Day 11
It’s that time of year when the Home and Garden Shows, like early spring flowers, start popping up at convention centers across the country.
It’s also that time of year – a mere 35 days until Spring (unless you are in Denver then it’s a mere 96 days!) when I get the “planting itch”. Not just spring fever – but the urge to get my hands dirty … dig into some soil … plant something. And I don’t know why because I’m not really very good at it. Actually I think all my plants do best when I just leave them alone!
My Dad plants tomatoes and his yearly yield is well over 400 … big, gorgeous, luscious, home-grown tomatoes (the ones John Denver sang about). Last year I got 7 (1 golfball sized red one and the rest were green marbles). I can’t even grow zucchini! How is that even possible? My Mom is a Master Gardener and her garden mirrors that of some botanical paradise. It is not a structured garden but a wild jumble of everything – a haven to bird and bee and butterfly. My daughter is a grower at a greenhouse – the designer. Sigh. All I can say is all that inherent ability must have skipped a generation and was completely lost on me. Let’s just say I don’t exactly have the greenest of thumbs. Mine is somewhere in between green and brown … more like … KHAKI.
And even though I’m not good at it – that’s not to say I don’t have a beautiful yard. Thank you Mother Nature … because 90% of what happens in my yard is despite my efforts not because of them!
In front I have Lavendars, Foxgloves, Irises, Tulips and 104 giant Allium (I counted last year) … all thriving independently of my efforts (or neglect).
We moved into this house a zillion years ago (okay, nearly 26; almost a zillion). At that time the house was 20 years old and we were the 12th owners of the place. No one paid much attention to the yard except for whomever planted the roughly 300 trees and shrubs that are here today. Thank you whomever you are! I think, again, Mom Nature had her hand in a lot of them as much of my yard is on a volunteer basis – meaning, I didn’t really plant or nurture what is here – it just kind of took hold and grew.
Which is really nice when you have a khaki thumb!
I have a big, rectangular yard with the back third of it being quasi-terraced up an incline to my back fence. Lilacs hang over that fence and though aging – are quite lovely.
The north side of my yard is the “preserve”. It used to be grass and a brick edged flower bed until I realized that the 3 enormous pines that border that area were responsible for killing off most of anything I planted – including the grass; too shady, too acidic, too something. For awhile I thought the shady area would be lovely as a woodland garden … Tulips, Violets, Hostas, Astilbe and Bleeding Hearts. They all died. One by one I held silent funerals for my deceased green children. Then I planted Red Twig Dogwoods – small, compact bushes that have red stems and looked nice against the gray siding and the well placed bark. Those, too, were gone after a year or so. So – that area is mostly just bark now – hard to kill that off! And yet the ivy remains. Creeping, ever slowy, inch by inch each year, snaking its way along the ground and up the fence and around the tree trunks. That area is the “wild” area of my yard containing the log pile that I refuse to go near due to the billion spiders that I imagine have taken up residence, my volunteer forest and the area that the dogs parade around in sniffing for the foxes.
I have cherry trees that sprang up from a huge cherry that died shortly after we moved in (sign of times to come?) that make my backyard more aromatic than a vial of perfume come springtime. There are Russian Olives that, despite losing a quantity of limbs every year, seem to hang on – somehow defying the odds. And there is the Honey Locust that took root on my side of the fence. My neighbor gets the shade, I get the 3″ long, thick, mutant monster thorns on my side! The snowball bush I planted eons ago is about the same size … barely hanging on after all these years. The volunteers do well, the things I plant … um, not so much!
Up on the hill we used to have more spruces and firs … lost long ago when the weight of spring and autumn snows were too much to bear. But, unfortunately, the fitzers continue to survive. If you have a fitzer you know what I mean by unfortunately – they are ugly and they grow like weeds and yet they are green and “filler” plants and so I keep them. Each year they shrink in size thanks to my long handled pruning shears. I wish I did, but I don’t have the heart to take them completely out.
My hill has the “wild flower” area as well … every summer a wild profusion of surprises spring up there under the Sumacs. The Sumacs started further north and migrated as the years went by and have taken center stage on the hill. People think they are “weed trees”; I think they are beautiful. Lacy and open and absolutely breathtaking with their yellows and oranges and reds come autumn. They somehow placed themselves in perfect alignment for viewing from my kitchen window!
There is a huge Silver Maple in the middle of my yard. It used to sport a treehouse but we took that down a few years back; it was fun while it lasted. It makes for delightful shade in the summer and piles and piles of leaves later on that all the animals like to burrow in and pounce onto.
The south side of the yard is a wild tangle of raspberry bushes and more volunteers. I planted 3 lilacs along the fence years ago – they are pink and pale, pale lavendar and are very late bloomers. I love lilacs and when all the others have long faded and dropped their blossoms mine are just coming around – so I get a second wave of them which is so wonderful. More volunteer trees flank the fence line … I don’t even know what they are or where they came from … along with the Oregon Holly and about 15 bushes on the hill that I have no clue what they are or when they took root! There are Aspens and an Ornamental Pear, a Chinese Plum and the Ohio Buckeye that is my special favorite with its spiny husks and smooth nuts. And thanks to the squirrels and the whirlybirds falling there are baby maples from my tree … the biggest one is now about 10 feet tall.
The areas closest to the house hold the majority of the perennials – Bachelor’s Buttons, Scarlet Monarda, huge pink Peonies, lilies and roses and if it’s a wet year – mounds and mounds of Violets. There is Cat Mint and every year more and more Hollyhocks that reach skyward with their 8 foot spires. I throw annuals in every year – somehow they last until fall, no thanks to me.
For the most part the plants in my yard succeed (or not) on their own. I water them, I prune them, the dogs trample them, I talk to them … and that’s about it. If a seed wants to make a home in my yard – weed or whatever – it’s got a good chance of a long and happy life as long as I don’t come near it!