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.

Procrastination Vacation!

Ah, summer! It's August, and the fish are calling us. "Come catch us!" they whisper. "Come filet us!" they hint. "Come fry us up in pancake mix and butter!" they suggest. "Come eat us!" they insist. We shan't disappoint them.

Yes, it's time to join what's becoming an annual ritual for my family: fish camp. We find a place on a lake, rent a few cabins and a pontoon boat, catch fish like crazy, and eat eat eat! This year we will have almost 40 people from four generations of the family: my 92-year-old grandmother, still healthy and witty and determined to enjoy everything now that it's our turn to cook; 7 of her 8 children (plus 4 or 5 of their spouses/partners); 10 of her 11 grandchildren (plus 6 of their spouses/partners); and 8 or 9 of her great-grandchildren, from Boy, the eldest at 14, to the newest addition, only 3 months old. It will be quite the gathering, complete with food, cards, food, swimming, biking, food, reading, sightseeing, and I think some food.

So, Dear Readers (all six of you), I am taking a break from this blog. Although my laptop is accompanying us up North, I won't being trying to work. I have no need to procrastinate, and thus no need to spend time here. Besides, half my regular readers will be up at camp with me. Through the magic of scheduled postings, a new photo-of-the-week entry will appear on Monday; if I manage to finish The Pioneers tonight, I might schedule it to appear during the week. But maybe not. The fish are waiting, you see, and I need to get ready.

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."

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!"