden.
Now get out there and get dirt beneath your fingernails!
I’m not sure when I first fell in love with herbs, it was sometime in my early 20s, probably after reading a historic novel. My first venture into growing herbs began with seeds. I thought I could grow lavender, thyme, and rosemary by casting seed around the old windmill on the farm. I covered the seeds with soil, watered the area, but of course, nothing came up. Starting herbs like lavender and thyme from seeds takes some knowledge of horticulture and the right growing conditions. At the time, I grew a vegetable garden and a bed of strawberries, but nothing from seed started indoors. Starting lavender seeds indoors can be done, but it takes patience as lavender seeds take a month or more to germinate.
I began reading about herbs and the more I read the more fascinated I became with the history, beauty, and usefulness of the plants. My first herb plants came from a Smith & Hawken catalog that landed in the mailbox one day. I sat leafing through the thin catalog enraptured by what I saw…lush green thymes; spikes of lavender in blue, pale purple, and pink; bushes of rosemary in terra cotta pots, and lemon verbena light and refreshing beckoning me to buy, buy, buy…so I did. The plants arrived wrapped in damp newspapers, bare root exposed, and looking a bit wilted. I jumped in the car and ran to the nearest store for clay pots. I couldn’t wait to plant the herbs.
An old wooden wheel from a long discarded wagon or buggy became my first herb garden. I wish I had a picture of it, but it never dawned on me to photograph my gardening journey at that time. As a foolish grower, I hadn’t read enough about herbs, yet. I was just excited to grow a few. So I planted spearmint, thyme, lavender, lemon balm, lamb’s ears, and Silver king Artemisia. I can almost hear the gasps and cringes emitting from herb enthusiasts. Yes, I placed two invasive herbs, next to darlings like thyme and lavender that overtook the entire wheel, heading out into the lawn. If you’ve never grown herbs, you should know… mints of any kind invade every corner of the garden, landscape, or lawn unless you take extra precautions to keep the mouth-watering fragrant herb in check. Artemisia is a prolific plant, growing tall, and sometimes gangly, falling over into its neighbors. Both plants add a layer of beauty, fragrance, and utility to the garden and should be included, but showcase each properly and refrain from planting helter-skelter.
In the few years I had my wheel garden, I fell head over heels for the fragrant plants and wanted more. A flowerbed was worked up and herbs planted among iris, a Queen Elizabeth rose, globe thistle, and a variety of annuals became my focus. I started sticking herbs everywhere… in the vegetable garden, in the flower beds around the house, and anywhere I could find an open bit of earth, but I wasn’t satisfied… I wanted an herb garden smack dab in the middle of the side yard.
I picked up a book called The Pleasure of Herbs by Phyllis Shaudys. I spent the winter pouring over that book as if it were a new friend and I needed to know every intimate detail. A long-time insomniac, I would sneak downstairs so the light would not bother anyone and read all about herbs at 2 am. I found sources for herbs that I could not purchase in rural northwest Ohio. I discovered garden designs and how-to directions for building raised beds. I discovered a love that then turned into a passion.
As spring approached, I had my garden design drawn on paper, a list of plants, and a pleading plan ready to go. Yes, I got my raised bed herb garden using old lumber from the farm.
I placed a bee skep in the center of the garden and thought surely I would be satisfied, but my passionate hobby turned into a business and once again, the bigger, better bug hit me. This time I wanted my dream garden.
Come back and learn about the dream garden tomorrow.
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