Gardening: Year Five

I'm not exactly Jerry Baker when it comes to gardening. I tend to be a passive gardener, rather than one who waters daily and feeds periodically. I've killed more plants than I've successfully tended over the past five years as a homeowner.

I'm finally starting to realize that bulbs and rhizomes are definite winners for me, as I can pretty much "set it and forget it." Three years ago, I planted some miniature daffodils that Sheryl gave me for my birthday, and they've survived, albeit weakly. Two years ago, I planted some daylilies from my co-worker, Scott, and they're easily the strongest and healthiest plants in my yard. Finally, last fall, I planted a lily and a few bulbs (daffodils and tulips, I think) by the mailbox, and they seem to be sprouting up just fine.

I've tried my hand at supposedly "invasive" plants, too, like catnip. It's supposed to spread and self-sow like a mofo, but it hasn't, really. The first year, I started the catnip indoors and then planted it outside, and I harvested a sandwich bag full of Kitty Herb, leaving several plants to go to seed. Last year was the second year of the catnip, and only a few plants came up, so I only harvested a few sprigs, leaving most to go to seed. So far this year, I see just two little catnip plants sprouting up, and I doubt the harvest will be very plentiful.

The newcomers to the yard this year will be the grape hyacinth I bought to add color to my desk at work. It may end up being friends with the miniature daffodils, or I may plant it under another tree in the front yard.

Oh, and I'm also planning a resurgence of annuals this year — specifically, impatiens, which seemed to thrive well enough in the dry shade under the overhang in front of our split-level house. (Nothing else ever did.) I may see how hostas fare there, too. But nothing will be planted until mid-May, after we return from our vacation. Never again am I leaving new baby plants to the mercy of the elements while I'm out of town. Not even for a long weekend.

I have a large container of lilies of the valley, also from Scott; I had planted them under said overhang when he first gave them to me, but they didn't do well, so I rescued them and transplanted them. I've had them for a few years now, and I keep meaning to bring them inside during the winter... but I forget and leave them out all winter long. Last year, I still had a few left. We'll see how many I have left this year. Maybe I'll find an appropriate permanent home for them this year. I have a few ideas.

Someday I'll have a decently landscaped and colorful yard. Until then, I'll just see what works.

Houseplant Geekery

It occurs to me that nearly every single one of my houseplants is in need of repotting.

Every. Single. One.

If you care to indulge my plant geekery, read on for my current houseplant inventory...

read more...

Gardening: Year Four

Year One (2004): Moved into the new house in March. Planted $100 worth of nursery plants in April. Killed every blessed one.

Year Two (2005): Received free plants from work and bought seedlings online. Planted miniature daffodils that Sheryl gave me for my birthday. Only the daffodils lived to see another Spring.

Year Three (2006): Planted daylilies from Scott at work in Fall 2005. Bought plants in a white elephant sale in the Spring. Started seeds indoors. Daylilies came up grandly; plants died before I planted them; only catnip and lemon basil seedlings survived the furry aminal seige once planted outside. The previous year's mini daffodil bulbs came up, albeit a touch weakly.

Year Four (2007): Impending. Daylilies currently showing leafy growth. One lone mini daffodil has already peeked out its little head, only to get snowed on. Catnip is still MIA, although I have high hopes. Scott got me greenhouse tulips that have already bloomed and done their piece; I plan to plant the bulbs outside after the leafy growth dies back.

Today, I spent some quality time with my lone surviving Rose of Sharon cutting. The ones I brought from the old apartment died off over time, but one of the cuttings from Scott is still alive and kicking. I've had it in perlite (a rooting medium) for nigh on two or three years now. I forget. At any rate, I repotted it this evening into a large plastic pot, leftover from my unfortunate garden center trip of 2004. I'm not sure what its root system is *supposed* to look like, but what it's got is a long, stringy root system with feathery branchings-off here and there. The root system, stretched out, is probably one and a half times as long as the stick-with-leaves is tall.

So, I'm planning to set the Rose of Sharon outside once the danger of frost is past, in hopes of getting it growing upward more, branching out a little, and getting used to the outside. I don't know if I'll try to plant it this fall yet, but hopefully it'll at least like its new home. Hopefully I didn't just sign its death warrant, as I so often do with my garden plants.

The key for me? Finding low-maintenance plants that can stand being forgotten about for up to two weeks. Plants that don't require daily watering. Plants that won't kick it over the winter if I don't get the mulch down in time. Yes, I am a neglectful gardener. But I still like plants. And gardening.

Filling In The Gaps

Since some fantastic small furry animal (perhaps now gathered together with several of its friends in a cave and grooving with a pict?) ate my sweet basil, I decided to start some new plants indoors. Three sweet basil, three lemon basil, and three lavender. They're currently living under the plant lamp, which is on a timer, and they've been there for... three days? Four? Something like that. All three sweet basil are almost an inch tall, the lemon basil are over half an inch tall — the two that germinated, anyway — and the lavender aren't doing crap.

I thought maybe I got three duds. So I planted a couple more yesterday, in the same peat pellet pots. No love today.

So, I went online to check the germination time of lavender. (I believe the internet before I believe the seed packet.) And what do I find? Lavender can take up to a month to germinate! I might have to research some alternate germination methods (in the fridge?!) to make these babies grow.

Oops. Who knew?

So Much To Say

Back still hurts like a mofo. I made an appointment with a local chiropractor for tomorrow right after work, so hopefully that'll set me on the road to recovery. Every time I try to stand up, I swear vehemently at no one and declare that this is fucking bullshit. I'm looking forward to living without lower back pain again.

Man, WTF. I've never fucked myself up this bad before.

Anyway. Not that we'll be doing it this weekend, being that my back's still fuckered up, but the next room to paint is the dining room. Home improvement veterans, I could use some design opinion assistance.

Aaron still isn't sure what to think of Sheryl's idea to build the color palette around the awesome bachelor pad lamp. I'm having a time of it myself. I have to decide a.) what color to paint the living room and upstairs hallway (preferably the same color, as they share a wall), and b.) what color to paint the adjoining dining room. I'm unsure what would make the space seem bigger: painting the dining room a darker color, so it seems to extend farther back than it really does; or painting the dining room the same color as (or even lighter than?) the living room.

My general idea for the color of the living room is for it to contrast the lamp. Light enough to contrast against the base, and dark enough to contrast the shade. My original thought was the Bagel color (these are swatches from Behr paints), as I was trying to match one particular color on the palette I pulled from the lamp (above — and yes, all those colors were sampled directly from the lamp photo). Now that I see the potential wall shades all together, though, I'm thinking I prefer a tan to an orange. I mean, I spent over ten years of my life hating being stuck with an orange and brown and school, and now what do I start planning for my living room? Yeah.

Anywhozit, I'm trying to create an understated wall and general color palette, so that the lamp is actually an accent against other more muted earth tones. I'm thinking of going back to behr.com and starting with the Chai Latte color as a jumping-off point for other earth tones. I can't reconcile the idea of having a living room, hallway, and dining room the color of dried pumpkin. Might look nice, but it's not really my thing.

And for one last Martha Stewart moment: I just started a few more seeds tonight. Three lemon basil, three lavender, and three sweet basil. I'm planning to put them in a planter indoors. Maybe I'll transplant the lavender outside after it's grown big enough — like, next year. Until then, it'll get harvested and eaten like the other herbs.

OMG. The entire weedy area by the house is going to be overtaken by catnip! ...And I'm OK with that. ^_^

Getting Back In Touch With My Garden

While I was home today, nursing my lower back, Aaron suggested that I go into the back yard and check out the plants that are actually thriving on my benign neglect.

Turns out that the tiger lilies daylilies that I planted back in the fall are not only big and bushy, but are about to bloom! They're currently sporting tall stalks topped with large orange buds. A photo op will soon be had.

The roses of sharon that I kept in my watering can are still green, while the one I planted in the ground is officially a dead stick. I can deal with hydroponic altheas, I suppose. Maybe someday I'll manage to plant them somewhere appropriate.

My herb garden was the big shocker for me. I'd just about given up on it after the fuzzy aminals ate all my parsley and sweet basil. All that was left was catnip and two lemon basil plants.

The catnip are a freakin' foot tall now. And the lemon basil plants are healthy and bushy. Who knew?

I harvested several stalks of catnip, and have some catnip tea chilling in the fridge right now. (I think I put too much honey in it, though. Oops.) I currently have about five stalks of catnip hanging in my dining room, and I have every intention of making Mei a cute catnip toy with The Good Stuff™, as soon as it dries.

Moral of the story? Bulbs good. Invasive herbs good (for my gardening style, anyway). High-maintenance plants not so good.

Seedlings = Planted

Yesterday, Scott gave me about a dozen Rose of Sharon shrublings (twigs with leaves and roots) that he removed from a friend's yard. However, it rained like a mofo yesterday, so all I could do was stick them in a watering can full of water and hope for the best. This morning, before work, they actually looked pretty good. Perky, not wilty. Good sign.

When I got home from work today, I made myself some dinner and then prepared myself for some digging in the dirt. When all was said and done, I spent about an hour and a half gardening in the mud.

I ended up removing a patch of grass along the west fence that was maybe a little bigger than four feet square. I attempted to transplant the grass/sod/whatever to a bare patch in our lawn, handfuls at a time. We'll see if that takes, or if Aaron berates me for attempting it. Anyway, I planted one Rose of Sharon in the middle of that newly-created dirt patch, and left the others in the watering can.

All the while, the wind was kicking up and it was threatening to rain, so I re-evaluated my evening of gardening fun once I was done getting the Rose of Sharon securely in the ground. (I hope.) I ended up leaving the remaining Roses of Sharon in favor of creating my little herb garden plot, as my seedlings were starting to look kind of peaked.

I ended up digging up a patch about three feet by five feet, right by the house, underneath the air conditioner. Believe it or not, it seems that this area gets the most sunshine during the most hours of the day. I hope I'm right about that. Anyway, I ended up with six catnip plants in the back row, six sweet basil in the middle row, and two lemon basil in the front row with six closely-spaced parsley plants. I really hope they take.

My two remaining hollyhocks ain't doing too good. I put them in the front, with the other sun-loving plants that need planted soon. I think they'll live, although I'm not sure if they'll bloom (which will make it a challenge for them to reseed themselves for next year).

Aaron has gone on the record as being unenthused about me digging up so much grass, being that we already have giant grassless patches in the back yard. I'm going to make a concerted effort to make all this shit live this year, though. I want to make our shit pretty, dammit. I will make this work.

More Plants?

You guys are going to get sick of me continually blogging about the plants I haven't killed yet.

You might recall that I got several plants from the resident Plant Guru at work last year. This year, she included her plants in the White Elephant Sale to benefit the American Cancer Society's Relay For Life, rather than just giving them away. Everyone who placed a "bid" on her plants was guaranteed at least one plant, since she brought in about 30. It ended up that I donated $7.50 (not including what I gave for the dress-down day and the potluck) and got six plants. Not a bad deal.

Thankfully, Melissa labels her plants, and labels them well, so I knew what I was getting myself into before I selected which plants I wanted to take home. I tried to get plants that would tolerate partial shade, but I *had* to get the lamb's ear.

Yes, lamb's ear. It's pale green and fuzzy.

Today's haul consisted of:

• (2) Lamb's Ear - Stachys byzantia
  6-12" tall, full sun to part shade, perennial, fuzzy pale green leaves with purple flowers
• (2) Veronica "Georgia Blue" - Veronica umbrosa
  6" tall, full sun to part shade, perennial, creeping ground cover with small blue flowers
• (1) Purple Coneflower - Echinacea purpurea (?)
  2-3' tall, full sun, perennial, magenta flowers
• (1) Black-Eyed Susan "Goldsturm" - Rudbeckia fulgida
  1-2' tall, full sun to part shade, perennial, yellow-gold petals and brown/black centers

As always, getting plants from other people as opposed to making a planned purchase makes my garden planning a little more interesting. I don't have much full-sun space, and what I do have is in the front yard (where everyone can witness my neglect).

I hesitate to plant anything of value to me by the mailbox, as I don't have much faith in the permanence of our inexpensive cheap mailbox post. I'd hate to have to try to move established plants so we can install a new post someday in the future.

I also hesitate to plant anything along the driveway, as our driveway isn't terribly wide, and I end up walking on the grass when I get in the car (on the passenger's side, anyway), especially in the wintertime. There are also moles galore (OK, maybe it's only one, but he's a busy one) on the other side of the driveway, so I don't think I'd be keen on planting anything there, really. Although it probably means that we have good soil there, and grubs, and nummy things for moles to feast upon.

My sunny choices are on either side of the sidewalk leading from the driveway to the front door. Either I bite into our front lawn proper (where the best sun is), or I take the foot or so in front of the bushes (which wouldn't exactly be full sun, since our house faces north; the plants would sometimes be in the shade of the bushes).

The plants I picked seem to have good reviews on Dave's Garden, though: the lamb's ear is hardy and potentially invasive, the purple coneflower grows tall and doesn't need staking, the veronica is evergreen, and the black-eyed susans are also evergreen and seem to be fairly low-maintenance.

I need to sit down and make a battle plan. The time is coming soon when I'll need to put all these plants in the ground, and I'll need to have an idea of what this little arrangement should look like when I'm done. I'm not averse to filling in any empty spots with some annuals (impatiens was my friend a couple years ago), but I don't want my flower bed to look stupid. Y'know?

We'll see how this goes...

Weeds I'd Be Happy To Grow

As I've mentioned in my weekly diet updates, I like to take a half-hour to 45-minute walk every day during my lunch hour. There's a short path through a small wooded area in the middle of the business park, and I've walked it almost every day for... gee, probably seven or eight months now. I feel like my day is incomplete without my walk through the woods.

Since this is the first year I've walked the path in the early spring, I'm seeing all kinds of new wildflowers and plants I never noticed before. They all just melded together into a fantastic wooded greenness. Now, though, after walking in the winter and seeing everything bare, the new growth is really catching my eye. Especially flowers and things with splashes of color or unusual shape.

Now, I figure that if these plants are growing in the woods with no help from Man, they must be native to the NW Ohio area and able to thrive on their own in a shady environment. That's pretty much a definition of my back yard: shady and neglected. :-) If I could identify these plants, and could procure seeds or seedlings (I'd rather not remove them from the walking path), I could very likely grow quite the kick-ass wildflower bed along one of our hedge walls. Assuming Aaron wouldn't nix the idea due to his allergies.

I wish I could do a reverse Google Image search: plug in an image and have it search for images like it, or a definition of what I photographed. But alas (and alack), the only thing I can do is take pictures of the pretties and post them for my good readers to help me identify.

For pretty pictures of weeds wildflowers, read on...

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Frost Tonight

Stan Stachak says there's going to be frost tonight. I do have a few perennials coming up, and I'm not planning to go out and cover them all, but I'll be damned if I'm going to give my rose over to the last frost.

I went out this evening before sunset and pruned the rose back just a little before wrapping it in an old pillowcase and weighting the pillowcase down with some terra-cotta pots. Must remember to remove the pillowcase in the morning before I leave for work.

Hopefully this saves my rose from losing any precious growth. Poor thing looks like crap, but I'm not giving up on it.

(I did feel a little absurd, protecting a rose in the middle of a patch of dirt and weeds. Maybe I *should* move the rose elsewhere, so Aaron and I can plant grass over that entire stretch.)

As for my other perennials... the tiger lilies survived cold snaps earlier in the season, and they're still just big bushy leaves with no blooms, so I'm not concerned about them. Something's coming up that I planted by my Morning Glories last year (hell if I can remember what it is), but I don't really have an emotional investment in it, since it didn't do much last year. My coreopsis has been heaving during the winter a bit, and is just now starting to grow new leaves, so I'm a little worried about it, but I think it should be fine.

Not a peep from the lavender that was growing next to the coreopsis. This was supposed to be the year it bloomed. I wish I would have known it might not have survived the winter; I had seeds I could have started. Oh, well. Maybe I'll just let the coreopsis have the mailbox and replant lavender elsewhere.

A Little Help?

Welcome to my problem spot.

When we moved in, there was a giant, out-of-control forsythia bush bogarting this entire space. Or maybe it was two. Yeah, it was at least two. At any rate, we dug all the bushes up, due to their scraggly beyond-hope nature. This, unfortunately, left a giant dirt pit, devoid of grass. I tried growing herbs and a rosebush here, but they all failed miserably. The rose still lives here, although you can't see its teeny bare twigs in this picture. (Draw an imaginary line down the edge of the house, and the rose lives about half an inch down from the foundation on that line. Yeah, that bushy thing that looks like just another weed.) I also planted some of Scott's tiger lilies over on the left, by the fence, and I mulched them today. (You can see the line of red mulch by the fence, barely.)

But OMG, look at the rest!

*puts head in hands*

It looks sunny enough now, but a.) this is just before sunset, and b.) this is still spring. The leaves haven't come in on that maple tree overhead quite yet.

I can't dig or roto-till or anything here, really, because our TV coaxial cable runs dangerously close to the surface of the yard. We'd have to be really extra careful if we dug up the dirt, even just to plant grass. I discovered this while I was digging up the area to make it a weed herb garden two years ago.

So, questions. Andrea, if you read this, this is especially for you. Melody, too, but I don't think you read my blog very much, if at all. (Prove me wrong!) :-) Anyone else who's garden-savvy, go for it. Please.

1.) There are plants coming up that don't look like standard broadleaf weeds. Should I try to identify these, or just say Fuck It? Some of them look kinda neat, but don't flower. I wonder if some of my herbs came back (sage in particular)? I do know that some of these are the forsythia trying to make a comeback with its remaining root system. That fucking thing will NOT go away.

2.) WTF should I plant here? Bulbs? Grass? Or mulch it and pretend something should be growing? We don't have very good luck with grass; we've tried growing it in various parts of the front and back yards, and only succeed in killing it with heat and drought in mid-August, while allowing weeds to sprout up mighty fine. And those were in sunny areas. This is very, very shady in summer.

3.) Should I transplant my hybrid tea rose? The foliage keeps coming back (but no buds or blooms), for two springs now, despite the fact that I continually forget to cover it in autumn. It's shooting up tiny canes and leaves from the crown, and the rest of it is pretty much dead. But the crown is alive, so the rose is alive. Right? So, should I try to move it before it finishes dying, or try to nurse it back to health and strength before I move it, if at all? The place it's currently living is between partial sun and partial shade, I'd say.

I feel like such a damn failure sometimes. As long as I can Set It And Forget It™, I'm good to go. If forgetting to water for a week will kill a particular plant in a particular spot, well, yeah. That's how I roll. Although I am thinking about trying a new ghetto irrigation system I read about in You Grow Girl that might work for whatever I try to plant under the overhang this year. We'll see...

Holy Shit, It's Alive!

Last year, I planted Lilies of the Valley, some purchased from Michigan Bulb and some gifted from Scott at work. None of them appreciated the fact that I often forget to water my outdoor plants. And that I had planted them underneath an overhang, so they wouldn't receive any direct rainfall. Or sun.

In a last-ditch effort to salvage my plants, I moved them from the overhang to a large container outside. I had intended to move the container inside before the snows came — but, like most of my autumn garden chores, that didn't happen. So, this container of Lilies of the Valley has been sitting outside the back door all winter. I expected that I'd killed them from drought long before the snow came, anyway, and had pretty much written them off.

Imagine my surprise when I opened the back door this evening and found this:

How'd that happen?!

Add one more to the list of Not Quite Dead plants, I guess. Also on the list: my poor, neglected rose; the tiger lilies Scott gave me; my miniature daffodils; and the seedlings I'm growing indoors.

While I'm on the subject of gardening, let me air one of my grievances about my back yard:

All around our yard are these fantastic arborvitae tree-hedges. They're easily 20 feet tall, and act as a very effective privacy screen. For some reason, though, whoever planted the arborvitae didn't want to block out the next-door neighbors. As a result, every time I go outside to garden, the neighbors' dog starts barking at me.

Now, I'm not scared of dogs, and I'm not scared of the neighbors. In fact, we've never officially met the neighbors, even after two years of living here. So, when the dog comes out and starts barking at me, and the young adult male son (Christopher, I believe) comes out onto the deck to see what the dog's barking at, and finds me squinting up at him into the sunshine, it makes for an awkward moment. Especially when the only thing I can think of to say is, "Hello, puppy dog!"

Yeah, I guess you could say I have a way with words. *facepalm*

I'd like to screen off this section of fence with a natural screen, as well... but, now that I see how high up that deck is, I'm not sure I want trees or shrubs quite that tall on that side. You know? I'd like to have SOME sun in my damn yard. I was thinking of planting my hollyhocks there, but I don't think they'll grow THAT tall. If my Roses of Sharon have survived the winter, I could plant them over there, and they'd eventually grow tall enough, I think. It would take a while, though.

I don't know. I do know that I don't want to have to stay right by the back door for the rest of forever, in the shielded corner where the house meets the garage. If I were a social creature, maybe I wouldn't mind. As I am, though, I just want to be left alone to garden in peace.

Seedling Update

[Posted on Flickr by dianaschnuth].

The seedlings are just over two weeks old, and they're starting to show me what they're made of. The catnip (above) is growing like mad, and I'm seriously contemplating planting it in a container, rather than in my soon-to-be herb garden. If I actually plant it in the ground, I expect that it will run rampant and destroy all growing things in its path.

The parsley is finally coming up, the sweet basil is growing tall and stately, and the lemon basil is about on a par with the parsley.

I've managed to kill four out of six hollyhocks, thanks to us being out of town during an apparently crucial watering weekend. (Who knew?) One had already died from damping-off, and three others just died of thirst. My two remaining hollyhocks are about 2-3" tall and not very strong. One already needs staked, which can't be good. I'm hoping they'll grow out of it (so to speak).

Germination, Continued

I'll spare you the continued pictorial of the baby plantlings, but I did want to share their ongoing march toward being full-fledged seedlings.

The score so far: Hollyhocks have two tallish sprouts, and two are just starting to pop. Lemon Basil is slow going, with two seeds just barely starting to grow. Sweet Basil has had the lead until today, with all six pellets having good (if still small) growth, and two pots having two sprouts apiece. Parsley isn't budging yet; that's OK, though, because it still has to make a few more visits to hell before it'll start to grow for real. The catnip has been the come-from-behind sleeper hit, though, with five of the six pellets having at least one plant, and most having two or three. This is a recent development — as in, the catnip grew a quarter inch *today*.

I've propped open one corner of the lid of my mini-greenhouse, to improve circulation amongst the almost-seedlings. Some of my hollyhocks have a white fungus starting to grow, which I understand is commonly known as damping-off disease. Supposedly, improving circulation should help, as should misting the seedlings with a peroxide solution. We'll see how that goes. For now, I'm just propping the lid to see if that makes any improvement.

I'm documenting all of this mainly so I can look back later this spring and summer and remember that there was a point at which I was actually growing things, instead of just neglecting and killing them.

[Andrea? Do you have any hippie gardening nuggets of wisdom to share?]

Growing Things

This weekend, I drug Aaron out with me to purchase some planting supplies — most notably, a seed starting kit. I'd purchased several packets of seeds last year, and decided that this is the year I start my own plants from seed.

I ended up starting five plants each of hollyhocks, lemon basil, sweet basil, parsley, and catnip. Well, each peat pellet pot has two or three seeds in it, but they'll be thinned to one per pot, so we'll just say it's five plants apiece.

I've never done this before, so I had no idea how peat pellets worked. It is SO COOL. They start out as little flat discs. You water them with warm water, and poof! They become little miniature biodegradable pots! How cool is that?

And what's cooler? My hollyhocks and my basil are already starting to germinate, after only two days. There are little, pale green stems curling up out of the soil. I opened up the lid of my mini-greenhouse, and it smells like those bean sprouts we planted in first grade. *squee*

So, what's my diabolical plan? Well, I'm planning to plant the hollyhocks close to the fence that borders the neighbors. This will hopefully act as a bit of a privacy screen, as I understand that hollyhocks can grow pretty tall. Beside the hollyhocks, farther away from the fence, I'm hoping to plant one or two of the potted Rose of Sharon bushes/twigs I've been trying not to kill for the past two years. I'm hoping to manage this in a way that doesn't complicate Aaron's lawn-mowing mojo.

In the NE corner of the backyard, I'm planning to plant a little herb garden, with my basil and catnip and parsley and maybe some store-bought plants. There's a decent little patch of sunshine by the fence and the gate, so hopefully I can nestle a little corner of herbalicious goodness there — and, again, not complicate Aaron's lawn-mowing mojo. I'm hoping that my strategy will reduce the amount of edging for me to neglect.

As much as I'm tempted to go buy myself a nice climbing rose, I know I should hold off. I've already just about killed one rosebush from neglect; I don't need to continue my murderous rampage of flora until I can take care of what I've already planted. Plus, goodness knows how much I'll be able to take care of any of this once we pop out a kid. I can't help but assume that infant care and gardening are not particularly compatible.

But that's not for some time yet. For now, I'll be content in watching my baby plants germinate and make condensation inside their little greenhouse.

Pre-Gardening

I wonder what will come back.

I planted some perennials last year. Some did well. Others failed miserably. I'm eagerly awaiting the return of any plants that survived the winter.

See, I'm a very beginning gardener. I also have the unfortunate habit of getting disinterested in various hobbies at various times, which is not good for living things. My houseplants are a prime example; I tend to forget to water them during the winter, and a few plants that I had intended to transplant outside have died during their dormant season as a result of my neglect.

I also am unsure about simple things, like when to mulch and when not to mulch, or how to prepare a flower bed and with what, and so on. Some of these things I can learn online or in books — still, though, it seems like so much to remember! This isn't intuitive to me as it is to some.

Anyway, let me give a rundown of what may or may not return for the Spring of 2006...

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Spring Daffodils

The two bunches of daffodils I had ordered from the American Cancer Society for Daffodil Days arrived this morning, delivered to my desk at work. I wasn't sure if they were going to arrive in pots or cut — turns out they were cut flowers, which was a slight disappointment. (The ones from the University were potted bulbs, as I recall.) This morning, they were completely closed buds; by lunch, half of them had started to open, and by the time I left work today, all but a few were starting to open.

That made me wonder how the mini daffodils I planted last year are faring. Once I got home, and after Aaron left for work, I went outside to take a peek — and they're growing! I had planted them in six or seven clumps, and it looks like all but one clump have a good inch of leafy growth popping up. Yaye!

I feel all springy and excited now. I have the windows open, even though it's cooling down outside, and I'm pumped to do my new Push workout that arrived today. Yeah!

Too bad it's going to be 30's and flurries for the next week. :-P

My Backyard

Welcome to our backyard.

I feel, as I felt over a year ago when we first bought this house, that the backyard is a blank canvas, waiting for flowers and plants and general prettiness. Note the current lack thereof.

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Gardening Update

Well, it's been over a month since I planted my first batch of garden goodness from Michigan Bulb. I wouldn't have bought any more this year, but Scott ended up getting the Fall catalog in the mail, replete (resplendent?) in its fantastic coupon-bearing glory.

So, before the new arrivals arrive, I thought this would be a good time to recap on this season's gardening progress. Read on for photos and descriptions of my cute baby plants and not-so-cute weed gardens.

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Gardening Update

Today, when my co-worker Scott came back from lunch, he brought with him my Moonbeam Coreopsis plants which had arrived from Michigan Bulb today. I had been hoping to plant those today, but the rain had other plans.

Yesterday afternoon, it occured to me that I hadn't planted the bare-root Lilies of the Valley and Delphiniums that I'd picked up from Scott's house the week before. When I went to check them out, to see how they were faring in their little plastic bags, I discovered the Lilies of the Valley growing absolutely apeshit *inside* the sealed bag. It's like going under the kitchen counter to that sack of potatoes you forgot about, and discovering a freaking garden growing in your kitchen: kind of fascinating, but kind of weird and gross. Except these were *supposed* to be growing, so it wasn't as gross as it was weird.

Anyway, after I put the laundry in the dryer last night, I went outside and prepared the dirt in front of the house—basically, I turned over the soil and removed the skeletal remains of last year's gardening debacle—and planted my six Lilies of the Valley.

So, going back a little further: last Friday, as I was getting ready to leave for work, I took a look at the baby plants I'd just gotten the day before. And, to my dismay (but not my surprise, exactly), I found that the cat had knocked my Morning Glories onto the floor. They looked pretty sad. Wilty. Of course, I was running late to work, so all I could do was beat the cat and scoop as much soil as I could back into the pot around the limp leaves. I emailed Aaron once I got to work, and he was a sport and vacuumed up the soil.

Over the weekend, I put all my baby plants outside in the sunshine, still in their happy little plastic containers, and watered them. The healthy plants became even healthier. One Morning Glory perked right back up, but the other one is pretty much dead now. Ah, well. I guess that's why I got two.

So, next on the agenda:

1. Install decorative white wire fence border from Big Lots around the Lilies of the Valley.
   
2. Pack topsoil around mailbox, since some nice person decided to hit it with their car and knock it loose while we weren't home.
   
3. Plant Delphiniums, Coreopsis, and Lavender around mailbox.
   
4. Plant the Morning Glory underneath the little tree by the street.
   
5. Plant Sheryl's miniature daffodil bulbs under the small maple tree in the front yard.
   
6. Figure out where to plant Snapdragons and Calamint.
   

If all this stuff lives to see another spring, I'll be pleasantly surprised.

Free Plants Rock.

This morning at work, I was getting my water bottle out of the break room freezer when I saw a table full of plants. Full. Of little baby plants. I wandered over to where half a dozen people were gathered around, and discovered that a woman from another department was giving away extra runners and sprouts from her garden. She had everything labeled, some with care instructions, and they all looked healthy, if a touch small.

I ended up with four pairs of plants: Snapdragons, Lavender, Morning Glory (Heavenly Blue), and Calamint. I looked them all up in the plant encyclopedia that Aaron got me, so I'll know how not to kill them. Add those to the miniature daffodils that Sheryl got me for my birthday, and the plants I bought from Michigan Bulb with Scott ($20 off a $40 order, so we each got $20 of plants for $10—I got Lilies of the Valley, Delphiniums, and Coreopsis), and I've got a pretty decent showing of flowery goodness.

My plan is to plant the daffodils and the full-sun-to-partial-shade plants under the small tree in our front yard. The must-have-full-sun plants will go around the mailbox. The shady front of the house is reserved for the Lilies of the Valley, which will apparently grow most anywhere, in varying degrees of sunlight and surviving varying degrees of watering neglect. Now that's my kind of plant.

I don't have a good track record with outdoor plants, so I'll keep you posted on how they do. Once I get them planted (hopefully this weekend), maybe I'll take some pictures... although they won't be much to look at yet.

Maybe I won't kill all my plants this year. Maybe things will bloom and grow and things will be keen.

*crosses fingers*

P.S. - The rose I thought I'd killed by not covering it over the winter seems to be springing back. I wonder if it'll bloom this year.

Communing With Nature

Today, I decided to go outside and enjoy the fall weather by reading at the picnic table for a while during my lunch break. While I was sitting there, engrossed by The Stand, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked over—and there was a squirrel. On the bench. With a nut in his mouth. Looking at me. We just sat there, looking at each other, for a long moment before he finally decided to go bury his nut somewhere.

And more nature stuff... instead of turning on the computer immediately after dinner and the news this evening, I ended up moving my near-dead Mums from the front yard to the back yard and planting my Roses of Sharon into individual pots. I had nine Roses of Sharon (aka Althea) all together, although two of them had rooted together so closely that I just potted them together. Most have fairly decent root systems—say, the size of a golf ball with random tendrils—but one had a nice softball-sized rootball, and one was surviving on a single solitary root strand. I have eight pots in all: two I left outside to brave the winter, one I put in the kitchen, and five are in the library/media room upstairs. Hopefully the cat won't knock them over like she did my damn begonia.

After I got done potting, I got a hair up my ass to organize the boxes we have in the garage. Now it doesn't look quite as ghetto... but it's still pretty ghetto. I mean, our shelves of gardening supplies are the orange and blue milk crates that were once my bookshelves in college. Our lawn chairs are sitting on top of the old-school mower. There are packing peanuts on the floor. But now, at least, there aren't quite as many empty boxes sitting in the back of the garage.

Gardening, Take Two

When we moved into our house over six months ago, I had grand dreams of outdoor gardens and flowering nooks and crannies everywhere. I fantasized about a back garden that would make all who saw it envious of my mad gardening skillz. Back in early May, when I first began this undertaking, I had said:

I have planned: lavender, hydrangea, coral roses, yellow roses, ground cover in front of said roses, a rose of sharon, forsythia, catmint, more lavender, and butterfly bush. In front there, on the curve where there's still a bit of dirt with no plants, that's where the herbs go. Three varieties of basil, parsley, catnip, creeping thyme, coriander/cilantro, and whatever else tickles my fancy.

Alas, the only plants still thriving from my $100 Gardenland shopping spree (which did not include all of the above) are an out-of-control basil plant that's nearly knee-high, three double impatiens, and my rosebush. The lavender's trying to die on me, the cilantro and sage are long gone, as are the dwarf hydrangeas, and the pearlwort has shriveled into little brown flowerless carpets. No, this is not the onset of Autumn—this is my utter neglect and my poor landscape planning.

I feel like our back yard is some bizarre cross between a blank canvas and a complex logic problem. Now that I know where things grow and where they don't, I have a better idea of what could go where. Instead of planting a giant flower garden by the house, under the heavy shade of the maple tree, perhaps some packed gravel and a picnic table would go better. Maybe some small flowering ground cover would go well by the back door, where that almost-back-step courtesy slab sits. You know, the I-don't-have-a-back-porch square of concrete? Next to that thing, on either side. And perhaps a good place for a flower garden would be in the corner where we just planted grass—but just around the corner there, in a little curve, instead of a giant block of flowery insanity.

As for the front, under the overhang of our tri-level house, God only knows what will finally live there. Something that can stand drought and shade (since I frequently forget to water my outdoor plants). The impatiens did fairly well; but they're only annuals, and I have a problem with buying the same damn plants every year.

First, though, maybe we ought to think about de-thatching and fertilizing and weeding and overseeding our lawn. It needs some serious work. Then we can build from there.

This Evening

This evening, at the behest of Sheryl, I went for a walk around the 'hood. Not a particularly brisk walk—probably 2? mph or so—but I made sure to flex my toes and get my marching muscles going. Stayed out walking for half an hour, and upon my return home, didn't want to go back inside yet (as usual). So, I weeded and watered my front flowerbed. Then I watered the back (with my watering can, as we only have one hose, and it's currently attached to the spigot out front).

Upon noting the sorry state of my outdoor plants, I have decided that I need to take walks more often, for the sake of my poor plants.

And now for something completely different: I have coughed my throat raw today. Ow.

And finally: wonder why I think popular music today sucks? Turn up the speakers and widen the stereo spread for a little experiment.

Garden Ho...?

Well, we've finally started planting. I've documented the weekend's progress in the Gardening section of the.details, along with more pics. As I spent $40+ on plants, Aaron spent $50, and we both spent our weekend afternoons on the project(s), it would be keen if you'd check it out.

I'll give you more updates on the garden as I get more stuff in it... or as stuff either blooms or dies. :-)

Initial Planning and Preparation

Want to see what almost $100 and several hours of yardwork will accomplish?

On Saturday, Aaron gave me my anniversary present of a $50 gift certificate to Gardenland. Yay! So, off we went on a plant shopping spree. First, though, we stopped at Lowe's and picked up the flowers you see here (left).

The white flowers are Double Impatiens—they're an annual, which means they'll only live for this year, but I may try my hand at collecting their seeds and replanting them next year.

The pink flowers are Dwarf Hydrangeas, and those are perennials. They ain't goin' nowhere (unless I kill them).

The green patches of ground cover are Pearlwort. Although you can't really tell yet, they have tiny white flowers that sprout from the green growth. I'd like to get some more of these and actually cover the entire area around the flowers (where there's currently only dirt).

We planted these on Saturday afternoon, before the rain hit. We also trimmed down the shrubs in the right of the picture from being the size of small trees to being large bushes.

On Sunday, we tackled the rest of the planting. Actually, I tackled the back garden while Aaron hacked down the overgrown tree-bush next to the garage.

After preparing the flowerbed (which I did rather hastily, IMO, in a fashion that would probably make most gardeners and landscapers cringe), I planted the first round of herbs purchased at Gardenland on Saturday. Top row left to right are Lavender and two Sage plants. Bottom row left to right are two Coriander / Cilantro plants and a Sweet Basil. Yes, the plants are supposed to spread and get quite a bit larger, so don't worry. I'm hoping to put some more herbs in as I get the money to buy them: more varieties of Basil, some Catnip, some Mint, Parsley, Oregano, Creeping Thyme, etc, etc.

I also planted the rosebush we got on Saturday at Gardenland (see right). It's a Brandy, and will eventually have blooms of an interesting pinkish-coralish hue. It looks a little sad in this picture, but it'll get more grand soon. Hopefully.

While I was at it, I decided today would be a good time to attempt to transplant the shrubs growing in the teeny patch of dirt next to our back door. One of them was thorny, like it could be a rosebush, and the other had some attractive small purple flowers. So, I dug them up and put them into some now-vacant containers (see left). Hopefully they'll grow and thrive and I'll be able to plant them alongside my other plants in the garden.

Overall, I feel like this weekend was particularly productive. I hope our work pays off, and that I can get some more herbs and shrubs to plant this season.

My New Garden

This is a plan of my new garden.

The Better Homes and Gardens website kicks ass—they have this nifty Flash application that's kind of like the Tony Hawk Pro Skater park building feature, but with gardens. That's how I put this loverly design together.

This depicts my back yard, by the way. From left to right, I have planned: lavender, hydrangea, coral roses, yellow roses, ground cover in front of said roses, a rose of sharon, forsythia, catmint, more lavender, and butterfly bush. In front there, on the curve where there's still a bit of dirt with no plants, that's where the herbs go. Three varieties of basil, parsley, catnip, creeping thyme, coriander/cilantro, and whatever else tickles my fancy.

I'll provide photos when I have some stuff planted. Until then, wish me luck... I hope I haven't bitten off more than my little first-time-homeowner self can chew.

RIP MMB

Just got done "double-digging" a quarter of the flower garden. Basically, it's just turning over the soil, but doing it so that the dirt from Point A ends up at Point B, and vise versa. I was also pulling out roots and rocks as I went. Holy crap, that's a lotta roots. I only did that for half an hour or 45 minutes, but my hands are all tired and I feel like I've done some serious work. At least I'm a quarter of the way done, though—only three more days of double-digging. Then off to get some Miracle-Gro Garden Soil and mix that in. Then off to get some plants.

I was surfing around online just now, basically just wasting time, and discovered that bosstones.com is no longer active. Hmm. After a little Googling, I found a Mighty Mighty Bosstones fansite that says,

I'm sorry to inform you that this site is dead. The reason being is that The Mighty Mighty Bosstones have "Basically" split-up. In Technical Terms, they no longer are touring together. They are on "HIATUS", or so they say.

Projects:
Dicky Barrett - Announcer for Jimmy Kimmel Live - Catch him at 12:00 on ABC on weekdays
Other Band Members - They are taking time off to be with their families, and those without familes are touring with other bands like "Less Than Jake" and doing their own thing.

Wow. The boys have been together for nigh on 15 years (ten if you only include the quasi-original lineup that split a few years back), and they finally decided to take a breather. (Kind of like Catherine Wheel, who has been "parked" for the past three or four years.) Anyway, another site's forum gives indication that this has been in the works for a year and a half now. Damn, I've been out of the loop.

And, as a side note, pages with white text on a black background hurt my eyes after a while.

Happy Plants

There's some flowering bushes in the backyard of our apartment here. Someone once told me it was called a Rose of Sharon, and a little online research proved her correct. Anyway, I decided when I first saw them bloom that I love those bushes, and I decided to attempt cuttings to take with me to the new house.

A couple of weeks ago (or maybe it was last week), I made probably almost two dozen cuttings of this plant, all of various thicknesses, about six to eight inches long apiece. I planted about ten of them in a big pot full of perlite—that white, styrofoamy, pebbley substance. I covered them with plastic to keep the moisture in, placed them by a not-too-drafty window, and I've been dutifully watering them every day.

I peeked through the plastic (wax paper, actually) today to see if anything was happening... and some of the twigs are growing buds! Little green leaf buds. How about that! They're not dead... yet. We'll see if they actually root in a couple of months.

Until then, I also have another bundle of cuttings lying dormant in the refrigerator, ready to be planted outside to attempt rooting a different way. One way or another, I'm going to have a Rose of Sharon. Oh, yes. It will be mine.

Landscaping and other randomness

I gave some more thought to landscaping the house today at work, and over lunch I drew our a couple plans for the front flower bed. I was thinking, for anyone into the whole HGTV-ish gardeny landscapey thing, that first we could hack down the overgrown bushes in the front to normal bush size. Then, I plan to mix some purple and some white flowering plants along with some white flowering ground cover, so as not to cover up the windows. I do have some ideas of flowers I'd like to use, like Lavender, Petunias, and Christmas Roses, among others that I haven't decided on yet. The trick is going to be finding just the look I want, with flowers that like the shade, since it's beneath an overhang on the north side of the house. I was also hoping to plant some stuff that blooms at different times, so there'll always be some color out there... but that might be a little beyond my scope. Maybe I'll save the rotating garden concept for when I tackle a backyard flower garden...

OK, girlie time is over. *whew*

The dude upstairs came home after I got back from my walk this evening (enjoying the weather), and proceeded to turn up his stereo. He doesn't do it often, but it's annoying when he does. So, I proceeded to fill my 5-CD changer with stuff—nothing too overbearing, though. Peter Gabriel's latest, and Catherine Wheel's last album, and 24 Gone (their only album), and Depeche Mode's most recent album (I'm seeing a trend), and the Cure Acoustic Hits (which I think was their latest release, too. Weird). It's turned up a little louder than I would normally keep it, but it's by no means blasting. Just loud enough to drown out whatever music he decides to turn up every now and then.

That got me to thinking... I kind of miss college, but not really. I miss it in that pleasant nostalgic way, where the memories are fun to look back on (like radio wars, which is how my brain got from there to here). Not the kind of missing where I would want to do it again. Not like drumcorps.

Speaking of... I've been practicing more this week, when the upstairs dude isn't home—more out of a need not to embarrass myself than to be considerate. :-) I've been getting better, and my relative pitch and pitch memory seems to be returning slowly but surely. The muscle memory is sort of there, but the endurance isn't. I've been practing for about a half hour every day this week, doing a slow warm-up to try to rebuild my range (which wasn't that stellar to begin with). After I warm up, I have about enough stamina and concentration to play through the warm-up tune once, the ballad twice, and to woodshed the march. Then I'm done, and I warm down with some pedal tones (reeeally low notes).

I'm also recalling why I stopped being a music major: I hate to practice. If I'm going to do this, though, I'll have to crack down. Senior corps doesn't coddle like Junior corps—and I can't believe I can think of it like that now. It was so physically exhausting... but everything was planned out and served to you, from your rehearsals to your meals to your everything. Now, in senior corps, I'm going to have to practice on my own time, and hype for shows and parades on the weekends only. It's a lot easier when it's your entire life for three months. I hope I've still got what it takes. We'll see.

And on a final note: On the front of my package of round Avery labels, the generic name on the pictured envelope is Tyler Durden.

"In the ear?! Why'd you have to hit me in the ear?"