Beauty & the Barrel

In response to all the interest and questions about my new rainbarrel, here are the details. My Very Indulgent Spouse (VIS) ordered this rainbarrel from Gardener's Supply Company and gave it to me for Christmas. We had to wait until spring to put it up. As with any rainbarrel, it's best to have it slightly elevated so that it is easier to get a watering can under the spigot near the bottom. This 65-gallon rainbarrel also has a hose with a shut off valve attached to an outlet on the bottom of the rainbarrel. VIS sawed off the downspout and helped me attach the hose. The top of this rainbarrel has a small planter into which I had to drill drainage holes. I don't think I'll put any plants in there unless it is a succulent, as the planter isn't very deep. I haven't had a chance to try out the spigot or the hose yet, as it's been raining. Often.

All that rain has benefited the woodland garden. It is now filled with flowers and foliage. The native wildflower Dodecatheon media alba (Shooting Star) is in bud.Next to it, the native Dutchman's Breeches (Dicentra cucullaria) is in full bloom.I wish it wasn't ephemeral, as it has such wonderful foliage. The other Dicentras have also started blooming. This is 'King of Hearts,'and this is 'Zestful.'Neither of these is ephemeral, but instead will bloom throughout the summer.
The last of the Daffodils have bloomed.Pictured here from left to right are 'Mt. Hood,' 'Stainless,' and 'Honeybird.' Under the Crabapple Tree, which is full of buds, is the latest of all, Narcissus 'La Vie En Rose.'I hope it fades completely before the Crabapple blooms, as the color of the cup clashes horribly with the pink of the Crabapple flowers.
The pink of the foliage of Polemium reptans 'Stairway to Heaven'matches the stem of Clematis viticella 'Venosa Violacea.'

Epimedium 'Lilafee'

Some people think them weeds, but I love the little Violets in the lawn.After all, it's our State Flower.
What is turning out to be a weed is Anemone nemorosa.A very pretty thing, but it chokes out other plants, and then goes dormant, leaving a large blank space in the border.
Out front, the Flowering Quince (Chaenomeles speciosa unknown) is, well, flowering.I drastically cut it back early in spring, and I'll be training it into an espalier (hopefully). It was already here when I bought Squirrelhaven, and had become massively overgrown.

It's fitting that it is raining as April takes its bow. This has been a very good April here, one of the best. I'm sad to see it go, but there's much to look forward to in May, which Carol considers the best month of the year here in the Midwest.

The Relativity of Time

It isn't often in life that we encounter perfection, and it seems even less likely around here, where things rarely go smoothly. So any small bits of perfection are treasured all the more, savored and dwelled upon. There should be three clumps of these Sanguinaria 'Multiplex, but the squirrels dug them all up last summer. Fortunately, all three plants survived their trauma, but only one has bloomed. I captured this photo Friday morning. By Saturday, the secondary bud had also bloomed. Now, after 24 hours of very heavy weather, this is all gone, the flowers shattered and the petals spread across the ground.

Why is it, in spring, that times seems to go much faster than during any other season? In winter, time just drags, and in summer, one tires of the heat, humidity, and mosquitoes, and keeps checking the calendar. Autumn goes a bit faster than winter and summer, but nowhere near as quickly as spring. It's already the end of April, too late to start the seeds of some plants, too late for the Morton Arboretum plant sale (which I missed). One can almost see the trees leafing out, and the Daffodils and Pulmonaria are budding and blooming in a day. Already we've had a high temperature in the 80s.

I feel like shouting to the skies, Slow down! I need more time to enjoy my favorite season, instead of spending it all working. But that would be pointless, and so I treasure each little of gift of each perfect moment.

The Name Game - A Rant

Busy times here at Squirrelhaven.  In addition to the mulching and transplanting, it's also time to start visiting the local nurseries and garden centers.  Yesterday, I made a pilgrimage to The Growing Place, in Naperville.  They have such a great variety of plants, many very unusual.  For example, I just bought this Geranium labeled as 'Blue Sunrise.'  However, that is merely it's trademark name and, according to this website, is an invalid name.  The correct name is  'Verguld Saffier.'  It's also listed as Geranium 'Blogold.'  The name "Blue Sunrise," like the name "Diablo" for my Physocarpus 'Monlo,' is a tradename, part of a new trend to make plants more marketable.  I find it incredibly irritating, especially when the tradename is something cutesy, such as "Pinky Winky."  There is no way that I am buying any plant, even a great Hydrangea, with a name derived from a Teletubbies character.  That's a part of my life I am attempting to consign to the dustbin of memory loss.  I might consider buying a plant called Hydrangea paniculata 'DVPpinky,' as stupid as that name is.  Tradenames are trademarks, with a limited duration, so theoretically, at some point, if the person holding the trademark fails to reregister it, another plant of the same genus and species can be given that name, creating the potential for even more confusion in plant nomenclature.  Call me a curmudgeon, call me pedantic, call me a rebel against marketing,  I really could not possibly care less.  I'm digging in my heels on this one, and I will refer to plants by their registered names.  I just wish plant purveyors would at least list the registered name on the tag.  I had to search online to discover the true name of my new Geranium.  Thank goodness Tony Avent, of Plant Delights Nursery, always uses the registered name (to the exclusion of the tradename).  Like me, he despises the whole idea of tradenames.  See here for his well-researched and explained objections.

While I'm in rantmode, I may as well post these photos of really bad edging.  My parents paid money to someone to throw soil on top of their plants.  There really is no excuse for this.  It's one of the reasons I favor a mowing strip instead of a spaded edge. 

Finally, to leave on a lighter note, I took this photo at The Growing Place.The appeal is obvious.  The Tulips are protected by the invention of a suburban Chicagoan which is called "BunnyFence."  I bought one, but I haven't decided yet which plant gets the special treatment.  My problem this spring is more with deer than rabbits.  Maybe I'll test it out against deer.  

I went a little crazy yesterday and bought another Hellebore, but I just couldn't resist this one.It's a plant from the 'Ballerina Mix' of hybrid Hellebores, which is supposed to be of double blooms.  But, as with other seed strains of Hellebores, not all plants are as described.  More on this in a later post.

Oops! I forgot to include the link to the BunnyFence website.  Please click here for more information or if you want to order it. 

Earth Day 2009

Today is Earth Day, when we all think about things we can do to promote the health of the planet.  It's a bittersweet day, sad that there is a need for Earth Day at all. Once, the skies were always the clear blue shown in the above photo, but too often now, the skies in too many places are hazy and filled with pollution.  Our rivers and lakes are tainted with chemicals.  The good part is that we humans have finally realized the damage caused by the past 150 or so years of industrialization, and we are starting to attempt to remediate the damage.  

Here are some things I've done to think globally and act locally:

I've reduced the size of the lawn

and replaced it with natives and well-behaved exotics that can get by on less moisture and don't need to be mowed every week;

planted trees and maintained the existing trees to provide cooling for people;

planted native plants to provide food and shelter for wildlife, and to avoid the need for fertilizers;
and, most recently, got a rainbarrel

to reduce my reliance on the limited aquifers that supply water to my village.   During the drought of 2005, my village imposed a complete ban on watering.  I was limited to hauling the dehumidifier water and the water from the shower up stairs and outside in a bucket.  I'll still be doing that, but if I had had a rainbarrel back then, I might have been able to save a couple of shrubs that died from drought.  One thing I don't have is a raingarden, which may seem surprising until you take into account the incredibly well-drained nature of my soil.  It's rare to find a puddle in the garden or lawn, even after that deluge last September.  Someday, I hope to replace the asphalt of the driveway with permeable pavers.  That would reduce the sole source of runoff from the property.

There's plenty of room for improvement here; I'm definitely not any competition for Ed Begley, Jr.  However, little things in aggregate can have a big impact.  Happy Earth Day!

Native Plants in the Landscape

I just couldn't resist the challenge issued by the folks at Gardening Gone Wild to post a photo of a native plant in a garden setting, as part of a photo contest. Selecting the photo was very easy. I took this photo last summer at Deep Cut Perennial Nursery, when I went to their Bloomfest with the girl. I was just in awe of the gorgeous display gardens there. After turning a corner, my eye lit on this area of Zinnias interplanted with Solidago and backed up by a beautiful Sumac (which I believe is a Cutleaf Staghorn Sumac (Rhus typhina 'Bailtiger' (Tiger Eyes)). While the Zinnias aren't native, the other two plants are. I loved the juxtaposition of what I consider wild plants with a piece of classical statuary. It didn't hurt that the color scheme is one of my favorites, chartreuse and magenta.

And now, other photos of native plants from the garden yesterday. These are some of my favorite plants.Hepatica nobilis var. obtusa, which looks purple when closed and blue when open in the sun.

I love the feel of the ferny foliage of Dutchman's Breeches (Dicentra cucullaria).

Mayapples (Podophyllum peltatum) look so odd before they open their umbrella-like foliage.

The foliage of Anemonella (Thalictrum thalictroides) emerges burgundy, but will gradually turn green.

It's hard to believe that these little shoots of Solomon's Seal (Polyganatum biflorum/commutatum) will soar to over four feet tall. Like the Anemonella foliage, the foliage of Geranium maculatum starts off burgundy and turns green, but unlike the Anemonella, the Geranium foliage turns bright red in autumn.

The freakiest plant in my garden, Caulophyllum thalictroides or Blue Cohosh, has just started blooming. This plant, and the others pictured here, make me smile. There's just something so uplifting about the sight of native plants emerging from the earth in spring and spreading their foliage like the wings of birds about to fly.

April Bloom Day (Now With Ephemerals!)

The wheel has turned the 30-day circle again, bringing us to another Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, when Carol, of May Dreams Gardens, asks us to show off what's blooming in our gardens. To put it bluntly, this spring has been really lousy, with snow and cold. But crummy weather can't hold back the tide of sturdy spring bloomers. Despite all that, things are further along this year than last April (see here and here).

All the late winter/earliest spring flowers from last month are gone, but the promise of buds from last month has been fulfilled. To save loading time, I've put together a slide show. I've tried to include more shots of the plants in the garden, and not just closeups.

All the plants are growing outside except for the potted Pelargonium that managed to survive the winter in the house. It will again spend the summer outside. (That's my secret to houseplant survival: leave them outside as long as possible.) Happy Bloom Day!

Update: the clouds finally cleared, so here is a collage of things open in the sun.Clockwise from top left, Forsythia with Hepatica nobilis var. obtusa, Erythronium dens canis 'Purple King,' Erythronium albidum, and Anemone nemorosa.

(3:06 p.m., 4/15/09: the Magnolia flowers have just opened.)

Easter Parade

Just in time for Easter, the flowers are suddenly coming into bloom. I injured a finger (please don't ask!), and am having difficulty typing, so I'll let the photos speak for themselves.






Happy Easter!

It's a Blooming Party in the Garden

As late winter flowers give way to early spring blooms, Crocus 'Princess Beatrix' is strutting her stuff in a bulb Conga line. Although the Crocuses are now on the way out, the Scilla siberica are poised to take over the dance floor.

The first of Squirrelhaven's Daffodils has bloomed.This is 'Little Beauty,' a miniature in height and flower size.
The little native sedge, Carex pennsylvanica, is blooming now too.Like Narcisuss 'Little Beauty,' it's also under 6 inches tall.
Now in full bloom is the native Hepatica nobilis var. acuta (f/k/a Hepatica acutiloba).I just noticed that the flowers are not pure white, but have a wash of purple on them. The flowers open wide only in full sun, closing at night and on cloudy days. Because the leaves persist through the winter, I cut them off before the bloom stalks start to emerge. This Hepatica is the earliest of the wildflowers, but H. nobilis var. obtusa, Thalictrum/Anemonella thalictroides 'Rosea,' and Sanguinaria canadensis are all about to bloom. It won't be long before they are joined by the Bluebells, Mertensia virginica.

It's Hellebore season at Squirrelhaven, and, once again, the Christmas Rose, Helleborus niger, has managed not to embarrass itself completely by blooming first (and before the end of Lent).But just barely, as the orientalis hybrids have also started blooming. They are embarrassed this year, as they failed to live up to their common name, Lenten Rose. The first of these is always this unnamed one.I can't decide if it is pale yellow or off white. The flowers turn pale green as they age.

Most of the Lamium maculatum are getting kicked out of the party. I'm tired of plants getting swamped by it and of how it looks at the end of winter.Pretty hideous, eh? (You've got to love a good oxymoron.) I've pulled it out of the south end of the Long Border, which will now be getting full sun with the demise of the neighbor's overhanging Boxelder. Here's what it looked like after I ripped it all out.That was a lot of Lamium. I've sown some lettuce seeds there for my new experiment with interplanting veggies with ornamentals. I think this area needs a few more Daffodils. I could swear there used to be more of them. Two's only company, and I need a crowd, if not a host of the silly things to have a proper party.

The Journey of a Thousand Miles

Is it possible, can it really be that a year has passed since my plane touched down in Austin, Texas, late on a Friday afternoon?  When I realized that my delayed flight was going to make me late for dinner, I called Garden Bloggers' Spring Fling organizer Pam on her cell phone.  She told me not to worry and assured me that everyone would still be at the restaurant.  When I walked into the room, I was surprised at how it appeared that everyone already knew each other.  The truth is, that they didn't, and from the moment I joined the group of bloggers assembled for the first Garden Bloggers' Spring Fling, it was fun times and continuous conversations, making strangers into instant friends.  

Melissa of Zanthan Gardens was my ride and de facto guide for most of the day Saturday.  Touring the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center with so many other gardeners was awesome.Even better was sitting in the shade on the back porch in a private garden, just hanging out with my new pals.  But the highlight of Spring Fling was the gathering at Pam's house.  It is such a treat to see in person a garden one has read about and come to know.  Pam's garden was quite a surprise, as it was much smaller than it appeared.  Then there were the discussions of blogging that were so fascinating and touching.  Connecting with other bloggers was such a special thing.  I was so moved, I actually agreed to have Chicago host this year's Spring Fling.

For those of you planning to attend this year's Spring Fling in Chicago, I have a word of advice:  please learn from my mistake last year and be sure to bring an extra picture card for your camera.  I ran out of room on mine and had to miss out on some great photo opportunities.  I've already got my spare card in my camera bag.  I'm looking forward to being reunited with friends from last year's Spring Fling, and to meeting friends for the first time.  If any of you want to visit my garden, Squirrelhaven, please contact me and we'll make arrangements.  And for those of you not coming to Spring Fling, if you are ever in the Chicago area with time to spare, you are always welcome to come visit me at Squirrelhaven.

Garden Mysteries

Where's Hercule Poirot when you need him?  I have three mysteries in my garden that I want solved.  The first falls under IDRPS (I Don't Remember Planting This). (Edit. 4/3/09 D'oh! It's supposed to be IDRPT!)   Last fall, in the new Rose bed, I planted Alliums.  At least I thought they were Alliums. After the snow melted, I found this.I already had two other Alliums, Allium cernum and the purple drumstick one. This doesn't look like either of them.  It's supposed to be a ball-type Allium.  Is this what they look like when they first sprout?

The second mystery will be a bit harder to solve.  I had a bunch of tiny Daffodils, 'Little Beauty,' that I planted in the Woodland Garden.  The question is:  why, year after year, does only one of them bloom?I've treated them all the same.  It looks weird, and I don't like it.  Why won't the others bloom?  What's wrong with them?  Are they special, non-blooming Daffodils, prized for their foliage that got mixed in with one 'Little Beauty'?

Finally, what happened to all my 'Tete et Tete' Daffodils?   About 15 years ago, I planted a dozen of them together, and they used to all sprout and bloom.  (I have this great photo of the boy when he was a toddler in front of them.)  This is all that remains, one lonely little Daffodil, unable to have a Tete et Tete.Were all the others dug up by squirrels? That seems unlikely, as squirrels don't usually mess with Daffodils and I never saw any bulbs lying around. Did they all die?  If so, why?  And why didn't this one?  It looks silly blooming all by itself, but I don't know what to do about it, dig it up or plant more around it.  

Redbud update:  My little Redbud tree (Cercis canadensis) is once more vertical, but is now a bit more interesting after having been completely bent over by the snow.Whether that scoliosis is permanent, only time will tell.   At least it didn't break.

Deep Thoughts on Gardening

I've been inspired by Carol to seek the deeper, garden-related meaning of song lyrics, and I have found the motherlode in one of the songs of the Greatest Rock Band Ever, Queen.  And that song is the Greatest Song Ever Written, "Bohemian Rhapsody," by the late, great Freddie Mercury.

Listen to the song while reading along.

Is this the real life?

Is this just fantasy?

A garden is simply the expression of a gardener's fantasy.

Caught in a landslide

No escape from reality

But garden fantasies often come crashing down.

Open your eyes,

Look up to the skies and see

It's important to cast a critical eye over the entire garden, including it's "ceiling."

I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy,

Because I'm easy come, easy go, 

Little high, little low

Any way the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me

Gardeners just have to roll with the weather punches and take whatever comes.

Mama, just killed a man, 

Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he's dead

Mama, life had just begun,

But now I've gone and thrown it all away

Sometimes, we get a little too carried away with the pruning, and we end up destroying a shrub or tree.

Mama, ooh,

Didn't mean to make you cry,

If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,

Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters

After we make such a devastating mistake, sometimes we need to take a break from the garden.

Too late, my time has come, 

Sends shivers down my spine,

Body's aching all the time

Sometimes we spend too long in the garden, working too hard on something to pace ourselves, and we end up aching and sore.

Goodbye, everybody, I've got go,

Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth,

Mama, oooh, I don't want to die,

I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all

When we find plants that are not performing, that are languishing in the garden, we must face the truth and remove them for the good of the garden, even if they don't want to die.

The awesome guitar solo represents how good it feels to be gardening.

I see a little silhouetto of a man,

Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango

Then there are the squirrels, dancing into the garden...

Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening me

(Galileo) Galileo, (Galileo) Galileo,

Galileo, Figaro, 

Magnifico

And in the night, under the stars, come the deer.

I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me,

He's just a poor boy, from a poor family,

Spare him his life from this monstrosity

Even the humblest, most common plant deserves protection from the predations of deer, rabbits and squirrels.

Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?

Bismillah! No, we will not let you go! (Let him go!) 

Bismillah! We will not let you go! (Let him go!) 

Bismillah! We will not let you go! (Let me go!)  

Will not let you go! (Let me go!)  

Will not let you go! (Let me go!) 

No, no, no, no, no, no, no 

(Oh, mama mia, mama mia)  Mama mia, let me go!

Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me!

Sometimes, no matter what we try to protect a plant, those devious creatures will attack and destroy it, and the wise gardener knows when to give up the fight.

So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye

So you think you can love me and leave me to die

Oh, baby, can't do this to me baby,

Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here

Fence those critters out of the garden, and chase those squirrels away.

The head-banging guitar solo represents the gardener banging his or her head against the wall in frustration.

Oooh, yeah, oooh, yeah,

Nothing really matters, anyone can see,

Nothing really matters,

Nothing really matters to me

Any way the wind blows

Sometimes gardeners have to just trust in Nature, let go of the reins, and let the garden do its own thing.

Party on Wayne! Party on Garth! (See Wayne's World, set in nearby Aurora, IL.)

Next time, I'll be analyzing the lyrics of Green Day's "She's a Rebel" as they pertain to Idaho Gardener, MA, and the lyrics of The Kinks' "Lola."
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And now, in other news, I'm proud to announce that I am writing my memoirs, to be entitled, "Chronicles of Squirrelhaven: The Trials and Tribulations of a Garden Blogger, by M."  I'm shopping it around to a couple of publishers right now, but my agent assures me that it's going to be snapped up very soon.

Also I have just revamped the blog, tweaking and making changes.  I like to do this every year to keep things fresh & relevant. What do you think?  Was it worth all the time and effort?

Finally, I just want to say, "April Fools!"