Archive for the ‘Trees’ Category

I think trees should pull their own weight in the garden, don’t you?

I mean, it’s all well and good to be tall and green, providing all shorts of cooling shade and places for the bugs and birds. But if you can do tricks, like make berries and flowers to brighten things up a bit, you’re a really special tree, yes?

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That’s why I like the Winter King Hawthorn. Many people have never heard of these trees. In fact, two seasons out of the year, in particular, the Fed Ex and UPS drivers, the electric company meter reader and whoever else wanders down our long driveway ask me what kind of trees these are. That’s because in those two seasons, the trees are putting on a show to grab your attention.

They are Winter King Hawthorns.

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In the spring, the trees are covered in clusters of white flowers. In the fall, red berries hang on for weeks after the leaves have dropped, looking like tiny Christmas ornaments. They hang there until the birds devour them. This year, it was the Evening Grosbeaks that cleaned off the trees–and made my day!

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I had never heard of the Winter King Hawthorn before these trees arrived in my life. Six years ago I was a novice gardener and was hard-pressed to tell you if a tree was an oak or maple. But an enterprising and charming nurseryman convinced me that I needed not one, not two, but TWENTY of these trees, since they only grow to about20’to35’in height. He showed me a very unimpressive specimen in the nursery but dragged out books filled with pictures of flowering and berried trees to convince me to pull out my checkbook.

The first couple of years they after they were planted I wondered if they would even survive in the not very hospitable environment next to the driveway—hard clay soil, competing trees, a hayfield and a not very careful equipment driver of the hay harvesting equipment were all hazards.

Then we had summers with drought. Since the hoses can’t possibly reach that far and I don’t have a water tank on my farm pickup truck, I have shuttled bucket after bucket after bucket of water up and down the driveway to keep them alive.(I did not go to the gym those days, but checked off both cardio AND weightlifting in my daily diary.)

Now, six years later, only two of the trees have gone to the great forest in the sky. Both were victims of Rudy, our tobacco chewing farmer who harvests the hay.

Now that I know the trees will, indeed, survive, I feel more comfortable clipping a few branches to bring indoors. Today’s arrangement includes a small Southern Magnolia branch that was hanging too low and always got caught in my mower.

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As beautiful and useful as these trees are—creating flowers and yummy berries for the birds—they can be dangerous. They put the “thorn” in “Hawthorn.” These thorns are nearly2”long and are as sharp as needles. Flower arranging with these babies is not a feat for the faint of heart.

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But oh, what a sight. It’s truly a king of trees.

Interested in Winter King Hawthorns? Check out the fabulous birds they attract here.


Robin

Right Now at Bumblebee

May 1st, 2012

May Day! May Day!

Calm down. No one’s in distress here by the Chesapeake Bay. It’s just May 1—May Day!

A little trip over to Wikipedia enlightened me about this very special day. Apparently (although I did not pull out my calendar to fact check), May 1 is exactly half a year from November 1. (*head slap*) Wikipedia did not say that May 2 is exactly half a year from November 2, so I wondered why this was really relevant or even interesting. Well, turns out that both May 1 and November 1 are raucous pagan holidays. Where are the silly string and funny hats?

And right there in the first paragraph of the Wikipedia article it says, “May 1 is…usually a public holiday.”

Seriously? Cause no one told my boss (aka me). No one told my husband’s boss (aka Uncle Sam). I bet your boss didn’t tell you either. Surely there is a conspiracy afoot.

So, since we’re all working on a holiday—because Wikipedia says it’s so—let’s get some cupcakes and go sit in the garden, okay?

See you there.

April 30th, 2012

It was a bad day Chez Bumblebee.

First, the chicken flock is very put out that I decided not to indulge their daily afternoon walkabout routine. They complained loudly when I went out to the coop to explain to them that I did not feel like walking around behind seven naughty chickens dislodging newly planted seedlings and poking said seedlings back into their designated holes.

Second, our antique cat, Miss P, was very put out that I decided to vacuum up copious amounts of dog hair for the third time in about seven days, thereby disrupting a perfectly good 23.75-hour nap.

And third, the little dogs are running around like rabid squirrels because I haven’t yet fed them their “special dinner” and am instead sitting here typing about how the other animals are all put out with me.

The end.

Robin

April 4th, 2012

Today I am grateful that in this country I have the opportunity to voice my opinion without fear of being imprisoned, tortured or having my house burned down and family beaten.

I am grateful for the opportunity yesterday to work with a very kind and gentle photographer who didn’t dismiss my opinions and ideas and who worked with me as a partner on a new book photo shoot.

I am also happy and grateful for yet another beautiful day in Southern Maryland. You should come and visit.

Robin

March 28th, 2012

My heart has had a roller coaster ride the past couple of weeks. People and pets I love have gone through major surgery and are, happily, recovering. My pet I will tell you about…

Sophie is the older of my two Papillons. She has always had a bit of a breathing problem, but as the years and middle-aged weight gain have crept up on her, breathing has become a major issue.

We visited a veterinary surgeon a couple of weeks ago. Sophie was operated on for an elongated soft palate and a collapsed pharynx. The surgeon could not repair her collapsed trachea, a condition that will require a different veterinarian at a different hospital far away.

We wake at night and listen to her breathe. A couple of nights after surgery, at about 3 in the morning, she seemed to stop breathing. Yes, I was listening to every single rasping breath. I snaked my hand out from under the covers to touch her and ensure she was alive. I found my husband’s hand doing the exact same thing as our hands met in the dark.

Sophie was alive. And she’s not in this alone. She is much loved.

Robin

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Garden and food writer Robin Ripley is co-author of Grocery Gardening and has a cookbook in development. Bumblebee is about her life in rural Maryland, her garden, cooking, dogs and pet chickens. She also blogs about food and chickens at Eggs & Chickens.

She is on Twitter @robinripley Welcome! Thank you for visiting.

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