What Will 2018 Bring?

The New Year has begun with an arctic blast, bringing cold and snow to much of the United States. I've been housebound most of the past week, venturing out only to pick up a few groceries and return some library books.  It's not that the roads are impassable; it's just that it's too darned cold to go out if I don't have to.  I really don't mind too much--after the whirlwind of the holidays and two trips to Texas in the last month and a half, I'm happy to settle down to a slower pace.  It's a good time to work on those New Year's resolutions and then settle down with a good book in the evenings.  Every year I make the same resolutions like eating healthier and exercising more, but my main goal this year is to purge this house of some the clutter that has been accumulating over the past 13 years in every corner of the house.  Once gardening season begins, I know that will occupy more of my time, so if winter is short, I may not get much done!

The New Year represents a clean slate, a chance to start over and focus on what is really important to us.  For some people, it means a goodbye to a bad year, in hopes that this year will be better.  But 2017 wasn't a bad year for me, other than the political climate in this country, but I'm not going to get into politics here.  For me, 2017 was filled with lots of family celebrations and activities from graduations to baptisms to birthdays to many, many sports events.  Many hours and days were spent with grandchildren, filling my heart with joy.

2017 had its ups and downs in gardening, too, and I'm hoping for an even better gardening season in 2018.  We had a mild--and short--winter.  By late February crocuses were blooming, the earliest in my memory, and I was already working on cleaning up the garden beds in March.

The first crocus blooms appeared on Feb. 22, 2017

The early spring meant that by mid-April the tulips were in all their glory.  Those of you who have read this blog for awhile know that spring is my favorite season of the year, and I love, love tulips.  The problem with tulips, of course, is that they are more short-lived than other spring bulbs, so every year I try to take photos of the flower beds so that in October I can remember where I need to plant more.  The photos do help, but I still do a lot of guesswork in planting, which means that every spring brings some surprises.  Last year I noticed so many of the early tulips were yellow, which is strange since I'm not particularly fond of yellow.  But this year I got carried away ordering all different types of orange tulips.  I think I planted nearly 200 tulips this past fall, so I can't wait to see them all come up this spring!

I also planted another 100+ daffodils between the pine trees, in my goal of creating a "river of daffodils" on the edge of our yard.  I'm anxious to see these, too, and a little worried since my husband mowed this area last spring before I gave the okay.  I have my fingers crossed that the older daffodils survived despite the early shearing.

If I could have one wish for 2018, it would be that spring would last longer.  Though we had an early start to the season last year, by May the weather had turned warmer, almost summer-like, and the spring bulbs didn't last long.  There aren't many new blooms in my garden during this transition time, but I'm usually busy for several weeks planting hundreds of annuals in containers and in borders around the flower beds.  I remember telling some friends how excited I was about a shopping trip to a favorite nursery some distance away where I spent $400 on annuals that would have cost at least $600 locally.  They all thought I was crazy to have spent even that much--I think I am now officially the crazy plant lady of the group.

I remember thinking last year that it was time to cut back on the number of containers, especially when August and September rolled around and I was spending all my time watering all of them, trying to keep them alive.  But it's hard to cut back, especially when I find a new container that catches my eye, like this old wheelbarrow that my husband rescued from the neighbor's trash.  I know I'll be planting this one again!  One thing I learned last summer was that petunias don't like this wheelbarrow for some reason.  I wasted time and money planting and re-planting Wave and Supertunias, only to have them die shortly afterwards.  This photo was taken in the fall, when I'd replenished it with small mums and gourds, but I need to find something else besides petunias for the summer months.

Summer brought my favorite flowers, daylilies...

...and my beloved coneflowers.

The daylilies multiplied, and the coneflowers self-seeded, so that by mid-summer every flowerbed was a mass of blooms. Will 2018 finally be the year I get ambitious enough to finally divide and purge so that my garden isn't a jungle? Well, we will have to wait and see, but don't count on it.

By August I had the garden blahs--oh, I enjoyed whatever was blooming at the time, but I had no desire to get out and weed or do much of anything else.  It didn't help that we went for weeks without rain. I remember dragging out hoses every day and rotating sprinklers on all the garden beds, but that just isn't the same as nourishing rain.  I lost some plants, but by September I really didn't care, other than some native seedlings that I should have taken better care of. If it's not too much to ask, Mother Nature, I do hope you'll send us more frequent rainshowers in 2018.

If Spring 2017 was somewhat short, Autumn made up for it.  Warm weather continued through much of October, delaying the changing to fall color, but the leaves finally turned, providing a few weeks of beautiful color, a bit surprising considering the dry conditions.

The front yard, late October 2017

We had a very late frost as well, the first killing frost not arriving until November 8.  

The highlight of Autumn, though, had to be the return of the butterflies.  Through much of the summer I worried about the lack of butterflies.  A few Swallowtails appeared now and then, but it wasn't until late August that Buckeyes and throngs of Painted Ladies appeared.  In late September a few Monarchs made daily flights through the garden.

But one day in late October I experienced something I've never seen before.  My husband urgently called me to come out to the garden--a rare occurrence in itself--and there I saw two dozen or more Monarchs flitting about in the flowerbed, lighting in particular on the zinnias.  I stood there for the longest time, mesmerized and in awe.  My youngest grandson, who loves insects, happened to be there at the time and was impressed as well.  It was an experience I won't soon forget.  I hope this means more Monarchs in 2018!

A few weeks of mild weather after the first frost gave me time to do some clean-up of the garden and eventually do a little outdoor Christmas decorating without freezing my fingers.  The old wheelbarrow was cleaned out and decorated for the season with some dollar store finds and cuttings from around the yard.

The large urn in front of the porch was also decked out--

and then finished off later with a dusting of snow.

The first measurable snow fell on Christmas Eve, just in time to give us a white Christmas and the coneflowers their fluffy white hats.  And now the garden and I are ready for a long winter's nap.


We have no way of knowing what might come in 2018, but I wish you all . . .

Happy Gardening in the New Year!

Springtime in Chicago: The Flower and Garden Show

The calendar may say it is now spring, but you wouldn't know it otherwise.  It was 25 degrees (-4 C.) when I awoke yesterday morning, and blustery winds penetrated my heavy winter coat to chill my bones as I walked the quarter-mile trek from my car to my Tai Chi class later in the morning.  Despite the feeling that winter is going to linger on for awhile, for one brief afternoon last week it truly felt like spring as friend Beckie and I visited the Chicago Flower and Garden Show.

Although we skipped the show last year and visited the Indianapolis show instead, we have attended the Chicago show for several years and feel somewhat like old hands now at navigating Chicago transportation. This year we were smarter and asked the taxi to drop us off at the Flower Show entrance, rather than walk the 5/8 mile path through all the shops and exhibits of Navy Pier to get to the east end of the building.  Even without the signs, we knew we had arrived when we spotted this huge bust bedecked with greenery and blooms outside the show's entrance.

Once we entered the showroom, our spring-starved eyes were immediately drawn to the displays of spring blooms.  Tulips of every color imaginable were everywhere.  Oh, how I do love tulips!

And hyacinths . . . those with a keen sense of smell didn't even need to bend down to catch a whiff of their intoxicating fragrance.

How I wish my spring garden looked like this!  I took quite a few photos of this garden--probably my favorite--but mostly I just stood and drank it all in.  The display was beautiful enough as it was, but a colored light wheel hidden in the middle highlighted the pink and white tulips, changing their hue--which accounts for the strange coloration in this photo.

The theme for this year's show was "Art in the Garden," as evidenced by this unique artist's palette.  I must admit the theme wasn't as obvious as some in past years, but it really didn't matter, as Beckie and I enjoyed the plant displays more than anything.

The "InspirAsian" garden was a calm oasis in the middle of the show. I was impressed when I learned that this garden was designed and built by students of the Chicago High School for Agricultural Sciences who took ideas from their connection with sister schools in Japan and South Korea. These high school horticulture students always create an interesting display at the show, but this year's was especially impressive.

Ponds and waterfalls were featured in another display garden, "A Water Sonata."  The first pond as you entered was the smallest, but a charming one and a practical size for almost any home landscape.

The water features grew larger as you progressed through the garden, ending with this unique waterfall as you exited.  I was entranced by this "grand" idea, but the ex-pianist in me couldn't help thinking what a shame to ruin this once-beautiful instrument.  Still, it certainly was an attention-getter.

While we may have missed some of the art as we passed through the different gardens, Beckie and I both enjoyed the whimsical sculptures in the garden designed by Rich's Foxwillow Pines Nursery.  This froggie band was made from rusted pieces of farm and industrial machinery.  They made you want to boogie along with them.

Besides the display gardens, there are always other attractions as well.  A few years ago, creative hats were a crowd-pleasing display.  This year "Footwear: Women's Stories" showcased decorative footwear designed by Chicago textile artists to represent "a defining moment in their lives."  Accompanying each unique pair of shoes or boots was a short explanation from the artist explaining what the footwear symbolized to her.  These peacock slippers would have definitely appealed to my young granddaughter!

I don't remember the story behind these leafy boots, but I think any gardener can relate to them:)

Colorful dancing shoes almost beg you to do the rhumba!  I wish I had taken a photo, though, of my favorite display--a pair of sturdy work boots with one tongue stretched out nearly two feet in length on which the shoemaker had engraved her story of creating handmade shoes for customers around the world.

Other displays scattered throughout the exhibition hall were of elaborate cake designs. I wanted to reach out and take a lick of this little gnome's beard to make sure it really was made of frosting, but I don't think the exhibitors would have appreciated that.  So I just took their word that all of this was edible.

Visiting a show like this, I always come away with a few ideas to try in my own garden, and this year's Chicago Flower Show was no exception.  But before this gets too long-winded, I think I'll save some of those ideas for another day, so stay tuned for part II.

By the time we had to leave the show, the sun had disappeared, and the clouds were unleashing a swiftly falling snow.  The snow followed us all the way home, but for a few short hours on this day, we had been transported into a floriferous spring!

Please, Can We Just Slow Down a Little??

Dear Spring,

I am happy that you were not only on schedule this week but actually arrived early, unlike some years when snow or ice created delays for you.  I've appreciated all these warm, sunny days that you've given us the past few weeks.  But please, please, could we just slow down a little??

Less than a week I ago I was proudly showing off the crocuses and the first daffodils on my Bloom Day post, and now suddenly they've been joined by a whole row of the later ruffled doubles, 'Replete.'

Overnight, it seems, the garden has burst into bloom.  I'd like these hyacinths to stay around for awhile so I can enjoy their delightful fragrance as well as their blooms.

I'm loving the blue, blue skies and the budding of the redbud trees. But please, can we just keep these purple blooms around for awhile??  They just appeared, yet already I'm seeing the first tiny heart-shaped leaves emerging.  Yes, those leaves are pretty, but it's the purple shimmer of the redbud in early spring that I love most of all. Usually, redbuds are the first trees to bloom here, but this year they're competing for attention with all kinds of flowering trees, especially gorgeous magnolias in full bloom

I naively thought I would have the whole month of March and maybe part of April to get spring clean-up chores done in the garden.  Yet I barely raked away the thick layer of leaves on the shade garden in time for Mr. 'Jack Frost' Brunnera to put out some blooms.

Unfortunately, I wasn't so lucky with the clematis 'Nelly Moser.'  I usually prune her in early spring, but as you can see, she's already put out so much growth and even a few buds that pruning her now will have to be done very, very carefully.   Hmmm, either Sophie is playing the Easter bunny with her tennis ball . . . or more likely, Mr. P. thought this would be a safe place to hide it while picking up the yard before mowing.  And yes, Hubby has already had to mow the yard!

Different varieties of Muscari were planted last fall in order to achieve the vision of a pleasing range of hues.  A few purple ones are already up, but apparently the others didn't get the early wake-up call.

Everything is moving at breakneck speed, and I'm having trouble keeping up with it all. I go out to the garden to work and get distracted by new blooms everywhere I look.   Ipheion 'Wisley Blue'--starflowers--are low-growing, so it's easy to overlook them if you don't take time to look closely.

I feel like a kid in a toy store, flitting from one flower to another, trying to see everything at once and enjoy it all before it fades away.  The very first tulips are blooming, to my surprise.  Are these 'Fur Elise,' planted in the fall of 2010?  Or did I plant a new variety of tulip here last fall?

If they are 'Fur Elise,' they look different than I remember them--actually, much prettier than last year's bloomers.   I should go check my notes, but no time now . . .

. . . there are more tulips waiting in the wings. I'm afraid the record-setting temperatures we've been experiencing will mean the tulips will fade much more quickly than they should. 

Even the flowering quince is blooming--and it never, ever blooms until May, 

sometimes not till early June.  It's all very strange indeed.

The first bumblebee sighting today on the quince was a delight, to be sure.  I know that he is enjoying this warmth and will stay around for the rest of the season, but that is not true of the spring bloomers.  Dear Spring, I'm trying very hard to live "in the moment" and enjoy each and every precious gift you give us.  But it's hard to do that when it's all rushing past in such a hurry.  Please, could you just slow down a little??