Photo of the Week--9/19/11

Although flowers are nice, they aren't necessary to create a beautiful garden of growing things. This lovely scene is part of the Botanical Gardens of Montreal, which I encourage any tourist to the city to visit. Just make sure you save most of the day: you won't want to choose between the bonsai gardens, orchid greenhouses, outdoor water gardens, lovely walkways, and indoor displays.

Photo of the Week--9/12/11

September is here and in full swing and I am dragging my heels and hanging on for dear life to summer.... Usually I love everything about fall—football, cooler temps, back-to-school—but this summer has flown by and I feel like I haven't been able to stop and smell the flowers. So here I'm virtually stopping to look at the flowers; these were at the Anne of Green Gables House on Prince Edward Island, Canada. Of course Green Gables wasn't a real place, but there is a house that inspired L.M. Montgomery when creating her classic series ... at least the Canadian government says there is, as long as there are hundreds of tourists coming to PEI each year to check it out. The garden is certainly worth a visit.

Photo of the Week--5/9/11

Okay, so I'm a week late to celebrate the royal wedding, but here is a photo from Merrie Olde England, a veddy British garden at beautiful Sissinghurst Castle in Kent. It had been a medieval castle once visited by Queen Elizabeth I, then fell into disrepair, was built and re-built, housed prisoners of war in the 18th century, and was finally rediscovered by married writers Vita Sackville-West and Sir Harold Nicolson in the 1930s. They're the ones who designed the marvelous garden, which was full of beautiful blooms when we visited in summer of 2001. I'm hoping I'm going to have some beautiful blooms of my own in my garden soon.

Wordless definitions: greedy

I've mentioned before that orchids really like the greenhouse window TSU installed in my kitchen, and rewarded me with loads and loads of blossoms this spring. My three phaelenopses are in full bloom right now, one with about two dozen flowers, and one of my stubborn cattleyas even bloomed. So although I wasn't lacking blooms when I attended a local orchid show, I wasn't lacking extra space in my window, either. I spent a few minutes looking at the displays, but I was more interested in the sales room. I really had trouble choosing. There was this lovely phaelenopsis, white with just a blush of pink in the center ... and phaelenopsis are almost idiot-proof, so it would be a good investment. But then there was this gorgeous white cattleya with raspberry stripes ... and it had a gorgeous scent! But then the phaelenopsis was on sale! But the cattleya was so pretty! You can see my final decision, and why it suits our wordless definition:

When it comes to orchids, I can't help being greedy.

Photo of the Week--4/19/10

"Tulips are blooming / in Holland / Michigan" ... I remember singing that waltz in school when I was growing up in the Mitten state, and wondering about tulips in the original Holland. We took a trip in spring 2001 and visited the famous gardens of Keukenhof. There were endless rows of blooming tulips, daffodils, and other bulbs—and that was just at the gardens! On the train from Delft (where we were staying), we saw acres and acres of tulip farms, the same ones that supply so many of the bulbs that end up in Michigan. Now that it's tulip time here at home, I thought it was a good time to post this picture of real Dutch tulips.

Wordless definitions: abundance

Actually, I considered using this picture for the definition "envy," because any time my mom sees how my orchids are doing she complains that her plants don't bloom like mine do. As you can see on the bottom shelf, all three of my phalaenopsis orchids have inflorescences (stems with blossoms), and plenty of them. Old Faithful on the far right, which I bought at Sam's Club of all places, blooms every year with several flowers and this year is giving me a ridiculous four branches on the same stem. My newest phalaenopsis (the one in the middle), if you look near the bamboo stalk pointing up, has a couple of buds on its stem. And you probably can't see that the phalaenopsis on the left has a second stem parallel to the floor, in addition to the one that's grown vertically to the shelf above it. Because phalaenopsis blooms usually last several weeks in my house, I'm going to have a ton of blooms soon.

Of course, the flowers that really got me excited belong to the laeliocattleya (an artificial hybrid of cattleyas) on the top shelf. Not only is it a gorgeous color, but cattleyas and their hybrids have also proven harder for me to get to bloom at home. I usually buy one in bloom, and then it sits there for a few years, stubbornly withholding blossoms, often until it withers and dies. (Mortality rate for cattleyas in my house is not good; they are not as idiot-proof as phalaenopses, unfortunately.) But this one I bought last spring, so the fact that it's blooming a year later is cause for celebration. The blooms won't last as long, but it's enough to bring some cheer into my flowerless March.

I don't care what the calendar says...

... when I look at recent additions to my garden, I think it's still summer! Last year I planted a white climbing rose, and this spring a pink one:


The white rose didn't do a whole lot last year, but this year it's thriving and spreading beautiful blossoms all over the side of the garage. The scent is sweet, but even nicer are the beautiful buds, which start out a lovely blush peach before turning white. When the pink climber gets going next spring, it's going to look incredible.


Not long after we returned from England in 2002, I dug up little beds along each side of our garage, so that I could plant bulbs and annuals. The bulbs never did well; between bunnies and our very clay-ey soil, they were doomed. But I've tried different annuals over the years. I did begonias a few times, and they spread very nicely. They're not very bright plants, though, so last year I tried red and white salvia. Those were bright enough, but they didn't spread very well. I didn't want to try impatiens because they are so prevalent, and I worried they might not do well in an area with so much sun. So I tried vinca, aka periwinkle, and we have a winner! Look how many blooms and how much color I have after a few months!


So although fall is my favorite season, and I prefer cooler weather, I'm going to dig my fingernails in and try to hold onto summer a little longer this year.

Wordless definitions: Anticipation

Mmmmm. If I'd gotten a picture of me, going out to water in the morning and staring at the tomato plant, then that would be the definition for impatient. You can't see it, but the cherry tomato plant to the right is also chock full of teeny tiny green tomatoes. C'mon, sun, do that ripening!

I wonder where the flowers iz?

In theory, spring has sprung here in Michigan, even if I did have to shovel the driveway last week. The tulip bulbs I planted last fall have managed to poke through the layers of mulch and snow, so I should get some pretty flowers by the end of the month. I am impatient, though. I want warmer weather now! I want pretty colors now! Good thing I have my orchids.


When we moved back from England, I thought I might try growing orchids. The Spousal Unit even installed a very nice greenhouse window over the kitchen sink, so I could keep them (mostly) out of the reach of silly kitties, who like to nibble on greenery and knock pots over. I have about half a dozen orchids, both cattleyas and phalaenopses, which are usually the easiest to grow. I call the one on the left "Old Faithful." It was the first orchid I bought, and I got it at a Sam's Club at least five years ago. Every year without fail it reblooms, sending up a spike that has at least a dozen flowers on it. For the last couple of years, Old Faithful has sent up a second spike, either at the same time or later, during the summer. Not bad for a non-fancy phalaenopsis I bought on a whim.

I haven't had as good luck with getting my cattleyas to rebloom, or even survive. I bought one the year after I got OF, and it didn't do anything but collect kitty bites until last spring, when it finally gave me lovely, delicate, bright-orange blossoms. Another one I bought shrivelled up and died. :-( But I keep watering and being patient, in the hopes I'll get more blossoms someday.

I've had better luck with this other phalaenopsis, which I'm pretty sure I bought at an orchid show. I love to go to orchid shows, although I have to restrain myself from buying more plants when I don't have any space left in my greenhouse window. Even though I forgot to repot this one last summer, and it's a little cramped in its current home, it has favored me with flowers this spring. It sent up a spike even before Old Faithful, and the spike split in two, so I'll get double the blossoms. On mornings like today, when I get up and it's still dark and freezing outside, I like the reminder that growing season is coming, and soon enough I'll be complaining about all the pruning and weeding and planting I'll have to do!

A tomato by any other name....

Ah, summer. When it's not so hot that I want to find a small dark cave and estivate* until fall, I do like to spend time in my corner gardens. I finally got around to doing a little weeding, and I deadheaded my irises, so the beds look pretty neat right now. It's blooming time for my roses, daylilies (both orange and magenta), several varieties of hardy geraniums, snapdragons (many of which have sprouted and spread from last year's seeds), oriental lilies, hollyhocks, a bicolor butterfly bush, and a red honeysuckle that intertwines with a dark purple clematis. Even my shady astilbe plants are blooming, and as a bonus my lavender is in full flower, enchanting both my nose and the local bees.

Right now, however, my favorite plant is the beauty in the photo above. I got it through the marching band's annual plant sale; I'd never bought a tomato plant bigger than a 4" pot before, so I was astounded by the size of this one (a 12" pot, I think) when I first got it. I barely had enough room to transplant it into this container. I added a little sunshine and water, and now I'm getting a bonanza of cherry tomatoes. As a bonus, they're 100% organic (no pesticides needed, only a birdfeeder) and completely salmonella-free. Plus, they taste about 1000 times better than what you get in the store.

So while flowers are a delight for the eyes and nose, they can't quite match the appeal of a healthy, heavily laden tomato plant. I think next year I'll need to get another container and double my output. I've still got a little bit of room on the deck.

*Word nerd alert: You can only hibernate in the winter, as is obvious from the root, the Latin hibernus, which means "winter." If you're going to sleep through the summer, the proper verb is estivate; the adjective form would be "teenaged."

You win some, you lose some....

Woe is me! Today I lament the loss of a dear, dear friend. A friend that sheltered me, guided me, made life more beautiful, and occasionally dropped its seeds on my head. Yes, our bad luck with trees continues, as yesterday's thunderstorms spelled doom for our most cherished cherry tree. We heard a loud "CRACK!" amongst all the thunder, wind, and rain—and no, it wasn't one of my knees. It was the last gasp of our beautiful companion. Witness the carnage for yourself:



This is the latest in a run of bad luck when it comes to the shade trees on our property. When we bought our house in 1997, the front yard was shaded by the cherry and a grand old ash, while the back yard had an even bigger ash and a corkscrew willow. Well, the ashes had to be removed in 2003, after they became the latest victims of the emerald ash borer. We made a garden out of the spot in the back yard where the ash had stood (the grass underneath was sparse anyway), and planted a river birch in the front yard. I don't know what we'll do now that the cherry is gone—get a lot more light through the front windows, for one. We have to see what our options are for replanting, as the cherry was right next to the walkway, and the birch is pretty much centered in the front lawn.

However, I should look on the bright side. When the cherry toppled, no one was standing in the way. (They would've been extremely stupid to do so, since it was thundering and raining horizontally, but you never know.) No one had their car parked in the driveway, so no surprise body work. The bulk of the branches missed the garage and the gutters, so no damage to the house at all. And my other half got the opportunity to use that chainsaw he bought a couple months ago "just for little trims." Cleaning this mess is going to involve more than a little trimming, but at least someone is going to get some nice firewood out of the event. Now I've just got to cross my fingers that nothing happens to the corkscrew willow in our back yard, because that would be a catastrophe no matter how it decided to go.

Summertime, and the living ain't easy....

For some reason I don't seem to get a lot of writing done in the summer. It's the season of sun and fun, right? I must be out cavorting at the pool, or reading in the hammock, or eating fresh cherries and spitting the pits at the cats; there must be all sorts of relaxing things I'm doing instead of writing, right?

Ennnnhhhh, wrong! I am not a summer person. First of all, I'm not a big fan of heat and humidity, since it tends to make me wheeze like a leaky balloon. Second, summer means "summer vacation," which means Boy is home full-time. Don't get me wrong, I love spending time with my son--probably more than he does with me, given that he's now fourteen and I have become totally embarassing--but day after day of "I'm booooooorrrrrred" gets tedious. (This year, ha ha ha, I made him think it was his idea to join Marching Band--four weeks of practice during the summer--and take a summer computer class, so that problem should be alleviated somewhat.)

Still, there are several things I enjoy about summer, although they take away from writing time. First of all, I don't have to get up before 7 am every weekday!! That means more glorious sleep, but less writing time. (Although I will argue that added sleep makes my brain more efficient. There must be some way to prove that I write more words per hour when I'm well-rested.)

The other thing I love about summer is my garden. As you can see from the picture, it's going gonzo right now: irises, columbines, geraniums, even the roses are starting to bloom. Unfortunately, that means it needs maintenance. If I want more blooms later in the summer, I need to get in there and deadhead the irises. It's very relaxing working in the garden, but I generally end up doing it in late afternoon, which is usually peak writing time for me. I also need to pick out all the sunflower sprouts from the back garden. The bird feeder is great for attracting everything from finches, sparrows, and cardinals (and grackles, blech) to a hawk that likes to eat sparrows (and grackles, yeah!). Whoops! Another reason to lose a little more writing time, staring at the birdies. (Or staring at my kitties staring at the birdies, which can be a hoot.)

Still, I can't complain too much. I'll bet that next February I'll reread this entry and think, "What was her problem? Crazy girl, at least she sees the sun more than once a week!"