Of Books, Blooms, and Dogs

It's a busy, busy time.  Weeds are growing as fast as the perennials and need to be pulled, and every flowerbed needs to be mulched.  Plant shopping has begun, and with the warm weather, I've been ignoring the average last frost date of May 15 to get an early start on some of the containers. The back porch is so filled with plant purchases already that no one can go through the back door without tripping over a flat of impatiens or all the Carex that came back with me from Texas.

Some tulips are still blooming in the shade garden, but perennials are quickly filling in.

So who has time to read a book?  Actually I do; it's still the best way to relax before falling asleep and to ensure I'll dream about something other than pulling weeds:)  When I realized it was time once again for the monthly meeting of The Book Review Club, I decided to critique the last book I have read, since it was freshest in my mind; it's also a departure from my usual genre.

Cooper Harrison is a broken man.  A former K-9 officer in Boston, he must take a leave of absence after being injured in an explosion during an arrest.  But the psychological scars are even worse, and he is so traumatized by the death of his beloved partner Argos that he resigns from the force.  Months later, he is offered a job by an old friend from his hometown as an animal control officer.  It's a step down in his career and his childhood home is filled with unhappy memories, but Coop's depression has led him to drinking and with his marriage falling apart, he decides to take the job, but only as a temporary position.


Cooper rents an isolated cabin so that his pacing during the middle of the night when he awakes from his nightmares about Argos won't be noticed by neighbors.  Even during the day, he is haunted by his past as he sees a ghost of a dog on his morning jogs around the lake.  But one day he realizes this is no ghost he is seeing, but a stray dog obviously frightened of humans, and he becomes determined to catch it.  Cooper spends days trying to lure the dog, going well beyond normal measures for an animal control officer.  When he finally is able to capture it, the dog is close to death and Coop's friend the vet recommends a merciful euthanasia.  But Cooper feels he owes it to this dog--and on a deeper level, to the memory of Argos--to do everything he can to save him.  He takes the dog into his home while he heals, but only until he finds his owner.  Finding the owner and the person responsible for cruelly abusing this dog becomes Cooper's mission and ultimately his salvation.

Sophie enjoying the late tulips. I don't think she tiptoes, but she hasn't knocked one over yet.

Obviously I'm a dog lover, but I don't usually read stories that focus on animals.  I still have vivid memories of being devastated by Old Yeller as a child.  When I watched the movie Marley and Me, I cried so hard at the end that I knew I could never read the book.  Other animal stories that have happier endings often seem too sappy or sentimental.  But there was something in the reviews of this bestseller that made me think it was worth reading, and I am glad I did.

Coconut's favorite spot while I garden is in the shade of the old lilac.

The Dog Who Saved Me is anything but sentimental.  Cooper Harrison has no intention of getting too attached to the Labrador who is nothing like his beloved German Shepherd Argos; in fact, he never gives him a name but simply calls him "the yellow dog."  Even though small parts of the book are written from the dog's perspective, they are believable in explaining his instinctive reactions and help to explain how the dog became so frightened of humans.

When Older Daughter asked us to keep Frank, a rescue Pug, I said we already had enough dogs in the house.  But who could resist a face like this??

I enjoyed Susan Wilson's novel because it is much more than just a dog story.  As Cooper climbs out of his depression, he finds himself attracted to a woman with her own need to heal.  He also must deal with his estranged father Bull, a Vietnam vet and recovering alcoholic, and Jimmy, his hardened ex-con brother.  Ultimately, Cooper Harrison finds personal redemption, and yes, the book does have a happy ending.

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@Barrie Summy

And now a few scenes from the garden where spring is rapidly turning into summer:

Just a few days ago, the white crabapple was full of beautiful blooms, 

but most have now blown off with the wind and light rains.

But the lilac is still blooming, providing me with perfumed bouquets indoors.

One of my favorite spring perennials, Brunnera 'Jack Frost,' covered in delicate blue blooms.

You have to look more closely to spot the small blooms of Solomon's Seal.

Tulips are fading fast in the warm temperatures of the past week.  I've noticed that the 'Rosalies,' my namesake tulips in the back,  turn a little deeper in color as the days go by and age beautifully.
Wish I could say the same for me:)

Late-blooming tulips 'Queen of the Night' and Marguerite' compete with the emerging Allium.

Other late tulips in the shade garden complement the Bleeding Heart.  Have you noticed I like pink?



Spring has to be the shortest season here in Illinois--oh, how I wish it would last longer!

As with all the books I review here, I received no compensation of any kind for writing this review.  The Dog Who Saved Me was borrowed from our great local library system.

Winter Wildlife

Good news here in my little corner of the heart of the Midwest--the snow is quickly melting, and today it is supposed to be in the 60's!   I won't say that spring has arrived--that might be jinxing it--but I have high hopes that soon there might be a few signs of new life in the garden.  Before I put away the winter jacket and scarves, however, I wanted to share a few pictures of the friends who have kept me company this winter.

One of the things I've learned to enjoy during the winter is watching the birds.  The bird feeders have been placed within view of the living room window for better viewing and photo ops.  The suet feeder has been very popular the past few weeks, especially after a snowfall.  In past years, seeing a red-bellied woodpecker was an occasional treat.  This year I've been happy to see him (or her) on a regular basis.

A pair of Downy Woodpeckers have been regular visitors, too.  This one must be the female, since I don't see the red spot on her head.

The white-breasted nuthatch, which I also showed on my last post, is fun to watch, as it usually feeds upside down.

Other regular visitors at the feeders have been the finches (not sure what kind), sparrows, the occasional flock of starlings, and my personal favorite, the tufted titmouse.  Usually I also see dark-eyed juncos (pictured above) most of the winter, but it wasn't until last week's snowfall that they finally came as well.

I also haven't seen many cardinals at the feeders this year, though I do see them perching in the trees.  The snow finally brought a female to sample some seeds last weekend.

While the smaller birds are taking advantage of the feeders, these two scope the area for tastier treats.  Red-tailed hawks are a common sight around here, and one day I noticed one feeding on something in the middle of our yard.  As I drew closer, hoping to get a photo, it flew off, carrying a squirrel in its talons!  They are not easy to photograph, at least for me; by the time I moved closer to get a better photograph than the one above, they had already flown off in search of unsuspecting prey.

Not all the wildlife have feathers, however.  This opossum wandered onto our patio a few days ago, no doubt hungry and in search of food, too.  He even peeked inside, which drove the dogs crazy.  I'm not sure what would have happened if I had let them out and they had tangled with him, but I wasn't about to find out.

Speaking of the dogs, last week's 10 inches of snow made it difficult for the little ones.  Coconut followed Sophie or found tire tracks to make his way through the snow.

Frank, on the other hand, decided to blaze his own trails, but found it wasn't as easy as he first thought:) He's thrilled that the snow is finally melting away.

Sophie, however, is a true snow-lover--digging it out with her nose, making doggie snow angels, or even sampling a fresh bite of snow are some of her favorite winter activities.  But Sophie is pretty adaptable--I know that she is looking forward to digging in the dirt as much as I am.  Once the ground has dried out, she'll be the first one out the door--garden glove in mouth--ready to help me.  Oh, I hope it's soon, Sophie; I really do!

Garden Lessons Learned in 2013

Happy New Year, everyone!  I hope that you enjoyed the holidays and were able to spend time with friends and family.  I noticed a considerable drop in blogging the past month, myself included.  Besides the usual rush of Christmas activities, I was hit with a respiratory virus right before Christmas that kept me down for more than a week.  Thanks to some antibiotics, I'm finally on the mend. Now that I've finally got a little more energy and with the holiday rush over, I plan to catch up on reading blogs as well as posting a little more often.

I had planned to join Plant Postings' seasonal meme on lessons learned in the garden this past autumn.  Since I didn't make the December 20 deadline, I'm going to look back at the year overall and focus on one special aspect of the garden that has become more and more appealing to me.

I've learned that a garden isn't just for me--it supports a host of wildlife who enjoy it--and need it--just as much as I do. The creatures who inhabit or visit the garden have taught me as many valuable lessons as planting and weeding have.

 Lesson #1:  Even the seemingly ordinary can contain small miracles.  I was pruning the Knockout roses this spring when I noticed this strange growth on one of the branches.  A quick photo was taken and compared to internet images; sure enough, this is a mantis egg case, the first I'd ever seen.  Unfortunately, I didn't notice an abundance of praying mantises this year, compared to past years, but I'm sure they were around, had I continued to pay more careful attention.

Another small miracle that I did pay more careful attention to was this dove nesting in the old lilac. My husband first noticed her while mowing, and pointed out her nest to me as well as to the grandkids when they visited. 

She seemed unperturbed by our attention, and since her nest was just a foot above eye level,  it was easy to see. We watched the amazing miracle over the next few weeks as she cared for the babies who emerged until they became fledglings who eventually left the nest.

Lesson #2: Sometimes we're too busy focusing on the task at hand to notice what is right in front of our faces.  I know I'm not the only one who has photographed a flower only to discover when I downloaded my pictures a little winged creature I hadn't even noticed at the time. 



I enjoy watching the bees busily flying about in my garden, but they're not the easiest creatures to photograph, especially honeybees and the smaller bees. I always think it's serendipity when one pauses at just the right second as the camera shutter clicks.

Lesson #3: Just as with the garden, there is always something new to be learned when it comes to wildlife.  While I know we have had foxes around our farm before, this summer was the first time one ventured close enough for me to see it on a regular basis.  For a month or two, she/he (and oftentimes with its mate) would stroll across the front yard every evening before disappearing into the cornfield.

Despite the fox's often unsavory reputation in fables and fairy tales, I think they're beautiful creatures.  I spent many a summer evening watching her as she watched me, each keeping our distance.

Lesson #4: Even the smallest of creatures often knows more about Nature than I do.  The woolly worm is a weather prognosticator for many of us.  When I saw several of these this fall, I decided I'd better be prepared for a bad winter--the black head and tail, according to folklore, means a cold beginning and end to winter with a lot of snow in between.  So far, his forecast has been accurate.

Lesson #5: There is a reason I leave most of the garden standing over the winter instead of cutting back everything in the fall. 

Fall is always such a busy time that I never complete all my projects anyway, but I often consider doing some cutting back just to make things look a little tidier through the cold months.  The goldfinches, however, confirmed my decision--dried seedheads have their own usefulness and beauty.

Lesson #6: Patience.  Although this lesson is taught over and over again in the garden, there is nothing quite like trying to photograph a hummingbird to teach you patience.  I've tried for years to get a decent photo of a hummingbird in flight and finally managed to get a couple this year. The pictures weren't that great, but I was happy.

These little birds just fascinate me.  It was a great year for hummingbirds, and I spent many hours watching them dance in the air and holding one-sided conversations with them.  We had a warm fall, and they stayed longer than usual--into late September.  I hope they arrived safely at their winter homes, and I hope they remembered the chatty lady on the porch who will have the feeders ready for them again this summer.

Lesson #7: Optimism.  While it was a great year for hummingbirds, it wasn't such a great year for butterflies.

So few appeared this summer that I was beginning to worry what had happened to them all.  Finally, as summer turned into fall, Painted Ladies, Red Admirals, and Buckeyes came to visit the garden, reminding me to never give up hope.

Fall also brought visits from my favorite butterfly and my favorite photo from 2013.  What is it about the majestic Monarch that fascinates us so?  The scientific research about its life cycle and yearly migration is certainly interesting, but even without that, I am in awe of its beauty.  Nothing makes me stop to really live in the moment as does the appearance of a Monarch.

The wildlife that visited my garden this past season taught me many lessons, but most of all they taught me to appreciate all the little miracles of Nature and to really live in the moment.  I look forward to their return this spring, but in the meantime there are the winter birds to watch . . .

. . . and, of course, the "wildlife" that live here year-round.  

Wishing you all a year filled with new experiences in your garden and the joy and peace that Nature can bring.

Awards and Celebrations

I do believe that spring has arrived!  We have been experiencing a mini-heat wave this week, and I've finally gotten some time to work in the garden, although today was the first day that the March winds haven't been at full force.  These warm, sunny days are a reminder that I'd better get a move on and finish all those leftover winter projects soon before garden season gets into full swing.

Sophie's windswept look

I have managed to clean up two flowerbeds, and get a good start on a few of the others. Daffodils are budding and other bulbs are emerging, and I thought it would be nice if when they bloom, they would actually be visible to everyone instead of hiding behind coneflower stems and seedheads.

It's hard to appreciate these little crocuses when the view is obstructed.

Ahhh, much better. Now it just has to contend with tulip foliage:)

 I think the bulbs appreciated, too, not having to fight their way through a thick layer of oak and sycamore leaves as well--just where is that sycamore tree whose leaves always land in my garden anyway??  I also started my first indoor seeds today: they're resting comfortably on a heat mat, and once they sprout, others will be started and get a little babying before being put under the grow lights.  As tempting as it is to start seeds earlier, I've learned the hard way that mid-late March is soon enough.

First Hellebore blooms--more were hiding under the leaves.

Another project to complete today is this post.  Some time ago, Beth at Plant Postings awarded me the Versatile Blogger Award, and I feel badly that it has taken me this long to properly thank her and acknowledge this award. The rules of the award ask you to post the award and to include a link back to the blogger who gave it to you.  I've gotten to know Beth only in the past year, and I enjoy her beautiful photography and her polished prose; not only that, she's a fellow Midwesterner--thanks so much, Beth, for thinking of me.

The third rule of the award to list seven random things about yourself.  I feel as though I've shared much about myself in the past few years, but in case you're a new reader, here are a few personal details about myself:

1. I often refer to my husband as Mr. P, which stands for Mr. Procrastinator.  However, in all fairness, I have to call myself Mrs. Procrastinator.  That is why it has taken me over a month and a half to write this post and respond to this award:)

2. I'm an incurable clock-watcher and "to-do" list maker.  I thought I'd cured myself when I retired, but I still find myself being ruled by the clock far too often.  As an example, if I have an appointment or meeting in two hours, I'll think "there's not enough time to vacuum and do laundry; I might as well as sit and read blogs for awhile":) 

3. I'm addicted to shows like "American Idol," "The Voice," and "The X-Factor," which means I waste far too much time in front of the tube in the evening.  But I can't stand most reality television shows--no "Real Housewives of Wherever" watching here.  Now if they produced a show like "Real Gardeners" of Illinois, Tennessee, North Carolina, anywhere at all...now that would intrigue me.

4. I'm not an early riser--I enjoy watching a pretty sunrise, but not if it comes before 7 AM.

5.  I grew up on a farm; my dad was the third generation to raise corn and soybeans on the land first cultivated by my great-great and great-grandfathers.  My mother tended a small flower garden and a huge vegetable garden every year.  In other words, I grew up in an environment that was all about growing things.  I have no idea why it took nearly 50 years for the gardening gene to kick in for me.

6. I'm becoming overwhelmed with keeping up with social media sites. I enjoy blogging and wish I could spend more time here; I like to get on Facebook occasionally to keep up with family and friends; and I recently joined Pinterest after my daughter introduced me to it.  But I don't own a Smart Phone or a laptop, and I can't justify sitting here at my desktop computer for hours and hours just to keep up with them all.  As I see people everywhere (sometimes in my own home!) with their eyes glued to a tiny screen, I have this eerie feeling of being in a Ray Bradbury story where no one looks each other in the eye anymore to communicate.  Ah well, that's a rant for another day...

7. Finally, I'm a proud mother of four grown children and grandmother to six beautiful grandchildren.  That's not a new revelation to anyone who has read this blog for awhile, but of all the roles I've played, this is always the most important one in my life.

The fourth and final rule of this award to pass it on to several other people.  But, as much as I am usually a rule-follower, I just can't do this.  I know that some people prefer not to accept such awards, and I respect their wishes.  As for the rest, I simply can't choose a few of the many blogs I read over others--you all are worthy of an award in my book! 

Bloggers are so good about sharing, too.

On a related note, I realized while writing this that this past Saturday, March 10, was the fourth anniversary of my very first blog entry.  Who would have thought four years ago that I would still be writing here . . . and that some people would actually read it:)  I've learned so much about gardening from fellow garden bloggers, and I've enjoyed the personal stories and anecdotes of other bloggers.   I want to thank all of you for sharing your experiences and often encouraging me; your friendship has meant so much to me.  And I'm looking forward to meeting some of you in May in Asheville at the Garden Bloggers' Fling!

A Snowy Wildflower Wednesday

It's time for Wildflower Wednesday, the final post of showcasing wildflowers and natives in your garden for 2011.  I had planned a wrap-up of the year's best native blooms for today as I did last year, but Mother Nature had other plans.  I woke up yesterday to the first snowfall of the winter.

 Only about an inch of snow fell, but it was enough to create a magical winter wonderland scene for a few brief hours.

My garden has been a gloomy vista of brown and gray the past month and a half, so the monochromatic scheme of black and white was a welcome sight.

The garden has been taking its long winter's nap for some time now, so I knew there wouldn't be any blooming wildflowers  to photograph for today's post.  But winter affords a different perspective of the natives.  During fall clean-up I leave many of them standing, like these echinacea, a favorite of the bees and butterflies during their blooming season and a tasty treat for the finches later on. Besides thinking of the wildlife, though, I just like the look of their seedheads, especially when they wear their poufy winter hats.

Once it lost its blooms, the Joe Pye weed was nearly invisible against the backdrop of the large rough-eared dogwood behind it.  But its cupped upper branches cradled the falling snow, calling attention to it once again.

Most of the natives reside in the butterfly garden, but the heavy snow made it difficult to distinguish the asters, the Rudbeckias, the phlox, and others from each other.  I'm pretty sure, though, this is bee balm (Monarda) in the center with a stray hollyhock on the left.

There is no problem in identifying the native goldenrod, though, which is strong enough

to carry its own weight in snow.  

In the lily bed, the Amsonia tabernaemontana is a plant I've decided looks good no matter the season.   Whether it's covered with blue blooms in the spring or glowing with its golden leaves in the fall, this is one of the best additions I've made to my garden.

It's not just the natives that provide winter interest, however.

  Sedum is another plant that is not only low-maintenance, but also looks good all year long.

Under a blanket of snow, it turns into a snowball bush.

Looking around the garden yesterday, I was surprised to find that not everything was black and white.  The berries on the beautyberry bush are still noticeable.

They may not be the bright lavender of fall, but the faded purple still shows up in an otherwise barren landscape.

The yellow Knockout roses are also still sporting some green leaves.

Not everyone likes the snow, and I know I'll be tired of it soon if we have as much as last year. The Miscanthus 'Morning Light' found it too much to bear and just gave up.  Fortunately, once the snow melted, it stood upright once again.

The garden gnomes guarding the arbor bench, a gift from friend Beckie, also weren't too happy and looked rather frosted that I had forgotten to bring them inside this fall.  Sorry, guys.

The magic didn't last long--by late morning the snow was beginning to melt already, and today there are only a few patches remaining.  But it was beautiful while it lasted.

There was enough time in the early morning hours for Sophie and Coconut to get in a romp and a wrestling match in the snow.

And to just sit and and enjoy the soft falling of snowflakes.  

There is nothing like the first snowfall to make me appreciate the changing of the seasons, even winter! The snow may have distracted me from the topic of wildflowers, but if you are like me and are already thinking of next year's garden, be sure to visit our enthusiastic hostess of Wildflower Wednesday, Gail at Clay and Limestone.  You'll be sure to get some great ideas for wildflowers and natives to plant next spring.