

The Weekly Gardener

Volume 5

July through December 2013

A collection of weekly articles from

The Weekly Gardener

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013

Smashwords Edition, License Notes.

Thank you for downloading this free eBook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to http://smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

The Weekly Gardener is a live blog, for current articles please visit the website.

I would like to thank my blog readers whose continued interest gave me the confidence to keep writing. The Weekly Gardener started in June 2011, with Week 23.

### TABLE OF CONTENTS

Week 27 - July 8, 2013 \- Barcelona gardens

Week 28 - July 15, 2013 \- Summer in London

Week 29 - July 22, 2013 \- Reaching for the sun

Week 30 - July 29, 2013 \- Purples and yellows

Week 31 - August 5, 2013 \- When it rains

Week 32 - August 12, 2013 \- Mid-August

Week 33 - August 19, 2013 \- Healers and aromatics

Week 34 - August 26, 2013 \- Summer whites

Week 35 - September 2, 2013 \- It's hot, ladies and gentleman!

Week 36 - September 9, 2013 \- Just yellow

Week 37 - September 16, 2013 \- Grasses

Week 38 - September 23, 2013 \- Hot pink

Week 39 - September 30, 2013 \- September blues

Week 40 - October 7, 2013 \- Plum pudding

Week 41 - October 14, 2013 \- October roses

Week 42 - October 21, 2013 \- Happy Halloween!

Week 43 - October 28, 2013 \- Cold weather comforts

Week 44 - November 4, 2013 \- Yep, it's snow!

Week 45 - November 11 2013 \- Just cats

Week 46 - November 18, 2013 \- Waterfalls and rainbows

Week 47 - November 25, 2013 \- Winter reverie

Week 48 - December 3, 2013 \- Gardening in winter

Week 49 - December 10, 2013 \- More snow? Sure!

Week 50 - December 17, 2013 \- Angels

Week 51 - December 24, 2013 \- Merry Christmas!

Week 52 - December 31, 2013 \- New Year's resolutions

Week 27 - July 8, 2013

BARCELONA GARDENS

Park Guell

If an omnipotent child-god wanted to make him or herself a playground, he or she would probably have created Park Guell. Half fantasy garden, half gigantic sand castle, Park Guell is the ultimate design daydream, a place without limits, without scale, without guile, without inhibitions.

Half way up the monumental entry stairs flanked with shiny and colorful Spanish tiles an enormous lizard welcomes you, almost lifelike, if lizards were eight foot long and covered in cerulean blue and green glazed ceramic. Everything is green, blue and bright yellow in Park Guell world and shines brightly in the Catalan sun, faithfully guarded by the minaret like church steeple at the entrance. The slender tower is scaly and elongated like a palm tree trunk, only it holds up a cross instead of fronds.

At the top of the stairs, for no particular reason at all, is a hypostyle hall supported by enormous columns. It eats into the side of the mountain, a man-made cavern whose ceiling is made of giant saucers. In every saucer, upside down, as if gravity didn't exist, rest whimsical objects, each more colorful and eerie than the next, forcing you to spend a few minutes in curious exploration, open mouthed and befuddled as if you saw a keystone for the first time in your life.

Above the hall lays an open plaza the size of a stadium, covered with gravel and baking in the sun, no trees, no bushes, no flowers, no grass. The whole city is visible from here, cradled in gentle valleys and festooned by the mountains and the Mediterranean Sea, with the castle of Montjuïc and the elegant outline of the Fine Arts Museum projected in the distance.

The path along the edge of the plaza runs through this field of lavender flowers, flanking the old stone walls, almost drowning them in vegetal bliss. All around palm and linden trees compete with the exuberant bloom of the oleanders, no different from the organic shapes of the slanted stalactite columns and growing out of walls and caverns as if from fertile dirt.

There is so much brightness and wonder in Park Guell that it makes normal landscape look dull and dusty by comparison, as if seen through a filter that takes all the color out.

Palau Reial de Pedralbes

It was hot the morning we arrived at Palau Reial, the burning sun of the tropics bore down on us relentlessly. The palace had been originally built for count Eusebi Guell, an enthusiastic supporter of Antonio Gaudi, which explains why parts of the garden were designed by the latter.

The count donated the palace to the Royal Family which used it as residence at the beginning of the nineteenth century and in 1937 it became the Museum of Decorative Arts.

We passed the fountain that marks the entrance to the gardens and found cool shelter in the shade of the old trees. The water was surrounded by fiery red flowers and flashed behind us, gleaming in the sunlight like a blade.

We walked on alleys covered in fine gravel and punctuated by statues, arbors and topiary and reached the bamboo forest. Eager for adventure and invigorated by the cool air coming from the foliage the children rushed in, followed a barely noticeable trail and disappeared around a corner. I went after them, of course, driven by my overprotective streak, and found myself in front of an amazing structure.

It was a metallic skeleton shaped like a quartered ellipsoid, with its steel ribs and belts engulfed in the exuberant greenery of the fast growing stems (did you know that some varieties of bamboo can grow a foot a day?). All around the interior perimeter benches invited weary travelers to rest and relaxation. Birds frolicked in the foliage above, flying through the open structure every now and then.

Right next to our secret siesta room, almost within arm's length, lay the majestic palace, its image mirrored in a large reflecting pool also framed by blazing red flowers.

We stayed for a while, completely hidden inside this strange vegetal cave in the bamboo forest where the temperature was at least fifteen degrees lower than in the rest of the park, then continued on our way.

The castle of Monjuїc

We followed the road up a rocky shore overlooking the Mediterranean and passed by a giant cacti forest on our way to the top of the mountain. We watched the vegetation change as we advanced through the shade of large linden trees and myrtles that doused us in perfume.

At the top of the hill, with views to the sea and the gentle hills and valleys of Barcelona, sat the castle of Montjuïc, its imposing gates now welcoming happy visitors, its cannons still, a plaything for the numerous children running around the old fortifications. Charming music emerged from the open courtyard at the heart of the castle, resonating in the quietude of the sunset and spilling down the hills towards the city.

Parc de la Ciutadella

After you pass through the Arc de Triomf whose flaming red brick is rendered even more intense by the oblique light of the sunset, you reach the monumental walkway towards the center of the Parc de la Ciutadella. Flowering oleanders counterpoint the rhythm of the decorative street lamps, the vegetation flows like water around round points decorated by fountains and statuary.

Back in the distance you can distinguish the sophisticated curves of the Castell dels Tres Dragons, now the Zoology Museum. To the right is the winter garden which was mesmerizing to me. I couldn't take my eyes off the louvered walls through which sights of Eden peeked out every now and then, visions of tropical forests filled with birds and fragrance.

Week 28 - July 15, 2013

SUMMER IN LONDON

From Trafalgar Square to Westminster Abbey

Leaning in from the balcony entrance of The National Gallery we watched a street performer, the fountains of Trafalgar Square, and the people strolling through the plaza. It was unusually hot that day, a quirk of the weather, and many were drawing closer to the fountains for a welcome respite.

There is something very personal about the way London relates to you. The city won't let you be detached, keep a distance, observe. Everything is right there in your comfort zone, the buildings, the people, the cars, the sights, prompting you to react and have an opinion.

The lindens were in bloom in the middle of July and the fragrance reached everywhere, spilling from Belgrave Square Garden to Grosvernor Crescent and from Hyde Park to Park Lane.

On the edge of Saint James Park, straight across the road from Downing Street, there's a cottage garden with brilliant blue and lavender delphiniums and larkspur seven foot tall, happy as can be on its isthmus between the ends of the lake, basking in the sunshine and the intoxicating perfume of the linden trees.

The mounted guards passed us by on their way to the palace, impervious to the sweltering heat and curious stares. People watched them for a while then continued their stroll on the edge of the park pushing baby strollers, looking after kids on bicycles or searching for the best place to sit down on the grass.

One change of direction and six hundred feet later we found our way back to Bridge Street between the Parliament and Westminster Abbey, listening to Big Ben strike three and working our way around so many people and vehicles we had to walk all the way around the park just to find a place to cross the street.

Skyline

We walked down the steps from the Tower Bridge to the Bankside and lost ourselves in a sinuous flow of people from different backgrounds, of different nationalities, speaking different languages. Coherent streams of moving people leading towards the street, along the river bank, up the stairs to Hay's Lane, past the corner to Blackfriars Road.

Across the river the skyline was being reshaped by tall cranes whose slim metallic frames blended into the mix of buildings from different centuries like they belonged.

We followed one stream of people or another, watching the landscape on the other side of the river change before our eyes. Everything in London seems to be constantly moving, the continuous morphing of the cityscape, the varying perspectives of the winding streets, the fast flowing Thames, the weather, the sounds.

You walk up the stairs to a pedestrian bridge, down through passageways back to the river bank and up again to emerge unexpectedly on a very busy road, passing from one district to the next without time to adjust, moving through streets connected by elusive but instantly recognizable traits but differentiated by very distinct personalities, it makes you feel like you are watching a very fast slide show that moves around you so you can catch up with it.

Saint Paul's Cathedral, Piccadilly Circus, Regent Street, Charing Cross, Whitehall, Westminster Abbey, Saint James Park, Buckingham Palace, Hyde Park, Notting Hill, Wellington Arch, Victoria Station. Where are we? We are here.

London Eye

The Ferris wheel is huge and glows red, white and blue at night, reflected in the dark and quiet waters of the Thames. It peeks over the tops of the buildings and shows up unexpectedly at the end of a street, just as you turn the corner around a friendly local pub surrounded by white townhomes.

We walked in the Eye's shadow at noon, weaving through a sea of visitors, strolled through Jubilee Gardens, took a left on Belvedere road and walked down the steps next to the Riverside building to the international food market. Potted apple trees that said "Adopt me!" flanked our way down the stairs.

The Thames

A view of the Thames from the Tower Bridge. To the left is HMS Belfast, one of the largest warships from the Second World War, now a floating annex of the Imperial War Museum.

All around the giant moored ship smaller vessels move purposefully about, river cruises, pleasure yachts, tiny boats, cargo barges. They go under or through open draw-bridges, carried by the swift waters past the Parliament, the London Eye, the all glass City Hall and the Tower of London. Thames is a very busy river.

Week 29 - July 22, 2013

REACHING FOR THE SUN

July border

I was gone for a month and came back to this. The garden managed without me, quite well, in its own way: it's a jungle out there. Abundant rain and plenty of nutrients left in the soil enticed all things green into an explosion of leaves and more reluctantly, blooms and fruit. Alas, the weeds too.

I can't tell which is what, the imposing spikes of goldenrod grew eight foot tall, towering over the entire flower bed and making the five foot tall zinnias look modest by comparison.

Nicotiana took over, as it does every year, filling every space and elbowing its neighbors for more space. The straight-neck squash generated a cascade of leaves and tendrils, straight from the story of the giant pumpkin, completely covering the walkway. No fruit though, ugh!

The nicotiana, liatris, French mallow, zinnias, delphiniums and lavender look as if they sprouted from one common root, jumbled together at one end of the flower bed as if the rest of it is not acceptable for some reason.

The roses grew taller, to compensate for the height of their neighbors, which made the four-o-clocks reach four foot (I didn't think that was possible either), which made the coneflowers race to outgrow them. If I had to sum up my observations it would go something like this: "Too much fertilizer!!"

The garden looks flourishing as it shines its wilderness in the strong July sunshine, happy to stretch out its limbs in complete defiance of order and landscape design.

Summer heat

It wasn't a very hot summer so far, the air is bright and cool and the plentiful rain built up extra layers of vegetation to cool down the garden even more. There is one reflection of summer heat that burns more vibrant than ever: the bright orange flowers of the daylilies.

In the half shade under the pine trees the daylilies had a spectacular year. I don't know what makes the daisies bloom with abandon one summer only to give way to the persistence of the phlox the next, but I look forward to the changes of my garden.

The landscape's original design was an orange violet color scheme but I am not a purist as far as flower colors are concerned, so I added whites, and yellows, and pinks, and blues, and reds.

Nothing can outshine the bright orange of the daylilies, not even the relentless black-eyed Susans, or the prominent spires of goldenrod.

Everything is running late during this cool July. The eggplants are just starting to bloom so I'm guessing if there is any fruit later on it will be mostly decorative.

Sunny Yellows

I tried rudbeckia several times but it didn't seem to like my garden much, maybe it was the soil, maybe it was the weather, I don't know. Third time's a charm, though, here it is trying to keep up the pace with the competition, some freakishly tall four-o-clocks and the towering goldenrod.

Rudbeckia is a staple perennial for the summer garden, so if your garden design allows yellows, don't forget to plant it. It is long lived and has a tendency to spread, just like daisies, but if you ever struggled with plants that are all leaves and no blooms you can't begrudge one whose blooms are all but guaranteed.

Happy coneflowers

And rudbeckia's counterpart, the coneflower. Just as resilient and long lived this native has the reputation of being one of those plants you just plant and forget. Not in my garden, they aren't! They are very particular about overcrowding, which makes them susceptible to every rust and fungus in existence and they get scorched in full sunlight if the weather is too dry. Strangely enough, they tolerate part shade quite well, they don't acquire that scraggly dusty look coneflowers tend to get after a week or so.

They are happy now, it looks like, maybe because it rained a lot this summer.

Week 30 - July 29, 2013

PURPLES AND YELLOWS

French Mallow

If you choose the color purple for a monochromatic color scheme there is no scarcity of plants, annuals and perennials alike, to carry you through all four seasons.

You can start very early, even before spring sets in, with the intense magentas of the Lenten roses and as soon as the snow melts they are in the cheerful company of sweet violets, crocuses and hyacinths. When weather mellows a little bit the dusty spires of bugleweed cover entire areas in muted deep lavender with towering giant alliums swaying gently above. After them bloom the irises and the lilacs, with crane's bill growing in their shade, followed by long lasting bee-balms that carry you through to the first days of summer.

Summer belongs to the fragrant garden phlox, the tall spires of delphiniums and larkspur and the fuzzy spikes of liatris. Mixed between them, wild and unruly, speedwell and lavender grow, and Russian sage. The butterfly bush throws flower stems in all directions, like fireworks. Tall hostas counterpoint its rhythm from the shade while clematis weaves a tapestry of flowers and fuzzy seed heads in the background.

Obedient plant and asters welcome fall, blooming faithfully until the end of October, when the most beautiful flowers, the toad lilies, have the garden all to themselves. (I know, what a ridiculous name for a flower that looks like an orchid!)

Late in the winter purple berries fill the branches of viburnum and snowberries long after the maroon foliage of ornamental cherry trees had fallen.

Add to these a wealth of pansies, petunias, clown flowers, salvia, ageratum, dahlias, cosmos, and last but not least the French mallows. How lucky are we that these plants have beautiful flowers, otherwise the poor gardeners would wear themselves out trying to get rid of them! Once you have French mallows you will always have French mallows.

Black-eyed Susans

The garden is sitting pretty in the playful July sunshine even though the temperatures have been noticeably lower than usual. It feels more like September than the hottest month of the year but I'm not complaining! No human appreciates temperatures over a hundred degrees.

I left my flower beds to their own devices for too long at a critical time and now it's too late to complete the projects I had planned for this summer, I will have to make do with what already is.

Early this spring I threw some zinnia seeds over the flower beds and they turned into a field of pink and coral flowers. I was going to plant more annuals after that but now there aren't any left at the nursery, apparently nobody plants petunias in July. Fortunately for me some of the annuals I had a long time ago are propagating with a persistence worthy of praise. You only need to plant nicotiana, French mallow and four-o-clocks once.

The garden is quite nice and almost followed the color scheme I envisioned for it this year until the yellows poked through. Black-eyed Susans are so ubiquitous you almost expect to see them in a heartland garden and mine seemed a little odd without them. Fear not, I have them now and they are working hard to dig themselves from underneath a jungle of four-o-clocks and goldenrods.

Not my all time favorites but they are there and they are blooming, healthy and vigorous, wrecking havoc with my blue, pink and lavender color scheme. Did I ever mention that you may design your garden at the beginning of the season but what actually happens in the vegetal realm is completely up to it? My garden seems very adamant about the color yellow.

The dyer plant

Goldenrod is one of the most reliable dyer plants, creating consistent, colorfast and lightfast hues. It yields golden yellows when mixed with alum and vibrant greens when iron is added.

Keep in mind that you usually need the weight of flower heads to equal the weight of the fibers or fabric that you want to color in order to get good results and don't forget to mordant the medium (boil it in an alum solution); this helps the fibers respond better to dyeing.

Zinnia

Quite reliable bloomers, I don't know why I didn't plant zinnias every year.

One thing you can't guarantee, though, is how big the plant is going to get. I used them twice and the miniature cultivar grew just as tall and imposing as the giant one.

They harmonize beautifully with the coneflowers and the delphiniums, the ensemble looks unplanned and care-free like a wildflower meadow.

Week 31 - August 5, 2013

WHEN IT RAINS

Fall bounty

You might think this is an apple tree but you would be wrong: this is the fruit of the Japanese quince (Chaenomeles Japonica), a thorny shrub which graces us each spring with sprigs of delicate flowers that look just like apple blossoms, only bright red and with yellow middles.

The Japanese quince pomes are edible, as is the case with most of the fruit from the rose family (the apples, the raspberries, the rugosa hips and the plums to name a few), but edible doesn't necessarily mean tasty: the little quinces are tart, bitter and harsh, the kind of taste that doesn't list very high up on the menu for rabbits and squirrels, so the critters let them ripen on the branches in their good time until they blush gently on the sun-kissed side like miniature Anjou pears.

I was thrilled to see them, the shrub doesn't bear fruit every fall, it seems that the conditions were very favorable for it this year.

Last time it had fruit I planted the seeds and they all sprouted but none of the seedlings survived, maybe I moved them outside too fast, I don't know. Just wanted to point out that you can start them from seed even though like many shrubs they are normally propagated through root cuttings. Of course you will have to wait ten years or so for the plant to mature.

If you want to brave the wilderness you can actually cook the little quinces, process which is supposed to remove the harshness and the acidity and bring up their flavor, but if you are willing to put in this amount of effort why not cook real quinces, quince preserves are an exquisite sweet and sour delicacy. Try it, you'll love it!

Any moment now...

These are the Abraham Lincoln tomatoes. I started them from seed for the first time this year and will keep planting them because they surpassed expectations. The variety performs exactly as described: they started early, produced large quantities of round, healthy and tasty fruit and keep yielding with the enthusiasm of a cherry tomato cultivar.

Since they are indeterminate tomatoes their chords keep growing and if you don't pinch the tops and remove the suckers they will keep expanding to cover the earth. Most of us don't have that much room at our disposal so you'll need to trim and stake them, which cuts down on quantity but keeps your garden neat and tidy.

Abraham Lincoln is an heirloom variety and in theory this means that you can save the seed from year to year. My experience with other heirloom types was that they sprout very reliably and grow healthy and strong but lose a lot of their fruitful enthusiasm during the second round.

Tomatoes are really eager to reseed, I had to pull sprouts from the most unlikely locations, many of them in the shade, most a considerable distance from the parent plant, so you might get them the following year also, whether you plant them or not.

When you find the rogue plants proudly asserting their vigor in the middle of your flowerbed dig them out gently and move them to a more suitable location, they are not fussy about being transplanted at all.

Unlike the large determinate varieties I tried in previous years these started early enough to ripen during the summer. I proudly weighed, recorded in the yield table and ate the first tomato (don't laugh, be nice!) and it was delicious, I'm so excited! The rest will follow any moment now...

The golden healers

There is no shortage of literature on the medicinal qualities of calendula which is probably why most people put them in the same category with valerian, chamomile, aloe and horsetail. On top of its medicinal properties calendula has really beautiful flowers that can hold their own among the summer favorites.

I'm so happy that these sweethearts decided to sprout again across a two year span! If you keep deadheading them they won't go to seed and will bloom well into mid-November, turning the most beautiful shades of coral, orange, yellow and rust.

Nasturtiums

They are old-fashioned and very reliable, although I don't think the climate in this area encourages their blooming. I plant them every year because I have an emotional bond to them: they are among the first I could recognize (when you are a "green" gardener all shoots on the flower patch look more or less the same) and one of the few that actually performed as expected, give or take a few flowers.

There is no way to mistake their round leaves for anything else and they can cover large areas if conditions are just right: bright sunshine, but not scorching heat, a good amount of moisture and a loamy soil rich in nutrients. Really? Most plants hate that.

Week 32 - August 12, 2013

MID-AUGUST

Isn't this lovely?

My grandfather used to make up stories about the vegetable garden, he was a wonderful storyteller with a vivid imagination. I am going to share one of his stories with you. He made them up on the spot to persuade me to eat my veggies, there is a whole series featuring cauliflower, cabbage, corn, you get the idea. This one is of course about beans.

One day a little bean pod decided to wriggle all the way down the vine from the sunny spot at the top of the trellis where it was born. The growing bean had been watching all the wonderful plants on the vegetable patch from its location and wanted to visit them and exchange stories about their growth habits and surroundings.

It wandered around for a while, admiring the broad leaves of the purple cabbage and the large seed heads of the dill plants and just when it figured it should head back home so its mother didn't worry the pod snapped open and one of its beans fell out. The little green bean was so distraught it cried all the way home. It clambered the vine, sobbing its pod off, and reached its little spot at the top of the trellis.

The concerned mother bean asked what was wrong and little bean showed her the open pod with another bean just about to fall out. Momma bean laughed kindheartedly and told the little one not to worry about the fallen beans, they were going to be large and healthy plants, just like the one it called home, but in order to keep the shell from popping open too soon on future travels she got a needle and some thread and sew the pods closed.

In case anybody was wondering why green beans have strings, now you know.

Better later than never

Of the numerous varieties of squash available I happened to choose the one that grows larger than my garden. These summer zucchini plants are gigantic and determined the location I chose for them is not adequate in terms of real estate so they sprawled over the concrete walkway completely blocking it. Now I have to jump over the leaf of the year award winning plants if I want to stroll back and forth in the back yard.

The plants work strenuously around the clock to produce a barrage of stems and enthusiastic blooms but so far I have seen no yield.

Better later than never, behold the beautiful fruit of the vine! Many gardening books point to the fact that the female squash flowers appear on the plants later but they don't say it can be as long as a month and a half later in some cases. Fortunately they grow very fast. I am writing this article one day after I took the picture and this zucchini already doubled in size.

I would consider growing them in containers next year but there is no substitute for starting plants directly in the ground: they develop better root systems, get a good balance of nutrients and are less stressed during periods of draught.

Setting aside the fact that loam is the ideal soil for any plant most vegetables love clay, which is one of the most fertile growing mediums. If a plant can withstand the weight on its roots you can tell this nutrient rich soil makes it thrive.

My zucchini plants are an example of how that might happen, they keep expanding into a little temperate climate jungle. I gave up on the idea of making them look neat and tidy, they are annuals after all...

Garden scene

I'm taking a moment to enjoy the sight of my very messy vegetable patch asserting itself. If you give vegetables sunlight and just enough water they pretty much take over and fend for themselves. Some good organic fertilizer surely doesn't hurt either, but it's the sunlight they crave most.

Look at them, the little dears, pushing through fruit with diligence and application. More to come!

Carrots

Yes they did! I'm glad to have figured out how to grow root vegetables in a yard that has only heavy clay soil: I started all of them in containers. To be quite honest with you I didn't really expect to see carrots but apparently I'm going to have a crop, what do you know?

I'll leave them in the ground until November to see how big they get. There is also a crop of parsnips, they started developing their roots too but they are not as far along as the carrots.

Week 33 - August 19, 2013

HEALERS AND AROMATICS

Thyme

Thyme is a very strong natural antiseptic due to its large thymol content, an effective ingredient in alcohol free sanitizers. Thyme oil is also very successful in treating fungal nail infections and thyme tea relives stubborn bronchitis.

It will help ease tooth aches and keep your gums healthy when diluted and used as a mouth rinse. Dab a little thyme oil on blemishes to disinfect them and prevent inflammation. The concentrated oil can be irritating to the skin, so use sparingly or mix it in a carrier oil.

An infusion of thyme mixed with witch hazel can be used as a disinfectant and cleaning solution for germ prone spots in your household.

Following the old adage "Let food be thy medicine" you can get the great medicinal qualities of this herb by sprinkling it on your food and it will be delicious too. Its antibacterial qualities will keep colds and gastrointestinal upsets at bay.

If the concept of medicinal food doesn't sound very appealing to you, just set it aside and enjoy the recipes: goat cheese with thyme and lemon, spring herb salad, thyme chicken and baked potatoes, thyme infused vinaigrette oil, or hearty herb chili.

Lavender

Lavender is a wonderful herb for skin care. Its essential oil heals sunburn, irritation, bites and scrapes, improves the texture and tone of blemish prone skin and is so gentle it can be applied undiluted to the skin.

A tablespoon of lavender buds mixed in a cup of witch hazel make a very calming balancing toner for oily skin.

If you stir a handful of buds in a couple of teaspoons of honey it will perform beautifully as a face cleansing scrub to clean and hydrate your complexion and shrink pores for a smoother, more refined look.

For a balancing facial the steam of lavender tea mixed with a tablespoon of vinegar livens up a dull complexion and cleanses clogged pores, restoring the natural ph to oily skin.

A lavender cream or lotion protects the face during the harsh winter months and relieves sunburn during the summer. A few tablespoons of lavender buds ground up to a fine dust and mixed with talcum powder or cornstarch make a great body powder, gentle enough for a baby's delicate skin.

An aromatic bath with lavender, thyme and tea tree oil will protect your skin against microbes and fungi while pampering and toning it at the same time. An added benefit is that it will help you get a restful night's sleep, especially if followed by applying a few drops of lavender essential oil under your nose or placing a sachet filled with lavender buds and hops inside your pillow.

Mint

As soon as July rolls around I start gathering bunches of fresh mint and hanging them up to dry. The whole house smells like mint for a while, it is quite the aromatherapy!

Dry herb sachets are not only for the linen closet, you know. Slip a couple of mint filled muslin bags under the front seats of the car (you can help the fragrance last longer with a few drops of mint essential oil). It will be a pleasant surprise when you open the door after the car has spent a few hours baking in the sun.

Lovage

One of the most flavorful kitchen herbs, lovage has medicinal properties too, mild antiseptic and anti-inflammatory. It is one of the few herbs tolerant of shade but don't expect to just plant it and forget it, it is very difficult to acclimate to a new environment.

I started it twice and it doesn't seem thrilled the second time around either. If it establishes itself it will get very large, so make sure to plant it somewhere it can expand, it grows to be six foot tall by three foot wide.

Week 34 - August 26, 2013

SUMMER WHITES

August lily

I often mention that the garden has a will of its own and bends the intent of landscape design to seasonal whimsy. This year it decided to take on a cool look in white and green right at the end of August when flower beds traditionally boast bright oranges, yellows and fiery reds.

The Plantain or August lily takes on a prominent role in August and I am thrilled to have planted some that are fragrant. Their flowers smell like lilies and lily of the valley, with just a little magnolia scent blended in. I don't believe most people think of hostas as fragrant flowers because most varieties aren't, but when they are scented they can compete with the roses.

I have a full shade garden now, filled with foam flowers, bugbane, sweet woodruff, lily of the valley and yes, lots of hostas. Joy of joys, this year I found and adopted two toad lilies whose orchid like polka-dotted purple flowers bloom at the beginning of November.

Fragrant hostas punctuate the path to my front door, pendulous trumpets scenting the air, it looks like I finally found what will bloom against a north foundation wall in full shade.

A full shade perennial garden in bloom is the Holy Grail of gardening, often coveted but rarely achieved. If it grows it doesn't bloom, if it blooms it doesn't smell, if both come true it can't tolerate draught and becomes a monument to high maintenance. And then again, sometimes it just comes together effortlessly to spoil you with fragrant white flowers as you walk to your door.

Future peppers

Despite the coolness of the weather the peppers took in the extra food in the soil and put it to good use. They are a little late and I can't remember if these flowers belong to the ancient sweets, the chilis or the regular bell peppers because the fruit is still very small and the vegetable patch is a miniature impenetrable jungle.

A surprise this year, the eggplants are pouring fruit like crazy. I am beyond impressed considering how difficult these plants usually are, I guess fertilizer had something to do with it. Not all plants like force feeding, I found out, the tomatoes are at a standstill right around the time of year where I can't keep up with picking them and the cucumbers are underwhelming, but I'm going to blame that on the dry weather and myself for not watering them enough.

After taking over my garden path the green summer zucchini finally produced large and fast growing fruit, so I don't feel too bad about the cluttered chaos.

You can grow a tomato but you can't train it on a stake, at least not the stakes I have anyway. The plants are too large and too heavy, so I abandoned the quest for order and control and let them sprawl despite my better judgment. They seem not to care.

We've got green beans yielding steadily throughout the summer and real carrots and parsnips with roots and everything. September is rolling around but I expect we'll have at least two more months of veggies. Modestly, the quantities are in ounces.

Summer light

Summer is winding down with unexpected gentleness, there is a cool breath in the air unmistakably calling for the next season.

Usually you can only feel the arrival of fall in the oblique light, the radiant golden light that is brimming with sweetness like a fruit while the warmth in the air still flushes your face as you come out the door. Not this year, though, not this year.

Sunny

Daisies will take over a sunny spot, which is why I dug them out of the tiny and valuable full sun exposure corner of my flower bed and distributed them around less fortunate areas with clay and some shade.

I would lie if I said they liked it better, I felt a little guilty about this, but they still bloom in part shade, which was the desired result.

Week 35 - September 2, 2013

IT'S HOT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!

Northern orchids

What are you doing, cold weather beauty? Not only it is two months ahead of schedule (toad lilies bloom at the end of October), but it picked the hottest day of the month to shine. A late heat wave is slowly baking the garden and the summer favorites enjoy an extension on their peak season.

You have to get really close to appreciate toad lilies' blossoms which are small but unbelievably detailed. I don't think there is a flower in this part of the world that so closely approximates orchids.

They are hardy to zone 5 and bloom in the shade, the last flowers to bloom in the garden after the trees have shed their leaves, the sedums have gone to seed and even the all suffering calendulas succumbed to the cold.

Their pretty blossoms are festooned by ice crystals on frigid November mornings and twinkle like bedazzled polka-dotted stars above the barren landscape of a sleeping garden. I'm baffled to see them surrounded by shiny green leaves, they are so early this year!

Let their flowers go to seed and you may be blessed with new plants naturally. Give them moisture, shade and humus, this is what they like, they are woodland plants. Their preferred environment explains how they managed to get such an awful name despite their stunning beauty.

Toad lilies really do belong to the lily family and will take up to three years to look their best. They can be propagated by division but you have to be very careful because they don't like being transplanted.

Sky drops

In everybody else's garden Morning Glories bloom all summer long; they open their cheerful trumpets early in the morning when the sun is bright but forgiving and twist their flowers closed come noon to protect their delicate corollas from the heat.

They slow down at the end of the summer and fade in the background, surpassed by the intensity of the asters and garden mums.

Not in my garden. They start out slowly sometime at the end of June and take their sweet time to build up their foliage. Not a singular flower appears until August and the vine uses all its resources to clamber the pine tree under which it grows.

When the vine reaches the first branches it spreads out and starts blooming profusely, this usually happens mid-September and goes on for more than a month during which the cerulean blue trumpets look like little drops of sky adorning the tree. Cold fall mornings bring up weird color combinations and the pure blue shifts to bright pink, magenta or violet, bearing stripes, gradients and watercolor smudges.

From September on they don't let up, not for the cold, nor for the gray skies, not for the rain. They keep draping the tree in garlands of heavenly blue flowers until the first snow covers them.

Bee favorites

If you have an impossible condition in your garden you might want to try sedums. I managed to fill dry shade spaces that seemed hopeless. They grow very fast too and can dress up your garden in just one season.

Bees and butterflies are very fond of them. Want more bee and butterfly favorites? Go for aromatic plants with composite flowers: dill, mint, milkweed, goldenrod, hyssop, anise.

Fall groundcover

Plumbago is one of those fail proof groundcovers like periwinkle or ivy, with the added benefit of abundant blue flowers in the fall. I have this plant in full sun and part shade, I transplanted some of it to cover a problem slope with very loose soil and it performs beautifully.

No maintenance, it doesn't mind draught, light shade, poor soil, and will spread if it has room. Late in the fall its leaves turn a gorgeous ruby red, very attractive must have plant.

Week 36 - September 9, 2013

JUST YELLOW

September harvest

This year I planted squashes for their flowers; even when fruit starts to develop it often succumbs to blossom rot. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. It is official that the giant summer zucchini was not the best choice for my micro garden, as it takes up all the space including the concrete path and doesn't like it here either. Maybe the weather didn't agree with cucurbits this year, the cucumbers are quite pitiful too.

It rained a little over night and the weather cooled, it is September after all. The garden looks neater and tidier than usual if you don't count the crazies (goldenrod, nicotiana and four o clocks) and the squashes, which are in a la-la land of their own.

The rest of the flowers settled into mutually agreeable patterns and stopped crowding each other. They now punctuate the landscape with rosy bunches of stonecrops, golden rusts of hardy mums and the brazen pinks of zinnias.

The summer was reasonably fruitful but the bulk of the harvest begins just now - the eggplants, the carrots, the parsnips, the dry beans. Tomatoes generally boost their production at this time, careful to ensure sufficient progeny before the first frost.

It seems winter and spring will be milder than normal which means that the young and frost tender perennials might make it through the cold season. Last time I checked my climate zone in order to pick the right plants the graph showed me that I am no longer in zone five. It really got warmer, people.

Fall panache

Every season has its character: spring is the realm of colorful flower carpets, summer gives in with abandon to exuberant growth, and fall is panache time.

Maiden grasses wave their soft chenille seed heads displaying sophisticated natural hues, ranging from wheat to soft purple. Their foliage color covers the whole range, from bright ruby red to straw yellow, purple and every shade of green. Solid or variegated, dwarf or seven foot tall, sporting velvety manes, spiky shoots or puffy flower clusters, the grasses are at their best in September when their foliage hasn't wilted yet but their ripeness shows itself in full glory.

They are not however the only plants to sway above the landscape with the grace of dancers. I discovered the qualities of this native of the northern plains, goldenrod, a few years ago and since then it grew and multiplied in spectacular fashion. Like all native perennials, once in your garden, always in your garden. The flowers are spectacular in mass plantings where their bright yellow bunches create a great effect. In its natural habitat goldenrod covers entire meadows in gold and sunshine.

I didn't heed the warning that it is invasive but must admit it spreads with the enthusiasm of a vicious weed, good thing it is pretty. I can't resent it, even though it took a significant chunk of the full sun flower border for itself and grew eight feet tall.

I didn't have the heart to pull it and now it towers over the roses at a completely random location with its sunny flowers waving in the wind like a flag. The one in the picture surrendered to the weight of its flowers and bent down gracefully to kiss the grass.

Pamper your skin

If any skin deserves pampering and care, it would be that of gardeners who scoop and putter, weed and feed and by the end of the day their hands get rough and blistered, with dirt under the fingernails and hardened cuticles. It is hard work to bring forth the miracle of harvest.

I wish you many blessings for the effort you put forth and will share this skin pampering recipe for you to enjoy: one quarter cup of vegetable oil, one tablespoon of coconut oil, one tablespoon of beeswax, one tablespoon of vitamin E oil (or one tablespoon of oil and two vitamin E capsules), one teaspoon of lanolin, half a cup of very strong calendula petals tea and your favorite fragrance. Warm up the oils and wax until they are liquid and fully blended, stir in the strained calendula tea and the fragrance and whip in a blender until smooth and creamy. Calendula heals small cuts and scrapes, lanolin is wonderfully conditioning and beeswax will form a protective layer over your skin that keeps the moisture in and the irritants out.

Flowers of the potager

Since I have an official vegetable garden I embraced the tradition of planting "veggie flowers" to make it look pretty. A potager can be beautiful enough in and of itself, the bean flowers come in charming hues and the squashes keep you well stocked with little drops of sunshine throughout the summer. The cabbages, cauliflower heads, Swiss chards and rhubarbs provide accents of color, while the graceful seed heads of anise and dill offer texture.

Even so gardeners like to embellish, but in a practical, harvest oriented sort of way. This is how nasturtiums and marigolds became the traditional flowers of the veggie patch. Nasturtiums are edible and give a pleasant peppery spice to salads. Marigolds are great at keeping predators at bay with their pungent smell and are usually planted around tomatoes, peppers and eggplants. I'd say gardeners found an excuse to keep their vegetable yards pretty.

Week 37 - September 16, 2013

GRASSES

Fluffy

It actually started to feel like fall, even with the flowers still in bloom when you pass mid-September you start waiting for winter. Not the most charming of times, fall is, once it's done with the turning of the foliage and the picking of the gourds and the planting of the bulbs and the clearing of the leaves it remains wet and barren and as exciting as an old disheveled crow in a dead tree.

Back to more pleasant imagery, here comes fluffy! There is fluffy everywhere, as I said, September is panache month. One tends to underestimate the importance of texture in the garden but the grasses really are pretty with their chenille fuzz undulating gently in the wind. They feel plush and cuddly and soften the harsh edges of the flower beds with billowy curves.

The stonecrops are in bloom, also fluffy and fuzzy, punctuating the garden with blushing umbrellas and blending with the soft plumes of goldenrod in an old-fashioned tapestry image.

As I enjoy my flower beds' accommodating demeanor the clouds of the old days pass over my mind, the years when my garden fought me viciously, yielding only thistle and scratchy sticks as if to spite me and waste my sweat. This just comes to prove that perseverance does pay off eventually. So does counting to ten, valuing the effort in and of itself, and the bane of all joy, experience.

With self-denial and the patience of Job I managed to uproot some well established weed ecosystems that endured for decades and came with the garden as a package deal. Some people say gardening isn't easy. It is easy, just not during the first ten years.

Fluffier

There is a brief respite between the jungle growth habits of summer and the never ending work of removing dried up stems and getting the leaves off the lawn (try it on a breezy day, you'll love it!) when the flower beds are tame and obliging and no plant grows out of proportion or requires special attention to look decent.

Everything is green, the leaves are healthy and fuzzy plumes dangle gracefully over the landscape, without that dreadful hay look they acquire in winter.

During this time frame I usually set aside my dislike for the season and try to make the best of it by adding to the garden a few new perennials. This year's were toad lilies, catmint, two low growing varieties of creeping veronicas and lady's mantle.

After a while you only need to get plants you never grew before, for the rest the garden self-supplies. That is how I ended up with three more crane's bills, a lot of baby's breath, several heucheras, more daisies, white and purple garden phlox, daylilies galore, irises and two fragrant hostas.

If you transplant and divide perennials during the month of September they will be less stressed by draught and extreme temperatures and still have enough time to acclimate to their new surroundings before the garden wraps up for the season.

Fluffiest

It used to look a lot prettier in previous years, unfortunately this variety of fountain grass is not long lived. Several clumps slowly fizzled out and this one is not as thick as it used to be.

Its spikes are still the fluffiest in the land, at least for now until the maiden hair matures. If you thought grasses need no maintenance, think again: this plant produces significantly more spikes and looks a lot lusher and healthier with a good dressing of organic fertilizer.

And colorful

That's this prairie grass's best look, soft cascading plush. Later in the fall it opens up all its seed heads which become matted plumes of wooly fuzz in a dull straw beige.

For now it's soft and colorful and its flowy mane shines and shows no signs of frizz. One good thing about grasses is that they come in so many colors other than green and so many patterns other than solid.

Week 38 - September 23, 2013

HOT PINK

Landscaper standards

Between the apple green of the unripe flowers and the velvety chocolate brown of the dried seed heads sedum touches every shade of from blush pink to burgundy. Somewhere mid-way it reaches this hue intensity and contributes a significant portion of the fall garden color.

Like it happens with many standard landscaping plants the excessive use of sedum in public spaces and the no-man's lands along freeways and between parking lots tends to undermine its great qualities, so I'm going to do it justice and reiterate them here.

Sedum thrives whether planted in full sun or full shade, it tolerates almost desert-like conditions (it is after all a succulent and it can hold on to its water indefinitely) and is practically impervious to disease.

It doesn't matter if the soil is loose or heavy, sedum will perform just as reliably. It blooms unfailingly and both its flowers and foliage are beautiful and will make great specimen or mass plantings. Its blooms last for more than four months.

You don't have to feed it, prune it, or do anything other than divide it every once in a while, or transplant the babies the plant sprouts around itself occasionally. Sedum is not poisonous and therefore will not be dangerous to small children or pets, it is however bitter so squirrels and rabbits will leave it alone.

I could go on but I am just trying to make a point that landscape designers choose these plants for good reasons \- reliability, low maintenance and long life.

Why plant zinnias

I usually recommend them for children's gardens, they are the easiest flowers to grow and provide great impact for very little effort. You can't do wrong by zinnias, they thrive under any circumstances, as you can see in this picture. They bloomed all summer and will keep going until after the first frost.

No two are the same: some are single, some are fully double, some developed a second layer of petals around the yellow stamens that makes them look like a photoshopping cloning error and their flowers come in every shade of pink imaginable, from pale blush to salmon to an electric hue that looks metallic.

Why pink, you ask? Because I didn't get the multicolor variety, or the lime green one. There are so many cultivars you can find a perfect fit for any garden design, even though the dwarf cultivar grew five foot tall in my garden, I wouldn't plant them at the front of the border.

They were all started from seed and my well-meaning attempt to help them along by starting them indoors didn't give them much of an advantage. By the time they regained their color after being transplanted a whole new batch started directly outdoors probably surpassed them. I started some indoors and threw another set of seeds on the ground and now I really don't know which is which.

Zinnias are dahlia-lite, all the dahlia with none of the tender bulb digging in the fall.

You know how people say that nothing worthwhile comes easy? I beg to differ in this specific instance.

Some serious geraniums

These geraniums look so very dignified they always make me hesitate for a second and wonder if I am treating them with the deference they obviously deserve. Their color doesn't shine through at its finest in this picture, but the flowers are a deep shade of burgundy with the velvety texture of royal purple.

The cool sunny weather suits them, they have been blooming profusely since September started.

Pink fruit

Magnolia trees add their blushing egg-shaped fruit to the pinks of fall. If you are not familiar with this tree, the fruit will fascinate you because it is not what you expect. It looks like a little pineapple, but as the skin dries up and cracks open you find out it is filled with bright red corn kernels.

Every year I wonder if the kernels last or spoil, their moisture level is a lot higher than that of corn but they look like they would make a festive addition to potpourri.

Week 39 - September 30, 2013

SEPTEMBER BLUES

Outdoing itself

This year the morning glory is outdoing itself. It covers the branches of the pine tree in bright blue flowers as it does every September, but with three times the amount of flowers it had last year.

It is the season of periwinkle skies and sun shining brightly through tree branches, when the morning air is crisp and humid and the foliage looks a little tired in the advent of winter.

Fall came quietly this year and I almost forgot it is time for bulb planting. I walk through the dew covered grass watching unbelievable blue trumpets face the sky. I plan for next year. There are new perennial seeds in the ground, honey scented fairy candles and cheerful primroses and I'm sure some of the calendulas reseeded themselves.

The Lenten roses grew dramatically in the back yard and I'm wondering if I should divide some and plant them in the front yard too, I can't tell you how heartwarming it is to walk through the snow in January and see flowers peeking out from under the white blanket.

There is sunshine in the backyard now and I daydream about colorful summer flowers and vines gracefully covering supports. A peaceful green haven inhabits my mind, plush with healthy foliage and fragrant petunias spilling over the edges of hanging baskets, cool and fresh in the summer morning.

I wish my garden looked neat and tidy like my grandfather's and make a plan to be more fastidious next year. The tomatoes are staring me back, overgrown and sprawling over the pathway.

Fall planning

Mid-fall is a strangely hectic time for gardeners and while all the plants are preparing for winter hibernation the gardeners are busy sowing, moving perennials, reorganizing flower beds and building outdoor furnishings.

I can't tell which is more exhilarating, setting up the garden layout for next year or seeing the results the following spring. What makes things even more exciting this season is that I have two completely new areas to work with and a very young shade garden to develop.

The first area is a part shade flower bed that replaced an awkward sod patch atop a slight incline. It got filled almost immediately with plant divisions from the established areas. Of course every time you divide plants the clumps grow much faster, so the new flower bed filled up quickly over the summer, it really looks like a perennial garden now. I tried not to get carried away and leave some room for new plants, it feels like a good opportunity to bring in a few new roses and herbaceous perennials.

The second area was a no man's land in the back yard so overgrown with roots and ivy that I couldn't push a shovel through it. It used to be in dry shade so I didn't feel it warranted the effort to change it, but now it has sunshine, a lot less bushes and it literally looks twice bigger. I guess it will be my pleasure and joy to plan what to do with it over the winter months.

The young shade garden is absolutely charming, with healthy foliage and delicate flowers. It doesn't grow very fast but it's definitely thriving. The new hostas are delightfully fragrant, I never saw them bloom before. The struggling foundation planting with northern exposure really looked like a garden this August.

I guess after you toiled unsuccessfully for years when you finally acquire the needed gardening expertise the plants start giving you a break. That might have something to do with choosing the proper soil type, sun exposure and amount of water, but I choose to think it is because they like me. There is a very fine line between quirkiness and lunacy, I know, but as one advances in years and wisdom one tends to blur the boundary a little bit. One of the few advantages of growing old...

Late harvest

The latest and greatest of the garden, hidden under foliage because as I mentioned previously the garden asserted itself this summer. Between the sprawling tomato chords and the overgrown groundcover (a healthy dose of fertilizer feeds edible and decorative plants alike) peppers grew stealthily and since they are still green I didn't even notice them until they got to this size.

I really should have used sturdier supports, I didn't picture when I planted fledgling four inch sprouts shivering under the icy wind in spring how large the plants will get in the fullness of summer.

Eggplant

I can hardly wait for the eggplant harvest. I am calling it a harvest because this year I got five of them, aren't I the accomplished gardener! I might have to pick them soon, even though the weather isn't very cold yet their skins started looking a little dull.

Eggplant is by excellence a warm weather plant, its growth season is long and this summer started very late, but they still managed a decent yield. Now I only have to figure out what to do with them, they certainly are an acquired taste.

Week 40 - October 7, 2013

PLUM PUDDING

Lady Marmalade

Sometimes you just need the right lighting to really appreciate colorful foliage, although this little purple beauty didn't go unnoticed through the summer when it competed for interest with the daisies and the wild geraniums.

Another near miss in the battle with the mighty hellebores (I swear, the latter are bent on garden domination if left to their own devices), these exotic looking coral bells seem very happy in their new location in dappled shade.

Heucheras are advertised as shade plants but they will not bloom at all and will slowly diminish to nothingness in full shade, no matter how much care, food and water they get. What they like most is a location with slightly acidic soil where they receive no more than five hours of direct sunlight a day, preferably in the morning. The harsh heat of the summer afternoons stresses them and even though they hold on to their water pretty well they will spend all their efforts protecting their moisture instead of blooming.

Some gardeners advise against growing heucheras in heavy soils but I noticed mine are thriving even though the soil they grow in is rock hard clay. Most plants don't mind the weight on their roots if they have plentiful nutrients, sufficient water and adequate sun exposure and use it to their advantage to protect themselves from being uprooted by strong winds. Heavy soils are more of a challenge for the gardener than for the garden.

The coral bell clumps grow slowly until they start hollowing out in the middle, giving you a hint that it's time to divide them. They are pretty old when that happens and if left untouched they die eventually, they are not very long lived plants. Young coral bells boom prolifically from May till August, depending on the cultivar, and are really stunning both as specimen plants and in mixed borders, although I noticed that you can either get spectacular foliage or beautiful flowers, not both. The colorful cultivars have rather unimpressive tiny white flowers.

Garden on the move

The new light shade flower beds are quickly coming to life with plants from all over the yard, a constant reminder that a perennial patch is the gift that keeps on giving. My garden of hellebores is actually happening!

If there is anything I learned from many trial and error gardening endeavors is that seeds may or may not sprout but anything with roots that you dug up from the same lot is almost guaranteed to grow. This little discovery now allows me to multiply the plant stock indefinitely (not all at the same time, mind you), and try various locations until I find the right combination of factors that makes everything fall into place naturally.

If a plant doesn't thrive I move it until it looks happy with the accommodations. I just relocated the daylilies for the third time. They looked distressed growing in full shade, scraggly leaved and refusing to bloom, but when I tried to pull them I noticed their unfortunate circumstances gave them a reason to grow an extensive root system. They now grace a very bright area of the shade garden with abundant space and plenty of water. Here's hoping!

I moved the heucheras twice after they lost their territorial war with the rugged hellebores and were meekly nursing ever diminishing foliage under the mighty evergreen. If you give a hellebore two square feet it will take the remaining ten without your help but I can't begrudge them their expansionist habits, they bloom in January after all!

Three struggling hostas from a sunny location with not so perfect soil perked up immediately at the touch of rich dark soil, moisture and shade and literally grew an inch in the three days since I transplanted them.

The garden phlox changed location again since last time I planted it at the front of a low growing perennial border where it looked like a stick in the mud. The indomitable sedums tripled in quantity due to the miracle of plant division: zero to three by four foot bushes in three months.

Just wishing and waiting for the black cohosh started from seed last week. If it germinates it will be the most spectacular shade plant in my garden: its lush dark purple foliage, almost black, is deeply fringed and airy and its graceful and stately bottle brush flowers really glow like white candles in the deep shade they like so much. The flowers smell like honey, last for a month and stand tall gracefully adorning foundation walls and fences. I sigh and dream and sigh again. Please let them germinate, please! They take a long time to mature, but some plants are worth the wait.

Last but not least I reviewed the contents of my seed box and found white hollyhock and pink lupine seeds, lucky me. Between those, the bugleweed and the sweet woodruff groundcovers I think my new part shade garden is pretty much set now. Just waiting for the spring bulbs to wrap up the season.

Spiky

These spiky plumbago seed heads dot the still green foliage after the flowers have faded. The leaves will turn an intense ruby red soon, to harmonize with the sugar maples and the bright yellow acacias.

If you are looking for a groundcover that performs beautifully throughout the year don't miss out on planting plumbago. It requires no maintenance, it is very resilient and draught resistant, blooms at the end of summer when the garden needs a little pick-me-up and has beautiful fall foliage.

Earth tones

Mums' colors are meant more for harmony than for solos. Their earth tones don't dazzle when you see them individually but counterpoint the sophisticated color schemes of other fall blooming perennials and turning leaves.

The peachy ones in the picture are planted with maroon sedums and lavender catmint and hit just the right color note in the ensemble. Unlike annual mums, hardy mums tend to grow tall, so plant them where this feature will be an asset.

Week 41 - October 14, 2013

OCTOBER ROSES

Good cheer

Sometimes people don't believe when I say these roses bloom until the dirt freezes solid.

I started a border with four equal height roses about six years ago, planted them around the northeast corner of the flower bed and watched them grow progressively taller from east to north, like an object lesson in sun path mapping. The article photo shows the northern exposure, the tallest of them all. They were supposed to be miniature landscaping roses, but their canes grew tall and woody to reach for precious sunshine and now I think they can be better described as rose trees.

The eastern end continues to fight the good fight with some very aggressive nicotianas and share the land with perennial snapdragons (which do overwinter, even in zone 5); the roses are almost invisible now. What perplexes me is that the nicotiana border, which bends around the same corner, manages to maintain an even height.

The rose's name is "Gourmet popcorn" and its flowers are apple and citrus scented, with cheerful yellow middles beloved by butterflies and bees and perfect white petals that turn blush pink and get tinged with deep rose as the weather turns cold.

I try to prune them to even height every spring but they continue to grow on a curve, despite my best efforts. If you don't know whether a rose needs pruning err on the side of leaving it alone. I spent four years with no flowers on the shrub roses before I learned this useful lesson.

Rose garden

I have seen rose gardens in my childhood, my grandfather had one, my aunt's mother in law had one, my other grandmother had one. Since I didn't know much about gardening at the time, I watched them care for and expand their rose beds and learned a few things that are not usually featured in the standard rose care manual.

The first one is that roses are not as much an acquisition as an heirloom. They have stories and sentimental value and they absolutely will not thrive in a location just because you placed them there. You choose roses and then they have to choose you. (Sometimes they don't, I'm still begging and pleading with "Tuscany" to please stop withering into a pile of dead sticks, but after three tries it still refuses). All the roses in my grandfather's garden had a story, some were a gift from my mother, some were the first flowers planted after his home got built in 1936, some were my grandmother's favorites.

My aunt's mother in law never bought a rose bush. She had a garden full of roses of every variety imaginable and they were all rooted directly in the garden. Whenever she saw a rose she liked she asked permission from the owner to take a cutting. They all thrived. I don't know if she did something special with them, something she didn't share with us, and sadly now that she has passed we'll never find out. It is from her that I learned how to start a rose cutting under a mason jar, a technique I had success with in my own garden.

My grandmother had only one rose in her tiny part shade garden, but it was such a large specimen that it defined the character of the place making every other plant fade into the background and take a supporting role. I don't know the history of that rose but she cared for it with love and devotion, as one would for a beloved pet.

The second thing I learned is that roses are gracious company; if they have good sunshine they don't overcrowd their neighbors or grab all the nutrients out of the soil. This is what makes them a favorite in the cottage garden where every square inch is carefully planned. They grow tall but cast almost no shadow, so many low growing plants can thrive around their roots.

The third thing I learned is that you don't have to provide extreme care to keep them thriving, nor will excessive amounts of fertilizer, fungicide and insect repellant keep them from looking pitiful if they so decide. A healthy established rose needs no care at all. They are the plants that last for years through draughts and freezes in neglected gardens, old cemeteries and middle of nowhere rest stops where they bloom with abandon in the absence of deadheading, pruning and mulching, just to keep you humble.

The fourth thing is that you are not going to find the perfect rose that blooms all the time, has spectacular fragrant flowers, is adapted to zones 2 through 10 and loves 100% humidity. Mostly the story goes like this: if it blooms perpetually it doesn't smell, if it smells it is sensitive to black spot, if it's disease resistant it needs winter protection, if it is freeze hardy it will not bloom in summer. There are a few exceptions to this rule, observe exhibit A above, the "Peace" rose, which is also an easy rose to start from cuttings, by the way.

One last thing, they like the fall. The colder it gets, the more they bloom. Why? I have absolutely no idea.

Old rose variety

I admit, I am a fool for old garden roses, even though they only bloom once a year. Of course this is not an old garden rose but a charming Dave Austin hybrid and for this reason it repeats until frost.

Like all the roses in my garden it loathes the heat and refuses to perform until the weather cools to its liking, so it waited until now to put out a fresh spray of flowers. Did I mention it's fragrant?

Blushing beauty

Today it rained, a cold and drizzly sprinkle that clearly announces summer is far behind. I don't know why roses like October so much, the light is too dull, the air is too cold, and not in the refreshing way it is in spring.

I noticed roses really don't like summer, at least mine don't. They always take a break between the end of June and the middle of September no matter how much pampering I dote on them.

Week 42 - October 21, 2013

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Double, double toil and trouble

We braved the elements this Halloween, mother nature brought down whipping rain and stormy skies but the little ones were no worse for it.

Ghosts and goblins, princesses and witches, little bumble bees, mighty superheroes and suitably self-effacing parents with big grins on their faces. In the gloomy wet night the candles and lit pumpkin decorations glowed brighter, festooned by fuzzy halos that flickered cheerfully to accompany the ominous music and the happy faces of kids and grown-ups alike.

The children brought home way too much candy, as usual, and consumed most of it on the spot, to my dismay and subsequent bellyaching. Hey, Halloween is only once a year, one has to make allowances!

Because of the sharp mid-October chill and the mellow weather that followed everything is a flaming shade of yellow and orange, the apple tree practically glows. The sky is somber but everything in the vegetal realm lights up the garden.

The foliage is so beautiful I didn't mind having to dig myself out of generous piles of leaves, all I can say is eleven deciduous trees shed a lot of leaves in one season.

Indian Summer came early this year and the air is warm, humid and dead still, you can almost feel the stillness, not a breath of wind, not a sound in the trees, infinitely quiet. (If you are not familiar with this weather phenomenon, it is a brief period normally between November 11 and November 17 defined by very warm weather and no air movement, period normally followed by a severe frost.

With lots of giggles and hyperactivity the festivities of All-Hallows'-Eve came and went. I put the costumes away and returned the pumpkin to its original purpose which was pie, of course, but in light of the vast amounts of sugar ingested we decided to postpone the preparations a little.

Carrots - the other orange fruit

I couldn't help myself and had to brag, especially since I had very little hope of actually seeing root vegetables at the end of the season. Out of gratitude for the unexpected pampering the garden decided to grace upon me I'm making plans to amend the soil properly next year, with plenty of sand to allow the roots to grow bigger.

I can't believe how easy it is to grow root vegetables, as long as the soil is reasonably loose you can just sprinkle seeds in rows, thin them and forget about them until after the first frost when you pull them out. I wish I tried celery root, maybe next year!

The prized produce featured prominently in several soups and stews, this is so cool! All the carrots were grown in pots, my garden soil is too hard for them, and they went without water many times over the summer, nothing dissuades them.

Sadly the pulling of the carrots and parsnips marked the official end of this year's harvest and now I'm looking forward to planning next year's kitchen garden.

I had precious little success with herbs, I'm starting to think they don't like me. Despite the underwhelming performance I moved some parsley, basil and thyme indoors for the winter months, more for moral support than for garnishing food.

Cold weather hasn't even started yet and I'm already yearning for spring. I really don't like winter but at least this year I have a full garden of hellebores and the crazies bloom at the end of January, under the snow. Can't beat that!

Bragging rights

This year the garden yielded four eggplants, almost nine pounds of tomatoes, about one pound each of peppers, cucumbers, carrots and zucchini, and close to two pounds of green beans. Not bad for twenty square feet!

I will spend a lot more time planning the produce patch this winter, vegetable gardens are supposed to be orderly and well tamed, mine looked like a jungle all summer long.

Golden apple tree

Look at it glow! Yellow is a special treat this year, unusually adorning plants like day lilies, hostas and lilies. I haven't seen the apple tree dressed in this color before either.

The glowing yellow is slowly turning orange and copper, in harmony with the sugar maples, the burning bushes and the acacia trees. Colorful foliage, poetic imagery, yeah, yeah, still getting cold though!

Week 43 - October 28, 2013

COLD WEATHER COMFORTS

Fruit compote

I don't know how many people grew up with fruit compote as a staple of their diet. My grandparents made it throughout the summer to preserve fruit for the winter months and my grandmother's apricot compote was so good I still dream about it on occasion.

Unfortunately like most of my grandmother's recipes the success of this concoction required her presence and direct involvement and nobody could ever duplicate it, no matter how many times she shared it with us. The fruit delicacy had a lot more sugar than I was used to, contained all the apricot kernels (the nutty seeds are a yummy snack in and of themselves, they taste like slightly bitter almonds) and glorious vanilla beans.

She boiled the cut up fruit with lemon peel, vanilla (always the beans, never the extract) and sugar until the mix got syrupy, the thicker the syrup, the longer the compote lasts. She blanched the kernels to ease removing their bitter skins and added them to the boiling syrup to get them soft and sweet and fragrant with vanilla.

To obtain brilliant jewel colors for the syrup the fruit and its peels were boiled separately, then the peels were strained and the halved and pitted fruit was added back to the syrup with a tablespoon of lemon juice to enhance both color and flavor. The halved apricots stayed whole and crisp in the amber syrup, embellished by the softened bitter sweet kernels and the twisty vanilla rods.

Like with all fruit preserves, the reward of doting on a boiling sugary mix over a hot stove is the aroma in your kitchen: vanilla, lemon zest, sugar and fragrant fruit, what's not to like?

Heartwarming soups

There is great comfort in a wispy bowl of hot soup on a cold winter day, whether it is the all times favorite, the chicken noodle, the creamy, melty seafood chowder, the sweet crunchy corn kernel, the smooth textured potato cheddar, the sophisticated French onion, the spicy creamy tortilla, the complex broccoli cheese, or the silky lobster bisque, the list could go on forever.

During the cold gloomy months their flavors linger around the house like a warm blanket, self-indulgent and reassuring, just what you want to experience when you come in from the cold.

If you are like me you too would try to explain to the children that sour borscht with meatballs, egg and lemon drop, beef consommé, sixteen bean and bacon or cream of cauliflower are also wonderful culinary delicacies, but sadly my argument fell on deaf ears and they drew the line at matzo ball soup.

Aahh, broth! You can almost tell the weather is cooling by the frequency with which it shows up on the table. First come the creamy orange squashes, then the sweetly fragrant root vegetables, then the bean and potato soups that take you through the end of February when greenery sprouts to provide fresh vitamins to winter weary humans fending off cabin fever: spinach soup, nettle soup, watercress soup, sorrel soup, salad soup, you name it, if it's leafy and edible, into the pot it goes. Not child approved, of course, since green. Apparently pea soup as a cinematic prop had lasting impact.

If you like green soups however, try Swiss chards, they are spicy, lemony and flavorful.

Xocolatl

My son shared an ancient Aztec recipe he learned about in school and requested we test it, which we did. It is quite appealing to the grown-up palate, an acquired taste like coffee or blue cheese, even though the complete lack of sugar gave it a thumbs down from the kids.

If you want to experience this very old brew you will need a quarter cup of cocoa powder, five and a half cups of water and one chili pepper, sliced, seeds and all. Bring the chili to a boil in one and a half cups of water, strain the liquid, add the cocoa and the rest of the water and simmer until smooth. I kind of liked it, the hot pepper gives it an interesting zing.

Fresh from the baker

Baking is a craft that requires an unhurried spirit. It can't be rushed, you can't explain it or measure the quantities perfectly, you have to feel the dough with your hands and know when it's just right. You wait patiently by the covered bowl of rising bread, enjoy the aroma that fills the house and the warmth of the oven, a perfect activity for a dreary November day with whipping winds and falling leaves.

You spend hours kneading and peeking to see if the dough is ready and get back hours of pure contentment. There is nothing like the smell of fresh bread in the kitchen in winter, nothing, I tell you!

Week 44 - November 4, 2013

YEP, IT'S SNOW!

Frost on grass

Speaking of evergreens an obvious one that nobody thinks of as such is grass. Whether it is under the snow or exposed to single digit temperatures grass often doesn't go into hibernation, a fact often overlooked in the hustle and bustle of holiday preparations, muddy cold days and snow shoveling.

It feels strange to me that my fescue/blue grass mix stays green through the cold season but goes dormant as soon as the weather turns hot and dry in the middle of summer. The only time of the year when this grass dies down is when everything else is at the peak of vegetative growth, especially heat loving meadow flowers like lavenders, daisies and thistles.

Now the green blades peek from under the snow, crisp in the cool air and reminding me how high maintenance they really are. Trust me, a patch of grass requires three times the amount of work required for a perennial bed of the same size and no amount of effort is ever enough. I wrestle an endless fight with the weeds, perennial or otherwise, and between the treatments, the aeration, the mowing, the watering and the reseeding of bald patches the work never ends.

Meanwhile the perennial flower beds gingerly take care of themselves, not picky about draughts or an occasional weed, only in need of the sporadic deadheading if the spirit moves me.

The thought makes me frown at the grass which is of course oblivious to my discontent and looks very pretty as the chilled sunshine glows through the ice crystals festooning its blades.

Winter landscape

Snow really came early and brought frigid temperatures in its trail. I quickly went through the fall garden work checklist to see if I forgot anything. Plant spring bulbs, check. Clean up leaves, check. Clean up dried-up annual stems, not so much. And now it snowed on them.

Snow in November, ugh! I take another tour of the garden and notice the roses are frozen half open; they will probably resume blooming as soon as the snow melts. There is not much else going on, the season of hibernation arrived.

A fleeting patch of sunshine gave me just the right illumination to bring out the magic of the winter landscape. It created haloes of golden light around the unassuming grasses against the fresh background of the snow. The quick snapshot looks like the pictures in gardening books and that warms my heart in spite of the freezing weather.

I don't really believe in winter landscaping, one red stick does not a garden make, especially when everything around it is brown and gray and the sky bears down like lead. The cone flower seed heads look blackened and creepy in the cold wet air, the grasses soon start taking the dreary appearance of damp hay and the pretty red berries on the trees get consumed long before the end of the winter.

I like to think of the cold season as a time for the garden to rest, it certainly deserves it.

Evergreens

Generally when you think evergreens an image of some plant with needles comes to mind but they come in all forms and sizes from the surprisingly fragile low mounding of candytuft to the starched stiffness of hellebores, whose leaves have the tension and resilience of metal sheet.

The yew in the picture is one of the often overlooked structural elements of the garden. People plant yews to conceal what's behind them rather than for the charm of the yews, I thought it deserved a picture, especially now with a graceful dusting of snow on top.

Deep purple sedum

I haven't seen this purple on sedums before, this fall's weather patterns created very colorful foliage on plants that are normally quite subdued. The hosta and daylily leaves shone a sunny yellow variegated with lime green and copper and the sedums turned purple.

I'm so looking forward to the new shade garden next spring, sedums feature prominently in it. I didn't think I'd be able to plant that area of my garden, it had too much shade, tree roots and ivy, and I am simply giddy with anticipation.

Week 45 - November 11, 2013

JUST CATS

Awww!

Why are we talking about cats in a gardening weekly you ask? Because its mid-November and all the plants are done for, that's why. So, just cats then.

Look at this snow princess, have you ever seen a more delightful creature in your life? Persian cats have a decorous personality that unfairly earned them the reputation of furniture with fur. They aren't a very active and sociable breed, one has to earn their trust and affection and they are not given to antics even as kittens. It takes a lot of work to maintain this spotless coat, daily brushing, a balanced diet, a low stress environment, and unwarranted fussing makes kitty uncomfortable.

If Snow White ignores you it might not be because of a superiority complex, but just because it can't hear you. The genes that carry the white coat color make cats prone to deafness and having two blue eyes (a surprising number of white cats are odd-eyed) raises the likelihood of congenital hearing loss to over eighty percent.

White cats in general are rare which makes their abundance of peculiarities even more unique. The only reason white Persians seem commonplace is because they have been selectively bred to meet the high demand for their fluffy snowball kittens.

The gene that imparts white fur to felines is a dominant masking gene. If it is present the cat may have several colors but not express them. The same gene is responsible for deafness and the screening of pigmentation which renders their eyes blue. It only acts upon these areas in degrees whereas its presence always makes the cats' coats white.

Long haired white breeds are three times as likely to be hard of hearing in both ears than their short haired counterparts. Cats with a dominant masking gene and albino cats are white for different reasons: the former, whose pigmentation is masked, will have blue eyes, the latter, whose pigmentation is absent, will have pink eyes.

Deaf white cats are very sensitive to light due to the scarcity of pigmentation in their irises; this also increases their risk of sunburn.

It is possible for a cat to be completely white without albinism or the masking gene, but it is extremely rare. The phenomenon is known as white spotting.

Tropical dreams

If you want to know the softest, warmest and most comfortable place in a room just let a cat pick it. They will always find the plush sheltered chair, the cozy patch of sunshine on the carpet, the soft velvet pillow close to the fireplace, the warm chenille blanket, and the all times favorite, the floor heating grille.

When outdoors they seek sun baked flagstones and bask in the heat of ceramic roof tiles at high noon.

Cats are very fond of warmth and can tolerate temperatures twenty degrees above those that would make humans very uncomfortable; there are anecdotes about them seeking shelter on top of terracotta stoves, behind glass kilns, in front of bread ovens, sometimes so close to the fire their whiskers get singed.

So what better place for a cat to be than the tropics where the temperature never drops below seventy and where there is always an abundance of foliage for a comfortably sheltered nook. Did you know there are cat populations on tiny uninhabited islands in the middle of the ocean? No doubt descendents of ship's cats who snuck off their boats unnoticed.

Cat on the roof

If you are not a cat you don't realize how annoying humans can be. They will find you anywhere and they always want to pick you up (the indignity!), so you have to be nimble and find yourself little nooks and crannies that are simply out of reach.

This kitty found itself a spot one can't access unless one weighs under fifteen pounds, has no shoulders and is able to squeeze through a four inch gap. The fact that it happens to be twenty feet above ground doesn't hurt either. Finally some peace and quiet!

Abraham deLacey, Giuseppe Casey

Did you know that ginger female cats are quite rare? If you see Thomas O'Malley roaming around your garden on his daily route there is a very good chance that it really is a tomcat.

Eighty-five percent of the orange tabbies are male, apparently the responsible gene is rarely active in female cats unless both parents are ginger. Marmalade cats are considered the friendliest, most outgoing cat breeds. Their sunny personality is very accommodating of people, especially small children.

Week 46 - November 18, 2013

### WATERFALLS AND RAINBOWS

One rainbow

When a ray of sunshine meets a droplet of water at exactly forty eight degrees the white light enters the spherical raindrop and diffracts in the denser medium, displaying the whole visible spectrum from red to violet. The colorful rays bounce against the inside of the water sphere and exit the droplet at varying angles to spread out in the sky like a circular fan against the backdrop of distant rainclouds.

The bigger the water droplet the larger, brighter and clearer the rainbow. The ray of sunshine has to hit the raindrop at exactly forty eight degrees. At steeper angles the light goes right through the tiny sphere and comes out the other side without diffracting. At wider angles it bounces off the surface, never entering the raindrop at all.

Because red exits the raindrop at a smaller angle than blue rainbows always have red at the top and violet at the bottom. Their real form is a full circle or more precisely a thin slice of a cone, an extraordinary visual people can only experience from very high altitudes, whereas the normal perspective only yields the familiar graceful bow.

It is said that rainbows symbolize provision, abundance, the grace of God's protection, a celestial bridge that unites heaven and earth.

The Irish will of course mention the pots of gold, I don't know, I haven't found one yet, but I can tell you with certainty that the leprechauns guarding them can't enjoy the colorful bows. The sunshine and the rain have to be on opposite sides of the observer in order for him or her to perceive a rainbow, with the sun behind and the storm clouds ahead holding the gripping optical illusion in place like a pair of firmament book stops.

Two rainbows

Double rainbows are considered extremely rare but this is the second one I experienced during Indian Summer in the last three years. The strange weather pattern in the middle of November combines unseasonably warm weather with very still air and a high level of humidity. The summer-like rainstorms and the low angle of the winter sun make it very easy for rainbows to form.

There are several explanations why double rainbows appear. One accepted version is that the secondary rainbow is a reflection of the primary one in a flattened raindrop in the atmosphere.

The secondary rainbow is in this case a fading mirror image, its array is reverted and the colors are dimmer and less defined than those of the primary rainbow. Depending on how far the "mirror" is the rainbows can be apart and distinct or combine to create symmetrical arches whose seven colors repeat.

The explanation for asymmetrical rainbows might be that some of the light that enters the raindrop bounces against the inside of the imperfect sphere more than once and comes out of the droplet through a different point.

Because the experience is precisely determined by the position of the observer (no two people can see the same rainbow), it is almost impossible for two different rainbows to form independently and be seen by the same person. Double rainbows generally form as described above and when triple or quadruple rainbows occur they are usually helped along by reflective surfaces like glass or bodies of water.

Underground waterfall

Hidden in the deepest entrails of the Lookout Mountain Cavern in Tennessee there is a spectacular treasure, Ruby Falls. One hundred and forty five feet tall and more than one thousand feet underground it emerges from an unknown spring, graces its harsh rocky bed with a lacy veil and vanishes into the depths of the earth never to be found again.

Several attempts were made to dye the water and find where it exits the cave but it doesn't, it just flows back into even deeper caverns not ready yet to be revealed.

Living in motion

Other plants would be stressed by the continuous water movement but not the brook mosses.

Mosses don't have a root system or a vessel structure to distribute food and nutrients throughout the plant, they anchor themselves to a rock or a tree trunk and are completely dependent on air and water movement for their moisture and nutrients.

This picture may look like a symbol of overcoming difficulty to the bystander but it is actually the closest to plant heaven mosses can get.

Week 47 - November 25, 2013

WINTER REVERIE

The art of dreaming

Dreaming is an gift, just like patience, just like happiness. It comes to us free when we're born but we lose track of it through our life's grumbles, through the 'can't do's, 'must not's and 'maybe later's.

You get lost in thought gazing at a barren winter garden and your dreams weave new color schemes and anticipate honeysuckle and lily fragrance. All of a sudden you are six again, that extraordinary age when everything was new and miraculous, when you didn't question what was possible and you weren't realistic and reasonable.

The garden in your mind grows with new flowers, colorful foliage, and maybe that fragrant shrub you always wanted. Little stepping stones appear, leading the way through shady nooks to a place that would be just perfect for a climbing rose if only you added an arbor. A little bench, a tall bird bath, flowering myrtle flowing over the edge of an old retaining wall.

Something always snaps you out of your reverie, the cat jumps on the kitchen counter, the kids start chasing each other around the house, the phone rings. The wonderful picture slowly melts before your eyes and you go back to keeping track of your deadlines and forget all about it.

The landscape of your dreams doesn't go away, though. It waits patiently in a deep recess of your mind and pops out when you least expect it, nudging you to bring it to reality. Sooner or later you have to make it happen at least in part if you want to have some peace because every time you look at your garden you remember its ideal image etched inside your brain. Add that arbor, place those stepping stones, plant those perennials that take decades to mature, they won't leave you be if you don't.

Some people call this obsessing, I choose to call it art. The art of dreaming.

Little drops of sunshine

Come February the flower department at the grocery store overflows with cheerful blossoms. I can never resist them, of course, and this is how this perennial cutie made it to my home. It drew me close with its enticing fragrance (primroses have a delightful perfume), even though the cheerful yellow would have been reason enough.

If you have a cottage garden you must have primroses. Almost as nostalgic and old-fashioned as the violets the primroses share their heart-shaped leaves, their demure demeanor and avid spreading habits, their charming scent and their simply romantic flowers. They don't tolerate draughts or full sun exposure well but will not mind heavy soils.

Primroses are not demanding plants, though not long lived. Their blooming season is incredibly long, spanning from mid-February until way into May.

There is a lot of folklore associated with the primrose, some quirky and cheery, some sad and heartbreaking. I'll just go through a few superstitions I found fascinating.

In the old times people believed primroses could give them the ability to see fairies and also protect folks from the magical beings' well-known mischief.

If you are raising chickens never get a primrose posy with less than thirteen flowers or some of the eggs under the hen won't hatch. Bringing the flowers indoors, especially in groups of less than thirteen spells miserable luck and certain doom.

In Germany primroses are called key flowers because of a legend associated with them: a little girl found a door covered in flowers, touched it with a primrose and discovered an enchanted castle. The cute yellow flowers are thought to grow over buried treasure and open passage to secret worlds.

As far as the flowers in the picture are concerned, they came from the grocery store in a pot. I didn't count the blossoms before I brought them inside the house but I'm still breathing, so I assume they were at least thirteen. I waited until the end of March and planted them in the back yard. I'll watch them carefully this spring and if they bloom I'll dig for treasure!

Why I garden

It is easy to forget at the end of November how bountiful, special and miraculous the botanical world can be. There is no limit to the exuberance of greenery in spring, the garden doesn't need a reason to pour fourth abundance.

After the fall clean-up is finally over and two rounds of snow already rolled in this picture looks unreal, as if from another dimension where this profusion of color is possible, but I know it's not, it is just my back yard at a different time of the year, a time I'll get to enjoy again soon, and this is why I garden.

In joy

I miss daffodils when the weather turns cold so I plant more and more every fall, each spring realizing I didn't plant enough. This year I focused on fragrance and most new varieties are classic jonquil yellow.

There is a large clump of daffodils in front of my door, they've been there for a long time, hidden in the ivy ground cover. Because of the northern exposure and the shade of mature trees they bloom very late, with the lilacs and the peonies, after all the other spring bulbs have faded.

Week 48 - December 3, 2013

GARDENING IN WINTER

So sweet

I'm so taken by these beautiful cyclamens (only two flowers show in this photo but the plant is covered in them, I counted at least fourteen and they keep sprouting enthusiastically) I almost don't care the outside temperature has dropped to the low twenties. I said almost. The chill is brutal and frost bite inducing. Even the cat refused to pass over the threshold and step in the frozen snow despite the fact that the sun shines deceptively bright over the frigid landscape.

Pangs of guilt pushed me out into the cold to hang a little suet cake with berries for the birds and two minutes later I couldn't feel my hands. It's not easy being a sparrow, I wonder how they keep warm.

I need to fix the feeder and fill it with seeds too, it attracts the most colorful array of birds, blue jays, black-capped chickadees, red and brown cardinals, rusty robins, I didn't even know wildlife in this area was so diverse before I got said feeder, the birds usually stay out of sight.

Since I was outside anyway I took pictures for this week's articles, sacrificing creature comforts for the sake of interesting imagery. Sadly there was none, just gray tree bark, snow and some dried-up sticks that got in my face to remind me that I didn't clean them up before snowfall.

It's time for Christmas decorating, hot cocoa and potted winter bulbs. The amaryllis isn't looking very promising yet. I'll just move it in front of the south facing window and be patient, last year it waited until February to bloom.

Winter berries

Maybe I should have paid more attention to plants that provide winter interest. The berries are pretty indeed but that's the full extent of bright color in what is essentially a black and white picture.

A couple of years ago I tried Kerria Japonica, a charming shrub with cute yellow flowers and bright lime green stems but sadly it didn't survive the first winter.

The grasses are pale straw yellow and the seed heads of sedums and cone flowers faded to a dull coal color that is disturbing rather than decorative. I know the birds like the cone flower seeds so I leave them in the garden over the winter, but they are not a pretty sight. The rugosa roses didn't produce their famed bright orange hips.

Next year might be more interesting, Solomon's Seal has pretty purple berries, oh, what am I saying, it's dreary winter time!

On a cheerier note the mini garden on the kitchen window sill soothes my soul, it's so comforting to enjoy the scent of fresh basil, cilantro and thyme in the middle of winter.

The hot peppers continue to produce reliably and are very decorative, this is the second winter the plant is spending indoors.

I sown mustard in one of the pots just out of curiosity and I think it sprouted, we'll just have to wait and see how big it grows.

Garden in progress

I know it doesn't look like much right now, but this is a fully designed shade garden, a garden of sedums, daylilies and hellebores mostly. There are many other plants in it that I haven't seen in a while - old-fashioned hollyhocks, lupines, scillas, and others that I have never seen before: lady's mantle and beautifully stately fairy candles.

The other side of the pathway receives full sun exposure which makes the location perfect for carnations, delphiniums and geraniums. I'm so waiting for spring!

Leaves on snow

Winter came much sooner than anticipated this year and the tree next to my window still has most of its leaves on. The few that fell did so after the snow creating this unusual image.

More clean-up for spring, yey! Some gardeners recommend mulching the leaves into the lawn. In my experience the leaf mulch is too acidic for the grass but I don't rake the leaves off the shady flower beds, the additional acidity and the nutrient rich humus really help the woodland plants thrive.

Week 49 - December 10, 2013

MORE SNOW? SURE!

Potential

If you were to ask me what was in this pot the simple answer would be snow covered dirt but simple answers, though factually accurate, usually don't address the question.

I don't know what's in this pot, at least not yet, I haven't planted it. I know what was in it last year - impatiens, and the year before that - bright blue lobelia flowing over its brim like water.

I could plant violets, lily of the valley or spring bulbs and then know what's in the pot for years to come. I could stick with impatiens, they really performed well last year. Fragrant flowers would be nice even though they usually don't have a very long blooming season, not in the shade anyway.

A mix of silver miller and wax begonias could work well, or colorful coleus. I could try myrtle or ivy and let it drape over the edges like a graceful vegetal doily or plant a few miniature hostas, the scented type, for a fragrant purple bouquet at the end of summer.

It could be a specimen planting of foam flower or coral bells or a shade plant I haven't tried before, like flowering fern.

What's in this pot? An entire winter of daydreaming and anticipation, the delight of poring through gardening books and browsing sites to find just the right plant combination, a soon to be cheerful posy to soothe my eyes as I walk to the front door.

What's in this pot? Joy and happiness.

Dazed and confused

Even the garden light seems to have given up, it snowed for days. I shudder, cozy up in front of the fireplace between the gingerbread house and the Christmas tree and go over snow trivia. Here is more than you ever wanted to know about snow and freezing.

Snow's weight varies widely between 7 lbs per cubic foot for fresh fluffy snow and 20 lbs per cubic foot for compacted snow. To get some perspective about how much air is packed between those fluffy flakes water weighs 62.5 lbs per cubic foot.

A snowflake is a fractal, a set of self-similar elements of varying scales that combine to create a detailed endlessly repeating pattern.

It can snow even if the temperature is above freezing and it can rain even if the temperature is below freezing. It is not true that freezing temperatures make snowfall impossible, if the relative humidity of the air is approaching 100% it will snow.

According to the U.S. National Climate Extremes Committee, the greatest 24-hr snowfall on record was 75.8 inches at Silver Lake, Colorado on April 14-15, 1921.

Yes, it does snow in Hawaii. It snows there every year but only at the summits of the tallest volcanoes (Mauna Loa, Mauna Kea and Haleakala) between 10000 and 13000 feet. Yes, it snows at the Equator too, on mount Kilimanjaro at 19,000 feet. Yes, it snows over the open ocean.

The coldest temperature on Earth was recorded in Antarctica, where a NASA satellite sensed -135.8°F and -135.3°F in August 2010 and this past July. These temperatures are lower than the point of sublimation for carbon dioxide.

Normal liquids contract on freezing and expand on melting. Water expands 9% upon freezing because its molecules take up more space when aligning in electrochemically crystalline form but bunch tightly together attracted by their hydrogen bonds in liquid form.

Ten inches of fresh snow approximate the insulating value of six-inches of fiberglass insulation with an R-value of R-18.

Oh, well...

The temperature is 26F and it will snow again tonight and tomorrow. I wish I had holly with pretty berries and evergreen leaves but I don't, just this really unsightly dried-up brush.

To think that winter hasn't officially started yet! The Farmer's Almanac long range weather forecast predicts heavy snow at the beginning of December and at the end of March. Just something to look forward to.

A boulder of ivy

I never actually saw the boulder underneath this dense matting of ivy, it might be a tree stump for all I know.

Somebody planted a few surprises under the thick green blanket a long time ago and now every year daffodils and tulips spring forth in unlikely places and dainty violet blossoms peek through the glossy foliage. Vinca grew through the ivy and the ground cover is hemmed in spring with indigo blue flowers.

Week 50 - December 17, 2013

ANGELS

What?!

The little angel is looking out the window into the winter garden to see snow fall slowly on potted thyme and squirrels methodically empty the bird feeder. I don't know what angelic host it represents: she is dressed in red, has golden wings and holds a harp, that doesn't narrow it down much.

She looks perplexed with her mouth half-opened as if ready to ask "What is that?!", which starts me wondering. Is it the tomato chords I didn't clean up at the end of fall? Is it the leaves I left on the flower beds? Is it the hose I forgot to store for winter? Is it the squeaky gate? Is it the colorful birdhouse on the top of the fence post? What?!

I look out and see the bleak landscape, as expected. I have to remember to purchase bare root roses before nurseries run out of them, I always wait until the end of winter when there aren't any left. That new fence just screams for two clematis plants. They should be Nelly Moser or Jubilee, I love the abundance of flowers. Maybe some honeysuckle too.

The vegetable bed needs serious reorganizing, every year it grows into an unmanageable jungle towards the end of August. I really should start researching perennials for next spring even if it is supposed to snow in March. Summer and fall bulbs too.

I keep thinking of trying false dragonhead, maybe next year will be the one. I wonder when that vineyard is going to start blooming, it's been six years already, maybe I'm not caring for it properly, I need to get the gardening book out and read more about it. Still no sundial, oh, the procrastination...Some catmint would look nice in the dappled shade.

Lucky for me night falls and all attention is rightfully redirected indoors and towards the gleaming Christmas tree. My list of gardening chores just expanded.

Angel with a book in her hands

This is undoubtedly a modern representation of the angel Uriel who is almost always shown holding a book or a scroll in her hands.

Uriel, whose name means "God is my light" in Hebrew, is the angel of wisdom and divine inspiration. She is said to clarify confusing issues, deliver essential information in critical situations, facilitate conflict resolution, thwart danger, motivate and empower people to serve those in need.

Like all angels she is a being of pure light, a bodiless power, a heavenly host.

Did you know that every angel is an unrepeatable being, a species in and of itself essentially different from every other angel?

The farther I dove into trying to learn more about my winged book holding companion the more I realized how multifaceted angels are. Uriel for instance is also the angel of repentance, she's said to be the one who stands guard at the Gate of Eden with a fiery sword. She is also the angel of the southern winds, the angel of Sunday, the angel of poetry. She warned Noah about the flood, she is called an archangel, a cherub, a saint, a sephirot of nothingness, an angel of presence. I stopped after a while, the complexity of her being was making my head spin.

She stands quietly on the book shelf among children's stories and history books, technical manuals and fiction, watching a Nativity scene musical snow globe and resting her wings. I hope she's happy...

Sparkle

There was a lot of sparkle around the Christmas tree this year, too much excitement for our tiny cat.

She hid for a while and observed the giggles and the cheery commotion with some reluctance, then ascertained that the strange appearance of a tree in the middle of the living room didn't pose a threat and found great places to hide in and around it.

...and shine

Music is said to be the language of the angels and the archangel Sandalphon, the patron angel of music and prayer is the one who rules over it in Heaven.

When you think about angels and their musical instruments remember they mostly play trumpets and harps (the angel in the photo is a harpist). I know it is an unusual combination, they devote most of their energy to singing though.

Week 51 - December 24, 2013

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Glad tidings

Our days run in sequence like beads on a string but life only reveals its purpose when contemplated as a whole. In the tapestry of being happy moments and significant events stand out and connect ineffably to give our time on earth meaning and celebrate our uniqueness.

Quick snapshots of our passing through time take iconic significance under the weight of decades: weddings and anniversaries, children's first Christmases, happy family vacations and graduation pictures, school concerts and pumpkin patch trips, time spent with friends and loved ones, baby's first ultrasound, our childhood homes, celebrations of success, beloved pets. Our pictures are the synthesis of a beautiful, valuable and unrepeatable existence.

I bring you glad tidings and wishes of happiness and peace for the holidays and the new year. May the excitement of the festivities shine light on your dreams and help you remember what you stand for, whom you love, what you want to become.

Remember to immortalize the joyful moments and take a little time to jot down a few words to go with the images, a date, a place, a name.

It may feel like a chore today but those few notes will become meaningful decades later, maybe to you in your golden years, maybe to those babies in the pictures, maybe to their own children, just like my grandmother's photo on her eighteenth birthday is priceless to me now, almost ninety years later.

O Christmas tree

If you were wondering which was better for the environment, the real or the artificial tree, a life cycle assessment study reached the conclusion they are about equal in terms of environmental impact. This will surely assuage the guilt of the tree purists who couldn't come to terms with the harvesting of so many coniferous saplings. It seems that Christmas trees are just another crop like corn or soybeans.

This year saw three trends in Christmas tree decoration: the muted vintage style, with rosy feminine colors and delicate lacy accents, the silver and gold with shimmery lights and crystal icicles and the traditional deep red and green holiday style with antique handmade decorations. Just in case you find these styles too conventional I will share a few out of the box ideas I came across while browsing:

1. The Lego Christmas tree donning Lego decorations to match.

2. The reflected tree, one half of the tree is real, one half mirror image.

3. The tree outline in lights and baubles on a wall, on a bookshelf, on the side of a hill.

4. The Cheshire tree which isn't really there, its shape is implied by the decorations that seem to be hanging from its invisible branches.

5. The pillow tree, a pile of gradually diminishing decorative pillows.

6. The sushi tree made entirely out of sushi.

7. The upside down tree, which was popular a few years ago and seemed to have made a comeback.

8. A tree made entirely out of crystal.

9. The helical topiary tree.

10. The Georgian Chichilaki tree which is made from shaved hazelnut and walnut branches and looks like a weeping Truffula tree spun from sugar and nougat.

I stuck with the conventional style, upside up and covered in tinsel, ornaments and tiny lights. I didn't follow a particular style but it turned out beautiful like it does every year.

Fairytales

Traveling across Michigan in July we stopped in Frankenmuth to see the Bronner Christmas store. It's a unique experience to walk through a door and step into another season in the middle of the holidays: Christmas carols, glitz and glamour, shimmering trees covered in tinsel and crystal ornaments amplifying tiny lights.

We got lost in the maze of isles organized by country, by color, by material, attracted to one intricately detailed ornament or another like moths to a flame. Every day is Christmas in that place and I forgot it was July; when we walked out in the 98F heat I didn't expect it.

And odd customs

We made a gingerbread house, of course. We do that every year because we don't want the Yule Cat to eat us, Saint Nick to put sticks in our stockings, Krampus to beat us with branches or Santa to leave lumps of coal in our shoes.

We put the brooms away so evil spirits won't find them and didn't clean on Christmas Eve. We hid a pickle in the tree and decorated its boughs with silvery spider webs. We dropped an almond in the pudding and remembered to stir it in a clockwise direction, then we threw a spoonful of it at the ceiling and hoped it would stick.

Week 52 - December 31, 2013

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS

Summer and fall bulbs

Happy New Year, everybody! While I was making my New Year's resolutions I realized that the garden deserves its own list.

The first promise - more summer and fall bulbs. Last year I missed the lilies and don't even know if the gladioli bloomed at all. Late flowering bulbs are such undervalued gems in the summer garden I can't emphasise their great qualities enough. They have the same 'plant it and forget it' maintenance schedule as the spring bulbs but they bloom later with the exuberant summer perennials and are usually larger and showier than their early counterparts.

This year I planned to add more of these to the garden:

\- hardy gladioli, I just got the room for them so they won't be overcrowded and will have plenty of sunshine

\- irises, with any luck fragrant ones

\- giant drumstick alliums, they're like potato chips, you can't just have one

\- feathery liatris, a stunning and very long bloomed perennial

\- Grecian anemones which haven't made it to my garden last year and now I have to wait until next fall to plant

\- foxtail lilies for a pop of bright yellow, they bloom in part shade too

\- tuberous begonias for the shade and Persian buttercups for the sunny spots

\- tuberoses and fall blooming crocuses

\- maybe some more toad lilies

This is an exhaustive and unrealistically ambitious list but so are New Year's resolutions and I didn't want to break with tradition.

Fragrant flowers

The second promise - more fragrant flowers. There is already an empty spot next to the fence that requires a trellis and flowering climbing vines. I don't know if there is enough sunlight for honeysuckle, but I'll try it anyway.

Unfortunately there are not many shade perennials with scented flowers but hostas make up for this through sheer size and variety.

I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that the fairy candles I started from seed will germinate. They are a spectacular variety with almost black lacy foliage and long blush inflorescences that smell like honey and attract bees from miles away.

Just one more old rose (the addicted gardener can never have enough of them) and it will have to be fragrant.

More fragrant garden phlox, more lavender, fragrant alyssum, sweet peas and Firewitch dianthus, even if its blooming is so brief.

The list will grow as the warm season unfolds with other fragrant flowers that draw me near at the plant nursery.

Blooms for the shade

Third promise - flowers for the shade borders. Try as I might there are not many flowering plants for the shade. The ones that bloom usually do so in spring, before the tree canopies fill out.

Lucky for me we are talking about very light shade and some of the part sun perennials may find it acceptable: forget-me-nots, delphiniums, tiarella, oak-leaved hydrangeas,coral bells, daylilies, columbines and of course August lilies.

Aromatic herbs

Fourth promise - the long awaited herb garden. Every year I promise myself to create one that includes a sundial and every year I realize I don't have enough room in full sunlight to create one.

I really want an herb garden, though, and I will make room for it this year. I vow not to let bully plants like goldenrod, nicotiana and four o'clocks take over the sunny patch and keep the little seedlings weed free until they take off.

