Reflections on 2016

The new year is already a week old, but now that the Christmas decorations have finally been put away, I have some time to reflect on the past year.  2016 was certainly eventful, full of dizzying joys and the depths of despair.  But one of my resolutions for this year is to try to find something positive in every day, so I want to focus on the good parts of 2016.

January 2016 was truly an awful month for me, full of personal loss.  But in spite of all that, the many birds at the feeders provided for some quiet moments of enjoyment and a reminder that life goes on in spite of harsh conditions.

February brought its share of snow, and more time was spent enjoying the wonders of nature from the comfort of my living room window.  By the end of the month, however, we had a reprieve from winter, and daffodils began an early emergence from the soil.

March--can there be anything more uplifting to your spirits than the appearance of the first spring flowers?  March is a fickle month in the Midwest, sometimes bringing the worst of winter weather, but last year all I remember is that it was warm and beautiful.  By the end of the month, daffodils, hyacinths, and many other spring bulbs were in full bloom, and I was busy getting an early start on cleaning up the garden.

April, too, can sometimes break your heart with a teasing of spring that disappears under more cold or constant days of rain.  But not so last year--April 2016 was glorious!  Spring, as I've often said, is my favorite season of the year, and last year's spring was exceptional with warm weather and a daily explosion of blooms from all my tulips.  New green growth was sprouting everywhere.

A warm April meant that most of the tulips and other spring bloomers had faded by the first of May.  Irises and peonies took center stage instead, although the month was more of a transition time in the garden.  May is always the busiest month for me, as I plant containers and annuals in the flowerbeds and try to complete a host of other garden chores.  My resolution for this year is try to slow down and enjoy this beautiful month more, although I suspect that will be hard to change.

Ah, June--my favorite month of the year.  The garden was bursting with color by mid-month, but it didn't take me long to choose one photo of the many I took during this time: coneflowers and butterflies--two of my favorites!  If it was possible to freeze time and just live one day over and over again, I would pick a sunny day in June with swaths of coneflowers blooming and alive with bees and butterflies.

July brought even more color as coneflowers competed with lilies, a new one blooming each day it seemed.  I've become addicted to all kinds of lilies and can't really pick a favorite although 'Stargazer,' which grew to new heights this year, would definitely be a contender.

If coneflowers represent June and lilies represent July, then the perfect choice for August would have to be zinnias.  I've shown the 'Zowie' zinnias, one of my favorites, over and over again on Facebook and on summer posts here, but I did grow other zinnias as well.  All of them performed exceptionally this year, probably due to the weather.  It was a warm summer--not ungodly hot, but consistently hot throughout the season so that garden work was relegated to early mornings only.  Besides the warm weather, we had consistent rainfall as well, so that everything seemed to grow taller and fuller than ever before.

September brought asters, goldenrod, the 'Limelight' hydrangea, and Japanese anemones as well as a few other fall-bloomers. The heat continued through the last month of summer, and I spent many moments enjoying the shade of the front porch watching the goldfinches feast on the fading coneflowers and the antics of hummingbirds.  The warm weather meant the hummers stayed longer than usual; my last visitor stayed until the second week of October.

By October, much of the garden sensed the end of the year, though continued warm weather--and no frost!--kept many things blooming longer than usual.  The Amsonia hubrichtii, which usually has a golden hue by October, stayed nearly green until November.  The trees were slow to turn as well, and many didn't drop their leaves until December.

If one month symbolizes the extreme highs and lows of 2016, it has to be November.  On November 2, the Cubs won the World Series, ending a 108-year drought for long-suffering Cubs fans like myself.  Unless you're a baseball fan, you probably won't understand the joyous delirium we all felt. But you will understand the joy I felt just three days later when my 8th grandchild, a precious little girl, was born.  The other two granddaughters are older, so I am looking forward to tea parties and princess and fairy make-believe once again!

As for the low, well, the following week was the Presidential election.  Nothing else needs to be said, although I have vowed to try to be kinder and to be more active, speaking up for what I believe in the coming year.

As for the garden, the first frost finally arrived on November 12, the latest first frost ever recorded in our area.  So whatever else can be said about 2016, it was a great year in the garden--the longest blooming season in my memory!

By December, bulbs had been planted, and the garden was going into its long winter's sleep.  There was time at last to prepare for the holidays and to make the much-anticipated trip to Texas to meet my new granddaughter.  This may not be the best photograph, technically speaking, but it's my favorite of 2016 because the year ended on such a positive note.  This is what it's all about--family and sharing life with those you love.

We don't know what 2017 may bring for the garden, but I know whether it's an outstanding year or just a mediocre one, we gardeners won't give up hope.  And that is what I wish for all of you in the coming year--hope, peace, and love.  As Ellen says, "Be kind to one another."  💕

July Bloom Day

It's the middle of July already--or as we are beginning to call it, "Monsoon Season"--and time for another Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day.  Between all the rainy days and being busy with family activities, I haven't had time to do any work in the garden lately.  But I do take a little stroll each day, admiring all the blooms and ignoring the weeds and anything else that needs to be done.

It is Lilypalooza time, with nearly every daylily blooming right now, creating a riot of color throughout the garden.  I tried to use the collage tool on the simple photo editing program that came with my computer; it didn't produce quite the effect I was looking for, but it gives you an idea of some of the various blooms that I am enjoying at the moment.

I won't take time to show every single lily that is blooming, but I want to share a few of my favorites, including this spider lily whose name I've forgotten.  I don't remember it blooming last year and was afraid I'd lost it, so I'm especially glad to see it reappear this year, looking healthier than ever.

Another nameless favorite is this passalong from friend Beckie.  This dark beauty has very large blooms and a throat that positively glows in the sunlight.

The fair 'Juliet' and her love 'Romeo Lies Bleeding' have been blooming for several weeks--I love happy endings:)

All of the lilies I have purchased were carefully tagged and their names recorded in a garden journal . . . somewhere.  But as they grow larger and the tags disappear who knows where, it becomes more difficult to remember who is who.  I think this might be one of my first lilies, 'Orange Tangerine Ruffle.'

A new daylily I planted late last summer to add to my growing "literary" collection, 'Tennyson' is quickly becoming a favorite.

I purchased five new daylilies last summer and carefully tagged each one.  But over the winter, the tags disappeared on a couple of them.  I thought I could figure out which lily was which by the process of elimination, but I've discovered instead of five new lilies, I have six!  Although I remember five names, I have no recollection of where the mystery sixth one came from.  Consequently, I'm not sure if this is 'Susan Weber'....

. . . or is this 'Susan Weber'??  By the way, 'Susan' is named after a local MG who is a daylily enthusiast.  A plant breeder met her and named one of his new hybrids after her--how cool is that?!

Besides the daylilies, the Oriental lilies are beginning to bloom as well. My daughter's favorite, 'Stargazer,' opened up the day she and her family arrived for a visit.

Another whose name is lost in my disorganized files is Salmon something...

I haven't had time to deadhead anything lately, but this little visitor seemed to appreciate the faded lily bloom for a brief resting spot.  Maybe I'll just forget deadheading altogether:)

Of course, there is so much more blooming right now than lilies.  The red, pink, and nearly blue phlox are fading, but the white 'David' is just coming into his own.  All this rain, however, is producing some less than attractive blooms.

I thought the portulaca in the birdbath planter would not appreciate the rain either, but it is blooming its head off anyway.

The hydrangeas are loving all the moisture, though.  'Vanilla Strawberry' keeps getting bigger and bigger each year and is covered in blooms.  This is a special plant, one given to me by my friend Cheryl  from the UK when she and her husband visited here a few years ago. I'll always treasure this hydrangea as a reminder of our blogging friendship and the memories of that visit.

The blooms eventually gain a pinkish cast, but right now they are more 'Vanilla' than 'Strawberry.'

Moving along to the shade garden, I was surprised to see a few columbines re-blooming.

A few of the Caladium bulbs I planted have also appeared.  And yes, those are plastic forks surrounding the plant--so far they seem to have deterred the voracious rabbits that are proliferating like crazy this year.  Actually, I'm not sure if it's the forks or the fox that has been visiting our property recently, but I'm glad these have escaped bunny damage so far.

The hostas are blooming as well.  I know not everyone likes the blooms on hostas, but I do.

And I'm not the only one--not the best picture, but you might notice the bumblebee to the center right of this photo.  As I was walking around the shade garden, the bumbles were happily flying from one hosta bloom to another, enjoying whatever delights lay within.

A couple other blooms here and there--I showed this Rudbeckia hirta blooming in the roadside garden on my last post.  It's 'Prairie Sun,' which I have grown from seed the past few years.  I treat it  as an annual, though it is actually a short-lived perennial hardy from zones 3-8.  But this year it has self-seeded in several places, much to my delight.  I have other Black-eyed Susans, but I especially love these Green-eyed Susans!

More yellow blooms in the butterfly garden--Ratibida pannata, gray-headed coneflower  is a native that stands out among the yet-to-bloom asters and goldenrod.

Of course, I couldn't complete a Bloom Day post without showing the coneflowers once again.  It's an understatement to say they are swarming with butterflies on a sunny day, the air is so thick with them.

And other creatures enjoy them as well.  Yes, if I could have only one plant in my garden, it would have to be coneflowers.  

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I've been very busy with family affairs lately.  My mother, unfortunately, is back in the nursing home.  On a happier note, my daughter and son-in-law came for a visit last week, bringing my youngest grandson for his baptism and his first visit to Grandma's house.  He's definitely the best bloom in my garden!

For more GBBD posts, you can visit Carol at May Dreams Gardens.

Lessons Learned in the Garden: Fall 2014

The winter solstice is a short time away, the official beginning of Winter and the day of the year when we can rejoice that the days will soon become longer again.  In the Midwest, though, Winter doesn't pay much attention to the calendar.  Although we haven't had the snowfall that some parts of the country had in November, we've had enough cold days to know that Autumn is long gone.  In my part of the country we have another season--"Winterum."  Winterum is that time of year when skies are gloomy and gray, and any warm afternoons are reserved for putting up outdoor Christmas decorations, not working in the garden. Winterum often begins in early November and sometimes lasts until January.  Frankly, if it weren't for the holiday rush that makes this time go by so quickly, I would say that Winterum is my least favorite season of the year.

Despite the fact that I can no longer work in the garden, dull Winterum is a good time to reflect upon the last season and to participate in Beth at Plant Postings' seasonal meme "Garden Lessons Learned."  Before my memories of  garden successes and failures fade away, here are a few of the lessons I learned this past season:

1. Fall is my second favorite season of the year!  Now that may not seem like much of a lesson one has to learn, but back in my days of working full-time, fall meant the beginning of a new school year with new lesson plans to create and adjusting to a busy schedule after a summer off.  One or more of my kids was usually involved in a fall sport as well, meaning evenings included games or meets or carpooling after practices.  That didn't leave much time for watching sunsets or leaf-peeping, unless noticing the changing color of leaves while whizzing down the highway counts.

Now that my time is my own--usually--I've come to enjoy the cooler, crisp days of Autumn and enjoy the changes around me. I even appreciate the fading foliage and blooms of the garden.

In fact, about the the only thing I don't like about Fall is that it is the shortest season of the year.  This year we had a little extra time to enjoy the season as the first frost and then a hard freeze came late; usually we are lucky if we have four or six weeks of true Autumn weather.  (For more fall color, you can click here.)

Other lessons I learned recently aren't specific to fall, but rather lessons I gradually learned over the past year:

Nothing like a trowel and a little patch of dirt to keep a three-year-old entertained for a long time!

2.  It's okay to ask for a little help in the garden.  Over the years I've occasionally enlisted the help of my grandkids when I had some big jobs I couldn't seem to get done.  The oldest two grandchildren aren't particularly interested in gardening, but they're always willing to help Grandma, and though they would do it for free, Grandma is more than happy to pay them for their efforts.  In the past they have pulled weeds, spread mulch, and planted tulips for me.  But mostly, the "help" I get from the younger ones is more play than work, a way of getting them to enjoy a little bit of nature.

Youngest grandson above discovered the vegetable garden this summer, and every time he came over, the first thing he would ask to do was to go "pick 'matoes."  When I cleaned up the vegetable garden this fall, he was fascinated by the green beans still on the vines I had pulled--which surprised me, too!--and had to pick off every one before I could toss the plants on the compost pile.

I even enlisted his help in planting a few crocuses one day--with Sophie's supervision, as you'll notice.  I'm pretty sure several of them were planted upside down, so we'll see if they come up, but at least he had fun.  And I hope when he sees them bloom next spring, he'll remember planting them.

His older sister, Granddaughter #2,  is the one who has always been most interested in the garden.  But her help has been limited by her attention span or the heat or "too many bees" in the garden.  Until this year, that is. Not only is she growing up way too fast at 11-going-on-sixteen,  she also had a special incentive this year to help me--saving up for horseback riding lessons.  Grandma was more than willing to oblige with a flexible part-time job.

Besides helping to plant bulbs and some garden clean-up in the fall, she also helped to shovel and tote load after load of mulch to more remote areas of the garden during the summer.  I discovered that not only is she almost as tall as Grandma, but she is pretty darned strong for an 11-year-old.  I just hope my neighbor's horses continue to entice her:)

I've always thought that it was almost like cheating if you had much outside help in the garden. When people ask me about my small garden, I take a kind of smug satisfaction in saying that yes, I've done it all myself from digging up grass, weeds, and even rocks for every flowerbed I have, besides planting every single plant.  Oh, don't get me wrong--if I suddenly won the lottery, I'd hire a landscape designer and a crew with a backhoe to dig up half the yard in a heartbeat!  But I would want to choose and plant everything myself as well as do the day-to-day maintenance.

I remember reading Sydney Eddison's Gardening for a Lifetime  several years ago in which she gives advice for gardeners as they age.  One of her tips is to enlist more help in the garden.  I'm afraid I've reached that age where even my small garden is becoming harder and harder to maintain without aching knees or the latest malady--painful tendonitis in my hand from too much weed-pulling.  Next year I plan to enlist help from my granddaughter on a more regular basis, or if she is too busy, I might recruit another budding young gardener from the community.

3.  I've learned so many lessons about gardening this year as a volunteer.  As a Master Gardener intern four years ago, I spent some time volunteering at the County Nursing Home Garden.  I was already volunteering at the Idea Garden which I thoroughly enjoyed, so I intended to just fulfill my community service hours requirement at the Nursing Home and then move on.  But I found the Nursing Home group was such an enjoyable group to work with, and the co-chairs had such a wealth of knowledge on gardening that I found myself picking their brains every chance I could.  So I continued volunteering in this garden for the next three seasons.

Last summer Phyllis, the co-chair who had been one of the original creators of this garden before it even became an MG community project, developed health problems and decided to step down.  The other co-chair, Carol, decided she would retire as well.  Two of my friends asked another friend and me if we would serve as co-chairs with them this year.  I hesitantly agreed--even the four of us couldn't fill the shoes of Phyllis and Carol!

One of our faithful volunteers ready to deadhead any faded blossom.

Being a co-chair of this garden this year has been a tremendous learning experience.  Instead of one of the minions who asked what needed to be done and then attended to that task only, whether deadheading or weeding, I was suddenly supposed to know what everyone else should do!  I'll be honest--in past years, I wasn't a regular volunteer.  I showed up when it was convenient for me--or if it wasn't going to be 90 degrees that morning:)  But this year, I was there every Monday workday, other than the week of the Portland Fling, whether it was spitting rain or steaming hot.

Big jobs are easily taken care of when you have great help--we spread both compost and mulch over the whole garden in one workday morning!

Maintaining a garden that someone else has designed and planted is certainly different than working in your own garden.  I view the garden as others see it, not the way I would like it to be--though I certainly wish my own garden was as well-maintained and weed-free as this garden is!  Thanks to a great group of faithful volunteers, keeping the garden looking beautiful is fairly easy.

I began to feel a sense of ownership and pride in this garden.  The four of us felt a responsibility, not only to the residents and staff who enjoy the therapeutic benefits of the garden, but to Phyllis and Carol who had lovingly created and maintained this garden for so long.  I noticed things in the garden I hadn't seen before, especially the careful planning that had gone into it, making sure the garden looked appealing every season of the year:

Spring

Summer

And  Fall

I can't begin to list all the lessons I learned from being one of those in charge of this garden this year--this post is already long enough! But they include everything from record-keeping and budgeting to recruiting volunteers.  When we weren't sure how to prune some of the shrubs, we divvied up our questions, and each of the four of us researched a specific shrub.  My research helped me in my own garden, too, in deciding how to prune my smokebush.  We learned how to compromise and make the best use of each other's strengths.  Most of all, we learned to put individual preferences aside and to remember always the mission of the garden.

Once again, as I look back at the past season, I am surprised by all that I have learned.  Thanks to Beth for hosting this meme--you can view lessons learned by others at Plant Postings.  I'm sure next season will bring  more new experiences to learn from--after all, gardeners grow, too.