Kiss the Earthtag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth/252008-06-26T17:55:13ZThe down and dirty world of gardeningMovable Type 3.35WE HAVE MOVEDtag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.71132008-06-26T17:51:47Z2008-06-26T17:55:13ZThis is my last posting on this web address. Starting right now, you can get to Kiss the Earth by clicking on this url: www.philly.com/philly/blogs/gardening/. Sorry for the inconvenience. Just paste this new address into your favorites. Wouldn't want to...Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
This is my last posting on this web address. Starting right now, you can get to Kiss the Earth by clicking on this url: www.philly.com/philly/blogs/gardening/.
Sorry for the inconvenience. Just paste this new address into your favorites. Wouldn't want to lose you! The new site is a little different. New look. New type. New everything except yours truly. You'll be able to read all of the earlier posts.
Thanks for reading and please come along ...
Happy summertag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.70652008-06-20T15:01:20Z2008-06-20T15:46:09Z As we head into the summer of 2008, here's a photo to remind us of the incredible beauty of this season in the garden. It may not look like this in a few weeks, but this morning was one...Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
As we head into the summer of 2008, here's a photo to remind us of the incredible beauty of this season in the garden. It may not look like this in a few weeks, but this morning was one of the most beautiful yet.
Now if we could just get some rain over the weekend ... and I mean, real rain, not the wimpy washouts we've had over the last few weeks. Thunder, lightning and then nothing. No fair! We'd like a good soaking. Sunday's forecast looks promising.
Happy weekend - and summer!]]>
Honey, I lost the prunerstag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.70552008-06-19T17:07:04Z2008-06-19T18:21:16Z Hydrangea season is upon us, which brings to mind one of the most common questions gardeners ask. When do I prune? I still laugh to recall the many phone calls I had from readers after doing a story about...Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
Hydrangea season is upon us, which brings to mind one of the most common questions gardeners ask. When do I prune? I still laugh to recall the many phone calls I had from readers after doing a story about hydrangea. Every one started like this: "My hydrangea didn't bloom this summer and I don't know why."
"Hmmm. Have you pruned it recently?" I'd ask. "Oh, yes," the caller would say. "We cut it way back a few weeks ago" or last fall, effectively killing the new growth that was already under way.
This is tricky business, for sure, so I go for the least complicated route: Whenever possible, do nothing. Most experts recommend leaving hydrangeas alone if you can, expecially the jumbo-jet native oak leaf, which shouldn't really be planted in a space it can easily outgrow. And anyway, I think hydrangeas look best when they're flopping and arcing all over the place.
But if you must prune, here are some very conservative suggestions. You can remove dead wood or do slight - SLIGHT - pruning at any time for shaping. If you have to prune for size, some folks take out a few branches, no more than about one-third, in winter or very early spring to rejuvenate the plant. But don't do more or you'll be in trouble.
Once the blooms are done, you can leave them on 'cause they're fun to look at through fall and winter OR you can deadhead (remove) them as you would the spent blooms of other perennials. No one's out in the woods deadheading hydrangeas, so clearly these dead flowers don't need to come off. I'd just as soon leave them till spring, then in one of those happy springtime rituals, make way for new.
Hydrangea macrophylla, the so-called "mophead" shown here, was planted in my garden six years ago from a single bloom in a pot for Mother's Day. You should see it now - it's a giant, and more beautiful than ever this year. Maybe that's due to the great spring we had. Or because it was expertly thinned last winter. (Not by me, of course.)
In any event, unless it's my imagination, it's emerged this season straighter, with stronger - and somehow darker - stems, than I remember. I've even cut them to bring in the house and they've survived for several days.
So while the best strategy is to leave your hydrangea alone, you can prune out the dead branches or a little of the old growth on occasion. I wouldn't make an annual habit out of it and I'd restrain with a floral-patterned straight jacket any significant other who exhibits a compulsion to prune this fall. Even better, hide your pruners.
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Little green thingstag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.70412008-06-18T13:13:08Z2008-06-18T13:23:01Z A few weeks ago I thought it was Poppy Awareness Week. Everywhere I went I saw poppies. Now it's little green things. First, I pulled the last of the pea vines out of my vegetable patch. They're done, fried,...Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
A few weeks ago I thought it was Poppy Awareness Week. Everywhere I went I saw poppies. Now it's little green things. First, I pulled the last of the pea vines out of my vegetable patch. They're done, fried, crisp as a potato chip. I squeezed open the last few green pods and popped those sweet little peas into my mouth raw. None of my meager pea crop made it to dinner. Or I should say made it into the main dish.
I put them on homemade pizza. I put them in salads. Mostly I put them in my mouth. So that's one little green thing.
The second: the baby figs. See earlier post.
Third: grapes. Nothing stirs my inner Italian than the sight of small, hard, green grapes that I know will grow into marble-like, rose-colored, Reliance table grapes. Problem is, I'm basically supplying the bird population of Northwest Philadelphia with delectable eating grapes. I've yet to harvest one before the birds do.
But that doesn't detract from the thrill of watching this process unfold. Birds gotta eat, after all.]]>
Chicago hardytag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.70382008-06-18T10:28:20Z2008-06-20T16:13:05Z Get a load of this! For the first time, baby figs are growing. This is a tribute to the tough nature of this 'Hardy Chicago' (Ficus carica) that's been abused in my garden for the last couple of years....Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
Get a load of this! For the first time, baby figs are growing. This is a tribute to the tough nature of this 'Hardy Chicago' (Ficus carica) that's been abused in my garden for the last couple of years. It was but a few inches tall when it arrived from an online nursery, and I planted it in a terrible spot. Yes, it was sunny, but it was soon dwarfed by the perennials all around it. Still, it lived.
I transplanted it last year to a spot against a wall that gets morning and afternoon sun. It continued to live but quality of life was minimal. This year, as you can see, it's taken off and is producing tiny figlets, at last.
This variety supposedly does well in extreme heat in early summer. How about extreme heat in spring, which we've just had? Perhaps the cool air this week will help. Meanwhile, I daydream about the figs to come ... mottled black and purple skin, strawberry-red pulp inside, sweet, juicy, like the ones we plucked right off a tree in Tuscany. Forget the romance. I could go for a bucket of fig gelato. None better.
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A time for rosestag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.69802008-06-09T14:23:10Z2008-06-09T18:44:32Z Friends are emailing photos of their roses, all in spectacular bloom right now. Mine, too, and this NATURALLY has fueled a desire to buy even more. My current favorites run the gamut from groundcover roses like 'Good and Plenty'...Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
Friends are emailing photos of their roses, all in spectacular bloom right now. Mine, too, and this NATURALLY has fueled a desire to buy even more. My current favorites run the gamut from groundcover roses like 'Good and Plenty' - the color of those scrumptious pink and white candies - and 'Happy Chappy' - a pink-gold-apricot - that are blooming up a nice, compact storm in the garden ... to several fragrant climbers that are doing their thing on the fence out front.
After reading a lot about roses, and talking to gardeners who grow them, I looked for climbers that are repeat bloomers, very disease resistant and fragrant. There is so much hype out there about plants - and roses are no exception. To read the blurbs, you'd think every single rose possesses all of the qualities I seek. So I jumped into the garden forums and flipped through some rose books and made my choices.
They are: 'Compassion,' 'Ginger Syllabub,' 'Golden Showers' and 'Portlandia' - all yellow, peach, apricot, pink - to climb on the front fence in whatever patches of sunshine I could find. The bright yellow 'Golden Showers' just went in over the weekend, with lots of water and mulch, but the others have a year or two under their belts and are doing great. It's fun to watch passersby suddenly stop, lean down to smell these incredible flowers and smile as they go on their way. I do it myself. (It's a bonus for taking out the trash.)
I planted four more climbers on the pergola, intertwined with Clematis 'Montana Rubens' and 'Henryi,' which truly deserves to be the best-selling white clematis - red 'Don Juan,' pink 'Zephirine Drouhin,' yellow/orange 'Joseph's Coat' and, I think, cream-colored 'Highfield.' These are too young to be blooming but they look healthy. Perhaps next year.
Two creamy pink 'New Dawns' and a new red and white 'Fourth of July' are climbing up trellises in the herb garden, along with a new hybrid tea called 'Lady Bird Johnson,' that is outstanding. And speaking of bonuses, 10 percent of the net sales of this rose, chosen personally by Mrs. Johnson, go to the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center in Austin. 'Lady Bird' produces five- or six-inch coral-orange blooms that last and last and also have a fruity fragrance.
I've stayed away from hybrid teas for their fussy reputation and my desire not to spray, but this rose is enough to make short work of my objections. We'll see how successful I am ... Meanwhile, I'd appreciate thoughts and suggestions from any veteran rosarians out there. What do you like? And how do you care for your roses?
It's no secret why gardeners love roses. Is there anything lovelier in June?
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Not-a-mellow yellowtag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.69502008-06-04T21:33:24Z2008-06-09T15:20:42Z Even in the garden, where I believe we are at our most authentic, we can be just as unconscious as we are elsewhere. This year in my garden, I suddenly realized, I've been gravitating toward yellow, a color I've...Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
Even in the garden, where I believe we are at our most authentic, we can be just as unconscious as we are elsewhere. This year in my garden, I suddenly realized, I've been gravitating toward yellow, a color I've always loved but until now has taken a back seat to purples and pinks. This is not by design exactly. It's a classic case of we like what we like and eventually it comes out.
Walking around to see how much the overnight rain had energized everything, I was struck this morning by the many patches of yellow: the bumpy - spectacular - spires of false lupine, the hardy yellow pansies, the new bits of yellow yarrow, the mound of evening primrose (known as sundrops) a neighbor shared last spring, the ever-taller healianthoides next to thin spikes of globe-flower, and the 'Angelina' sedums blooming up and down the walkway.
Most of these are new. And do they cheer me up! I think this signals a new day in my garden, one infused with horticultural sunshine to complement the real thing. It changes the palette dramatically, perhaps a sign of growing confidence. ]]>
Misty lovetag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.69282008-06-03T18:40:20Z2008-06-03T19:05:14Z This is love-in-a-mist, an old fashioned flower properly known as Nigella damascena and I grew it from seed last year. The self-sowing promise isn't always fulfilled in my garden, but maybe I'm getting better with time and experience. Or...Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
This is love-in-a-mist, an old fashioned flower properly known as Nigella damascena and I grew it from seed last year. The self-sowing promise isn't always fulfilled in my garden, but maybe I'm getting better with time and experience. Or maybe not! It's hard to know why things happen.
The love-in-a-mist came back this year in spades after a rather puny showing last year. Some nasturtium seeds I literally tossed into a bald spot in the garden have sprouted cheerfully as well. This is great news, as both provide delightful flowers and unusual foliage - the love-in-a-mist has tall feathery stems and the nasturtiums look like little lily pads. The former, as you can see, are cooling shades of blue and white, the latter warm yellows and oranges.
Nigella comes from niger, or the Latin for black, because the seeds are black. And get this - in Egypt, ladies used to eat the seeds to "produce stoutness, which is considered an attribute to beauty in these lands," according to a handy/dandy reference book on my desk called "100 Flowers and How They Got Their Names" by Diana Wells. The heck with handy/dandy. That's some attribute!
In any event, I love these flowers and their flighty foliage. Something about them suggests airy thoughts. They're in the back of my vegetable patch, a place increasingly inhabited by flowers. I like the idea of combining the two and lots of gardeners I've interviewed suggest this either to create a more colorful bed or to distract little nasties that otherwise would be feeding on your vegetables. It helps soften the look, too, when the lettuce is pulverized and the tomato plants yellow.
So far, the tomatoes are looking good. Maybe it's all that misty love. Maybe it's the goodwill it generates.
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Big kids, tootag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.69272008-06-02T20:03:54Z2008-06-06T18:04:44Z A week ago yesterday, it being a gloriously sunny Sunday, we ventured out to Morris Arboretum to take a walk and see how the rose garden was doing. Cars were lined up along Northwestern Avenue waiting to get in....Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
A week ago yesterday, it being a gloriously sunny Sunday, we ventured out to Morris Arboretum to take a walk and see how the rose garden was doing. Cars were lined up along Northwestern Avenue waiting to get in. Couldn't imagine what was going on. Were they giving away plants?
Actually, it was opening weekend for the 2008 garden railway, an event you might not suspect would generate so much excitement. But there you go. This year's theme is "Architectural Wonders of the World." It runs till Oct. 13.
No world wonders, but I remember being drawn to my brothers' toy train set back in the dark ages, especially the small-scale towns, bridges and mountains and the pale puffs of smoke that came out of the engine.
This is a grander thing. The trains - one has Thomas as the engine - were amusing and interesting in their own right as they passed replicas of some of the world's most fascinating buildings and sites - the Taj Mahal, Machu Picchu, the Eiffel Tower, the Great Wall of China, the Giza pyramid.
Fifty-six in all, including some close to home. Hey, how'd these guys get in there - Betsy Ross House, Elfreth's Alley, historic houses in Fairmount Park and - OK, so Morris gets a pass - the Fernery at the arboretum. The miniature replicas, whatever their pedigree, were absolutely great, and we ended up doing the whole circuit. There's also a small train for kids to ride all over the arboretum. Opening weekend only. (See lower photo)
There's a long history of garden railways in Europe, starting in the mid-19th century. The fad hopped across the pond in the crazy 1920s and '30s, dropped out of sight in the boring '50s and re-emerged about 30 years ago.
Morris' garden railway is lots of fun, especially if you have little ones to entertain. Truth be told, it was hard to tell who was enjoying it more - the little kids or the big ones. That would be us.]]>
Poppy paranoiatag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.68812008-05-27T20:10:37Z2008-05-27T20:48:38Z While still on vacation, we went to Chanticleer, a place I never tire of visiting. It was my husband's first trip there and he seemed to love each discovery. He especially enjoyed the gardens created around water or the...Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
While still on vacation, we went to Chanticleer, a place I never tire of visiting. It was my husband's first trip there and he seemed to love each discovery. He especially enjoyed the gardens created around water or the lack of water, beautiful plants that thrive in hot, dry weather. We took note. This year in our gardens we're trying to be water-wise, planting as many natives and succulents as we can. The idea is to save water, yes, but also to plant things that can take the heat and still look OK in August, when it turns to the Dust Bowl around here.
It's always a hard time in the garden, even though everyone suffers and most gardens look like hell. Everyone suffers except the folks with sprinklers and no objection to war-debt water bills. I'd like to think there's a better way to get through this season, and since much of gardening entails experimentation, we're game. This is our experiment this summer.
But wouldn't you know. Almost at every turn as we cruised around Chanticleer, we were greeted by ... poppies! (I feel like I'm in a gnome movie, where every place I visit I somehow run into gnomes.)
No gnomes at Chanticleer. Please! There are limits to its sense of humor. But plenty of poppies, their cheerful round heads bobbing demurely. Better than gnomes any day, if you ask me. ]]>
Poppy appreciationtag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.68802008-05-27T20:01:00Z2008-05-28T21:00:04Z So what is this, poppy appreciation week? I see the poppy art over at Morris about 10 days ago, and then I go to Colorado and stay in a nifty bed-and-breakfast in Denver built by an architect who's also...Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
So what is this, poppy appreciation week? I see the poppy art over at Morris about 10 days ago, and then I go to Colorado and stay in a nifty bed-and-breakfast in Denver built by an architect who's also been working, for the last 20 years, on his invention: a faucet you can talk to and boss around. I know you think I'm making this up but it's so wacky, there's no way. Anyway, the concierge at this B&B - called the Gregory Inn, check it out - tells us the story with real enthusiasm, I guess thinking that everyone believes, as her boss obviously does, that this invention will take the home furnishings and plumbing supply businesses by storm. Maybe it will. I've been wrong before.
We observe that the suite we're given is full of gizmos - TV screens that unroll from the ceiling, piped-in music we control and fancy fixtures in the bathroom. The curtain on one side of the huge tub, which has the fixings for a Longwood fountain display, opens to a fireplace. How romantic! And then there's the toilet, which flushes in about 1/10th of a second. Not so romantic, but - having been a couple for a very long time - we find it fascinating.
Anyway, once this faucet is on the market, you'll be able to tell it to make the water warmer or cooler, to take a letter or tell you you're beautiful. Who knows. If it came free, I might be interested!
After playing around with all our gizmos, we venture outside and discover a lovely garden that included - the point of this ramble - the most amazing Oriental poppies I've ever seen. Very tall, saucer-sized blossoms of rich orange-y red with deep black-purple centers and markings. Stunning.
Though our garden at home is about as "done" as I'm prepared to confess at this moment, we resolve to buy poppies when we return to Philadelphia.
Which, of course, we do. One bloomed this morning, a raspberry-pink one, though it didn't stand up tall on a regal stem as I'd hoped. It was nestled in the foliage, on the ground. The plant tag says 30 inches tall and I want every inch. Stay tuned.
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Poppy profusiontag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.68792008-05-27T18:42:48Z2008-05-28T20:58:17Z That's what they're calling it over at Morris Arboretum till the end of June. Artist Gary G. Miller has created an exhibit called "Papaver Rubrum Giganteum" in the front meadow consisting of - what else - 300 giant red...Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
That's what they're calling it over at Morris Arboretum till the end of June. Artist Gary G. Miller has created an exhibit called "Papaver Rubrum Giganteum" in the front meadow consisting of - what else - 300 giant red poppies that sway and bow in the wind. It's quite dramatic, especially if you're just driving along Northwestern Avenue minding your own business and used to seeing absolutely nothing in the field there.
The "poppies" are 10 feet tall, made of red aluminum. The "blooms" are 20 inches across, standing atop PVC pipe stems. I've seen them twice now, once on a cold, rainy evening and once yesterday, when it was 80-plus degrees and bright sunshine. They're fun to watch in any weather, really, looping and circling in the breeze or the rain like little kids whirling around.
Speaking of kids, the arboretum, in conjunction with nearby Woodmere Art Museum, has scheduled a family event June 7 (1-3 p.m.) where kids can make their own poppies. Guarantee they'll be cooler than the Kleenex bouquets we used to make back in the day with tissues and bobby pins. ]]>
Spend lotstag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.67962008-05-14T18:56:13Z2008-05-14T19:11:59Z Some days you're in love with the city. I had a day like that today, over at the Rittenhouse Square Flower Market, a charity event that continues tomorrow from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. I remember going to this...Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
Some days you're in love with the city. I had a day like that today, over at the Rittenhouse Square Flower Market, a charity event that continues tomorrow from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. I remember going to this as a child and as a young adult so it's been awhile, but they still sell the trademark lemon sticks - a lemon swizzle stick in a half-lemon that you suck on and suck on, while squeezing the lemon, until a little of that tart juice inches up into your mouth and gums up your fingers. Success!
They sell a lot of other stuff, too - annuals, herbs, hanging baskets, and even baby trees, along with food and jewelry. It's for a handful of great causes - the Anti-Violence Partnership, the Caring People Alliance, the Pennsylvania School for the Deaf, and Variety - The Children's Charity.
It's just fun. I was in the market association's flower booth answering questions about annuals. Thanks to everyone who indulged me. I knew most of the plants but Nemesia, which many folks apparently use in their small pots on balconies in the Square, I've never heard of. We had fun discussions about container planting and living walls and fertilizer or not and I thoughly enjoyed myself.
What a day, too. Perfect weather for a people parade, which is what this is. There were line-dancing seniors, young singers from a charter school, a jazz group and more characters than you could count. It was a great display of the city in all its (good) crazy diversity. This is why we live here.
If you get a chance to go to the Square, or can slip out on your lunch break, do. And spend lots of money.
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Knock-me-outtag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.67292008-05-08T13:05:44Z2008-05-08T13:04:17Z I'm no fan of fads. Never been the kind of person who had to have the latest thing. So I've been quietly watching the Knockout rose phenomenon these last few years, waiting to see if the claims were true...Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
I'm no fan of fads. Never been the kind of person who had to have the latest thing. So I've been quietly watching the Knockout rose phenomenon these last few years, waiting to see if the claims were true and if the single Knockout would evolve into a double.
From what I hear, these roses do live up to their billing. They bloom all summer into frost. They're disease-resistant. They thrive in full sun to part shade. And the single, whose look I didn't much care for, gave way to the double, which I like.
We recently pulled out some azaleas that were planted in a bed that gets full sun and never liked it, put them in a shadier spot and replaced them with six double Knockout pink roses. I have to say they look great. And I don't have to worry about this trouble-spot anymore. Knock me out!
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Just when you thoughttag:blogs.phillynews.com,2008:/inquirer/kisstheearth//25.67282008-05-06T20:13:20Z2008-05-06T20:17:09Z... you'd figured out how to find this blog easily, the great minds that run the joint have decided to put it somewhere else: http://www.philly.com/philly/blogs/gardening/ So cut and paste that URL because Kiss the Earth will soon be found there,...Ginny Smithhttp://www.philly.com
http://www.philly.com/philly/blogs/gardening/
So cut and paste that URL because Kiss the Earth will soon be found there, rather than here. For the time being, we'll be doing it in both places. If you go to the new site, you'll see I haven't quite figured out how to download photos into it.
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But if you must prune, here are some very conservative suggestions. You can remove dead wood or do slight - SLIGHT - pruning at any time for shaping. If you have to prune for size, some folks take out a few branches, no more than about one-third, in winter or very early spring to rejuvenate the plant. But don't do more or you'll be in trouble.
Once the blooms are done, you can leave them on 'cause they're fun to look at through fall and winter OR you can deadhead (remove) them as you would the spent blooms of other perennials. No one's out in the woods deadheading hydrangeas, so clearly these dead flowers don't need to come off. I'd just as soon leave them till spring, then in one of those happy springtime rituals, make way for new.
Hydrangea macrophylla, the so-called "mophead" shown here, was planted in my garden six years ago from a single bloom in a pot for Mother's Day. You should see it now - it's a giant, and more beautiful than ever this year. Maybe that's due to the great spring we had. Or because it was expertly thinned last winter. (Not by me, of course.)
In any event, unless it's my imagination, it's emerged this season straighter, with stronger - and somehow darker - stems, than I remember. I've even cut them to bring in the house and they've survived for several days.
So while the best strategy is to leave your hydrangea alone, you can prune out the dead branches or a little of the old growth on occasion. I wouldn't make an annual habit out of it and I'd restrain with a floral-patterned straight jacket any significant other who exhibits a compulsion to prune this fall. Even better, hide your pruners.
]]>
I planted four more climbers on the pergola, intertwined with Clematis 'Montana Rubens' and 'Henryi,' which truly deserves to be the best-selling white clematis - red 'Don Juan,' pink 'Zephirine Drouhin,' yellow/orange 'Joseph's Coat' and, I think, cream-colored 'Highfield.' These are too young to be blooming but they look healthy. Perhaps next year.
Two creamy pink 'New Dawns' and a new red and white 'Fourth of July' are climbing up trellises in the herb garden, along with a new hybrid tea called 'Lady Bird Johnson,' that is outstanding. And speaking of bonuses, 10 percent of the net sales of this rose, chosen personally by Mrs. Johnson, go to the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center in Austin. 'Lady Bird' produces five- or six-inch coral-orange blooms that last and last and also have a fruity fragrance.
I've stayed away from hybrid teas for their fussy reputation and my desire not to spray, but this rose is enough to make short work of my objections. We'll see how successful I am ... Meanwhile, I'd appreciate thoughts and suggestions from any veteran rosarians out there. What do you like? And how do you care for your roses?
It's no secret why gardeners love roses. Is there anything lovelier in June?
]]>
Walking around to see how much the overnight rain had energized everything, I was struck this morning by the many patches of yellow: the bumpy - spectacular - spires of false lupine, the hardy yellow pansies, the new bits of yellow yarrow, the mound of evening primrose (known as sundrops) a neighbor shared last spring, the ever-taller healianthoides next to thin spikes of globe-flower, and the 'Angelina' sedums blooming up and down the walkway.
Most of these are new. And do they cheer me up! I think this signals a new day in my garden, one infused with horticultural sunshine to complement the real thing. It changes the palette dramatically, perhaps a sign of growing confidence. ]]>
This is a grander thing. The trains - one has Thomas as the engine - were amusing and interesting in their own right as they passed replicas of some of the world's most fascinating buildings and sites - the Taj Mahal, Machu Picchu, the Eiffel Tower, the Great Wall of China, the Giza pyramid.
Fifty-six in all, including some close to home. Hey, how'd these guys get in there - Betsy Ross House, Elfreth's Alley, historic houses in Fairmount Park and - OK, so Morris gets a pass - the Fernery at the arboretum. The miniature replicas, whatever their pedigree, were absolutely great, and we ended up doing the whole circuit. There's also a small train for kids to ride all over the arboretum. Opening weekend only. (See lower photo)
There's a long history of garden railways in Europe, starting in the mid-19th century. The fad hopped across the pond in the crazy 1920s and '30s, dropped out of sight in the boring '50s and re-emerged about 30 years ago.
Morris' garden railway is lots of fun, especially if you have little ones to entertain. Truth be told, it was hard to tell who was enjoying it more - the little kids or the big ones. That would be us.]]>