Sometimes it just feels as if I’m on a downhill runaway train!
So if it seems that I have been ignoring my Bumblebee Blog here, it’s not because I haven’t been thinking about it.
As some of my friends know, I am now writing a garden column at Examiner.com, the growing national news service. Learning the Examiner process, developing my editorial calendar and identifying sources and resources has taken time. Little things such as work (I have a job!), other writing projects, family vacations, house guests, family emergencies and nearly cutting off my finger with my uber-sharp Felco pruners–twice–have also been major time suckers.
But the flowers and veggies here at Bumblebee continue to grow, as do the weeds. In fact, I’m still trying to get back on top of the weeds that sought world domination while I had the nerve to go on a week-long family vacation.
In the Colonial theme garden, where I do my most intensive gardening, I decided to experiment with some new veggies this year, including tomatillos, blackeyed peas and a wider variety of heirloom tomatoes, including Paul Robeson, Black Sara, Goose Creek and Cherokee Purple. I’m also growing pattypan and crookneck squash, malabar spinach, strawberries, all kinds of peppers and herbs.
I’m happy with the decision to add more flowers in containers in the theme garden. They add more color than I can squeeze into the beds and it also forces me to head out with the water hose every day since container plants dry out so quickly.
I have started another garden area that we are currently calling the North Garden. It used to be the Poop Garden because that’s where our old dog Winifred used to, well, you know. Winifred has been gone for a few years now, so I figure it’s safe to expand our vegetable growing in a spot that she used for her own production.
Frankly, I’m still struggling with the organization and plant content of the North Garden, so I’m not really ready to post photos. But I will before the end of summer, if only so you can shake your heads and feel sad for how miserably I’ve failed.
Now that I’m writing a column over at Examiner, my posts here in Bumblebee will be largely
Thanks for visiting. Drop me a line or comment and let me know how your garden is doing.
Ciao!
Robin
When I was a (more) novice gardener, I made the mistake…
…of thinking that the tiny butterfly bush I dragged home from my local garden center couldn’t possibly grow to be 12 feet high as the tag described. I though that perhaps other people’s butterfly bushes might get that big, but mine surely wouldn’t. The hardpan Maryland clay, my relative inexperience or a host of potential perils would surely prevent 12 feet of unfettered growth.
Five years have proven me quite wrong.
I have spent three years staring at amazement as the bush that I religiously hack to about three feet of sticks in the fall burst back to life and grow to nearly 12 feet by June. The butterfly bush has been threatening to overtake the two Nikko Blue Hydrangeas planted on either side.
In fact, the butterfly bush has grown so unwieldy that I planned on having Walter, my sometimes handyman, dig up the beast and move it to a more suitable location. Unfortunately, Walter was a little late in arriving this year and the bush was already in full leaf–not a good time for a major move.
We’ll be living with the monster butterfly bush again this year. The beauty of it, though, is that with all the blooms, the bush attracts dozens of butterflies at any time. The don’t call it a butterfly bush without a good reason. I can look out my kitchen window and see butterflies any time of the day.
It’s hard to beat that. And I’ll certainly miss that nature show when the butterfly bush is finally moved to roomier quarters.
Robin
I was never able to measure up in the ’80s when big hair was in.
I have baby fine, straight hair. All my exertions with perms, hot hair dryers, roller brushes and sprays only emphasized my genetic shortcomings when it came to creating big hair.
Fortunately, I don’t have to rely on my shallow gene pool to create an abundant look in the garden. All I need is a good deal of compost, flowers and patience.
Sometimes though, my garden seems to be a black hole. I can’t tell you how many truckloads of compost I had added to this hardpan Maryland clay soil. As for the flowers, I keep planting and planting to achieve the riotous abundant look I adore in the cottage garden magazines and books.
Don’t get me wrong. The plants grow just fine, but there seems to be an endless amount of room for more shoving in of more plants.
The problem is that it’s expensive to buy perennials in huge quantities, so I also try to start from seed, sometimes indoors and sometimes just direct seeding. And I don’t know what will bloom when around here until I live with it for a while. That means that I have to live with a flower for at least a year, maybe two, until I really get a sense of its habits and behaviors. The I have to engage in quite a lot of moving things about.
Still…I think it’s worth it.
Lavender, lamb’s ear and astilbe border
See here. I didn’t mind weeding around the lavender in the cool hours this morning. The scent is glorious. And I rather think it looks as if I had a plan when I put the lavender, astilbe and lamb’s ear together. In truth, I had no idea they would bloom at the same time. It was just serendipity.
You would never know that this very bed used to be a swampy low spot in the yard that collected water after rains. Copious amounts of compost and deep digging solved that problem.
Thyme, pink vinca, rose campion and ice plant
And here. Although I complain about the rose campion, I do think it looks rather at home with the other pink flowers in this border. Serendipity again.
Orange coneflower, red hot poker and ?? (Sheesh, help me with this purple flower someone )
How about the orange cone flower and red hot poker? When I dragged the cone flower home from my local garden center I had no idea where I planned to put it. But the bald spot behind this red hot poker was just crying for a plant. I had no idea they would bloom together.
(By the way, I started these little purple jobs from seed last year. I have purple and white flowers like this EVERYWHERE. I cannot find the seed package. Please, someone enlighten me. I’m quite sure it’s a hideously common flower, so just stop laughing and kindly post me a comment or send me an email with the name.)
So tomorrow I head out to the garden center once again in my quest for the abundant look. Frankly, it’s much more satisfying that all that time dinking around with my hair “back in the day.”
Robin
