rain

Nothing like a forecast of rain to make me think of cutting a few flowers for the house before they get plastered to the ground.

And nothing like a forecast of seven straight days of rain to make me think I might as well bring in most of the flowers.

It's a little too gloomy to get a sharp photograph, but this is pretty accurate for how muted they appear to me, across the room.

In contrast, the day before the rainy days:

I hope your day is just as sharp or as muted as you want it to be.

~~~~~

cold snaps

Christmas fern, Polystichum acrostichoides

Snaps taken this morning, after chores.

Strawberries, flowering a week ago in our "second Spring"

I had to be quick, because the sun was almost up and the frost would soon disappear.

Amsonia

I put a de-icer in the wildlife basin a couple of days ago.

It's an experiment, as for the first time, the basin is thick glass.

I've put the underwater heating element between stones, not near the glass. 

Fingers crossed.

~~~~~

rudbeckia returns

For the first time, a rudbeckia plant has survived a winter and reappeared!

This is one of the four rudbeckia plants I ordered from a nursery last year. This year it has already struggled through insect attacks that left many leaves tattered and many petals half-eaten before the blooms had even opened. But, as you can see:

the overall effect is one of Triumph and Beauty!

Each of the four was planted in a different place, in hopes in increasing chances of survival. This one was planted in a small bed right by the gate to the barn paddock. Whenever I walk past, I check to see if there are insidious insects chewing on the flowers, and if so, I knock them off. But this past week, there have been tiny bees working away at pollen collection!

Every morning I've thought, "I must go back for the camera," but by the time I've done even the slightest task - such as turning on the hose and passively watching it fill the goats' water buckets - there is sweat literally dripping from my hair, and my clothes are sticking to my entire body. When I get back into the cooler house, the camera is no longer on my mind.

Until today! Today I chanted "camera, camera, camera," as I walked back to the house. Went in, pulled off the leather gloves that were sticking to my fingers, grabbed the camera and went right back out.

One of the little goat-combing folding chairs was conveniently at hand, as I had used it last night to avoid 20 minutes of leaning while doing barnyard macrame on the lower part of a stock panel. So this morning I pulled that little folding chair right up to the rudbeckia and started making bee portraits.

A nearby patch of bee balm was hosting a group of big furry bumblebees, but the rudbeckia was providing an exclusive pollen party for a number of tiny bees from what I think is the family Halictidae - and that, my friends, is as far as I am willing to go on the bee id's. I started to look into it, but it's a huge family, and I have to save some of my small memory bank for remembering whose hooves need to be trimmed and whether or not I've paid my bills this month.

Besides, no name is needed. I'm happy just to see these amazing little creatures.

And these amazing flowers.

~~~~~

tuesday tints

Moxie would like to draw your attention to one of the new anemones.

She's staying in the background so her flower can have the spotlight.

This Spring I wanted to plant something special in a spot between the barns.

Remembering my wonderful experience with a Japanese anemone purchased on a whim at a local nursery last year, I decided to look for anemone bulbs.

But in a different color.

These anemone bulbs, ordered online, were advertised as "the deepest blue."

Not all the flowers are quite so deeply blue,

and even the darkest ones may gradually turn paler.

But they are all very pretty shades of blue, violet, and lavender.

If anyone knows anything about these plants, please share in the comments! I really didn't know what to expect apart from that "deepest blue" description, as I didn't buy the bulbs from a nursery. It was an experiment, and the plants are probably quite a different variety or even a different species of anemone, Some of the stems on the Japanese anemone of last year were waist-high, and the plant grew into a robust clump. The new ones are smaller - more like 12 inches tall - and less sturdy. I also remember the pink flowers lasting a remarkably long time, while the blue ones are gone in a few days. Of course the weather has been dreadfully hot, which may be a factor. I keep trimming off the spent flowers in hopes of encouraging more growth and blooms. And I'll try to protect the bulbs over the Winter, to return in the Spring.

We'll see!

~~~~~

sunday garden snaps

Rooting Old North Sea strawberry runners.

The Chelona has begun to shine.

I don't think I can post garden pictures without including the zinnias.

And here's a Painted Lady (Vanessa cardui) on a zinnia.

(You should probably click to embiggen this one.)

Goats happily soaking up the sun after yesterday's rain and gloom.

The Supervisor.

Are we all ready for the new week?

Let's hope it brings only good things.

~~~~~

wordy thursday

At the moment, rain or shine, my world is many shades of green.
These pictures were taken yesterday, when it wasn't raining.

I was checking a transplanted clump of Chelone lyonii

and there next to it was this razzle-dazzle:

A nice surprise - white spiderwort appearing in an unexpected place.

The first comfrey flowers of 2019:

Last year, my comfrey plant grew so tall and wide

it got flattened by it's own weight in a rainstorm.

And then continued to grow upward from it's prone position! It was huge.

I was told that comfrey doesn't need full sun, and "full sun" areas are at a premium here, so in the Autumn I divided the root mass and moved most of it to a new bed by the east boundary stone wall.

Now there are two plants, both doing nicely and beginning to bloom.

It remains to be seen if either or both will turn into another massive shrub-sized plant.

 Every year I look forward to jack-in-the-pulpit:

There are a couple of places where I expect to see it

and am careful not to cultivate until it is safely up.

But I always find it in other spots as well.

It often becomes hidden by other plants growing up around it -

as this one, now surrounded and overtopped by violets.

And concluding today's program:

one of the new rudbeckias.

Three are already blooming,and the fourth has several buds.

I don't know if any of the flowers will be as brown as my original plant,

but they are certainly bright and cheerful and very welcome.

~~~~~

what a day

It did not rain today!

I had a list of errands to be done in town, and did ALL of them. 

AND a couple that were not even on the list!

When I got home in the afternoon it was such a glorious day I walked around with the herd for a little while. The goats are soooo tired of rain. It was great to see them enjoying the fresh air and sunshine.

Oh, and I rescued little Iris from another potentially fatal adventure - this was the third. The way she's going, I seriously fear that little goat will not make old bones. But I'll do my best to keep her alive because I like her a lot and I'm hoping she'll grow up to be LeShodu without the attitude. I had hoped the same thing about her mama, Vinca, when she was born, but regret to report Vinca has been cranking up the attitude quite a bit recently. Here's hoping Iris will stay sweeter than both her mama and her grandmama, and will enjoy a long and happy life.

Speaking of hope, I've planted a new little garden of Spring bulbs out by the barn.

28 hyacinths and 3 irises and 40 tulips.

Nothing says "hope" like planting, I think.

And perhaps especially, planting in the Autumn for the Spring.

And speaking of Spring, look what I found out in the Upper West Side paddock, almost hidden beneath mushrooms and tiny ground-cover greenery:

A single violet!

What a great day. I hope yours was, too!

~~~~~

wordless wednesday

~~~~~

first of the muggy days

Rain was predicted today and I wanted to do a little more in the perennial garden. So I got outside early while it was still overcast and muggy and buggy.

I was driven back indoors after a couple of hours, not by rain but by black flies and fatigue. Shortly after, the sun came out - and the rain came down. A sunshower!

Now the rain has stopped, the sun is out, the humidity is up even higher, and everything in the world is dripping. I am so glad I got a little work done when I did.

I'm hoping it clouds up again before I go out to do chores while keeping an eye on Moxie. She has discovered another way out of the perimeter fence - this will be the third! - and the only way I'll find it is to casually watch her out of the corner of my eye. She'll never do it if I'm looking right at her or following her around. Moxie is a pistol!

She has two "modes."

Recovery:

and Full Speed Ahead!

~~~~~

gardening 2018

My plan for the 2018 gardens: start all the vegetables and flowers from seed. Choose with an eye to avoiding cross-pollination, so next year I can plant more saved seeds.

A week ago, I began to fill this bought-on-sale tinkertoy greenhouse with little peat pots and planters full of organic potting mix. And seeds.

Already, a few seeds have germinated!

The last of the vegetable seeds on my list - the pole beans - have finally been ordered. I had hoped to find them from a different source, but the type I want is apparently only available from one supplier, as they were nowhere (else) to be found. So let's hope the poor showing last year was due to the weather, and not the seed.

The only direct planting so far is flowers, from seed saved last year. In just the past few days, goutweed has sprung up and is already engulfing the violets that grow between established clumps of hyssop and other summer-booming perennials in the beds by the goat barns:

I've begun pulling out goutweed in patches - carefully, to protect the violets - and raking in bee balm seeds saved from plants that bloomed deep red last year:

Fingers crossed the bee balm seeds will sprout and the new plants will manage to grow above the next wave of goutweed.

It's still a little bit early to direct-seed vegetables, and the fence needs to be reinstalled on one side of the terrace garden. But my Occasional Helper and I have been working hard on something I've wanted for a long time: a permanent Very Raised Bed with straight sides. And while it is not finished yet, I am going to share a few WIP photographs because it's starting to look like what it's meant to be. And of course I already have plans for what I'll do differently if there's ever a chance to build another.

First day of building, May 3; Supervisor and assistant at hand.

Because of that fence situation mentioned above.

Toward the end of the first day of work: 

(At this point I said to the Occasional Helper, "You know, if I could ever plan a raised bed like a normal person, we'd be done now."
He said, "Yes, but where would be the fun in that?"
I like the way he thinks.)

Second day of work, May 10.
Just to be clear: we are not building stone walls. We are fencing in stone edges and filling the center before the stones can fall down.

End of second day.
Experimenting with mix of stones and poles along one side.
You know how I feel about experimenting.

Please note Moxie graciously providing scale:

Providing scale, plus...
There's Something In There Maybe!

I'm hoping we'll get Very Raised Bed III finished this week, but it may take two more sessions. The work is hard and only one person is doing about 90% of it.

Having the funny little greenhouse is a treat, because instead of fretting about not having the new bed or the terrace garden ready to plant, or when the black flies are too horrible to allow working in the perennial beds, I can just trot out to the greenhouse and plant up a few more peat pots. It's very satisfying.

~~~~~