Did someone shorten the days—like make them 18 hours rather than 24? Because it seems as if I have less time than ever and I’m wondering what I’m doing wrong. Work has been very busy lately, which has put a cap on the amount of time I can spend in the garden. But it is spring, after all, and some things just can’t wait.
The vegetable garden is mostly in. Now that he’s learned to use the chain saw, Harry is happily doing some small clearing along the edges of the driveway. He contributed three mimosa tree trunks that he dug in and I have strung with twine through eye hooks to serve as a trellis for the cucumbers. I think it’s rustic looking and rather like it. But a couple of weeks ago some workmen who were here asked me why I had planted those trees like that in my garden! Perhaps when the vines start to cover the twine it’ll be apparent that the trees are actually posts. Or maybe not. What do you think?
We widened the existing daylily border by the potager. The border is now home to some rampant columbines that threatened to take over the herb bed, supplemented with some alyssum, superbells and osteospermum. Over time I’ll add or relocate perennials to this border, but for now the annuals are providing some color.
In the front of the house, the hellebores are still blooming. They have seeded prolifically and I’ve been moving little baby hellebores to other shady parts of the yard.
Our strawberry patch has really taken off this year. Early this spring the patch was fairly crowded, as the daughters these ‘Jubilee’ strawberries had taken up residence. I dug and dug and gave away probably 50 or 75 of the plants. They’re probably still a little crowded, but they don’t seem to mind, as there is a bumper crop in progress. We eat strawberries constantly. As I write this the house is filled with the smell of strawberries. While I work today, the oven will slow cook the strawberries for ten hours on a very low heat. Later this evening, I’ll finish canning and processing them for strawberry jam.
I don’t have all the containers planted, but some are finished. The window boxes on the back deck are filled with pale yellow petunias, coleus ‘Inky Fingers,’ and asparagus fern. I know a lot of people dislike petunias—and they are terribly over-used—but I love the pale yellow color of these and appreciate how they bloom reliably all summer long. Daily deadheading is one of my favorite activities because I can just step outside the back door, snip, snip, snip and not even break a sweat. And what a difference it makes in the number of blooms!
And finally is this little closeup detail…just because I like it…
Robin
The spring days grow longer and warmer. Of course, it’s welcomed. Still, the precious bit of time at the end of the work day that I can spend watering, weeding, moving plants, starting new plants, potting up containers, is never enough. I have big plans for the summer of 2010. Where will I find the time? And the energy?
The side garden near the chicken coop—where we sit on the bright green Swedish bench to watch Chicken TV—is a major project. It was a long-neglected area that we once referred to as Winifred’s Poop Garden because of its liberal use by our now-deceased Belgian Malinois.
Last year I divided variegated hostas and supplemented them with ‘Sun and Substance’ and a couple of ‘Blue Angel’ hostas. The slugs love the variegated hostas, so they’ll slowly be replaced with other plants. Several tiarella, or foam flowers, have gone in. Twenty more are on the way. I’m keeping my eyes open for more dramatic, thick-leafed hostas that Mr. McGregor’s Daughter tells me will be more slug-resistant so I can toss the variegated slug bait to the chickens.
Trying to establish a little green bit of lawn in front of the bench where the two little Papillons can lounge has been a struggle. It was looking pretty good last summer, but the snow plows did severe damage as they piled 5-foot tall walls of snow in the area this winter. The chickens are attracted to the fresh soil when they’re on walkabout and have managed to dig up the tiny grass seedlings I’ve been nursing. Now I’m thinking I’ll transplant more of the creeping Jenny from other parts of the yard to create a different kind of ground cover.
In the front of the house—a shady, north-facing exposure, the ‘Encore’ azaleas are blooming despite severe damage from the heavy snow. The hellebores have been casting off seedlings for a couple of years now and I will be moving them over to the woodland garden sometime this summer.
In the potager, the angelica anemones are blooming. I must figure out a plan for them, as they re-seed prolifically and clog up my garden paths. I feel guilty pulling them up like weeds, but what is a gardener to do? One must have paths!
I continue to be amazed by the simple little yellow pansies that I had planted in window boxes last fall. They hibernated under a couple of feet of snow and snuck out small blossoms despite the cold. Now they’ve roared back to life. I need to re-plant the window boxes, but the pansies look so vibrant and healthy, I’m temporarily relocating some of them into other containers.
I continue to tell myself to put one foot in front of the other and to stop to enjoy the sound of the birds and the beauty of spring. After all, the work is for a reason. Right?
Robin
Every spring since I started gardening, I reach the point at least once when I feel so overwhelmed by what has to be done that I seriously think about sitting down for a nice, long boo-hoo.
There just isn’t enough time to clean it all up! I don’t have enough energy for all of this! Everything is asleep and it’s difficult to imagine a garden springing up from the ravages of winter.
Thankfully, Mother Nature usually kicks in about this time and starts presenting small gifts. The hellebores climb out of the rotting leaves and from under the snow with profusions of blooms.
Helleborus x hybridus 'Kingston Cardinal'
The daffodils poke their heads up and begin to bloom.
The tulips aren’t far behind.
Garlic that I planted back in the fall is growing. And it’s safe to put out the lettuce starts.
And it all begins to look hopeful and (Dare I say it?) pretty after all.
Robin
