Tag Archives: weeds

The garden in August.

my garden, summer, , , , , ,

Today workers came, to repair and paint various places on the exterior of the house, including replacing part of a pillar near the front door, that is rotting because of all the dirt and plants around it — uh-oh. The plants needed to be removed, and I wanted to do that myself, and save them to put elsewhere. While digging I accidentally cut into an irrigation hose, but the handyman took it in stride and said he would fix it, so I didn’t need to have Alejandro over here just for that.

amaranth

Once I was out there digging and pruning, I didn’t want to stop. But I had to leave after a while and drive halfway across the county to the dentist. That was a pleasure, too, because I listened to the beginning chapters of Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy, which our women’s book group at church chose just yesterday as our selection. I am loving it so far; the writing is a feast for the ears; I ordered a print edition so I can read it with my eyes as well. The only other thing I’ve read by Hardy is The Mayor of Casterbridge, which I also liked a lot, but it has been a while.

And at the dentist, I had to wait, so I read on Kindle on my phone, poking around into various books I have there. There was no drilling today or anything uncomfortable. Mostly I got to talk with my dear dentist, whose family and mine have been slightly connected and acquainted since she was a child. She’s also an excellent dentist, and a mom who likes to talk with me about our families. I’m so thankful for her and other members of her family who are also dentists ! and that they have stuck around, so we can still be in the same community after all these years, and I can have dentists I trust.

When I returned from that outing the workers had gone for the day. But I got to work again, and filled my neighbor’s green bin with all that had been left over after we filled mine a few days ago. Even though that area by the front door is in upheaval, and there is a lot of work to be done all over the property, I felt, rightly, that the garden is thriving overall. The figs are coming on, and the zinnias, and what do you know, I discovered an amaranth plant!! I did throw out all the old amaranth seeds into the planter boxes in the spring, along with others in the bottoms of packets, so evidently one of those managed to sprout and survive.

Fig tree behind the giant milkweed leaves.

The tarragon is extravagant:

Willowherb

The two weeds that are thriving right now are spurge and willowherb. Spurge is ugly and covers the ground like a mat, but willowherb is tolerable, as it looks like it could be something one meant to grow, and it hides among the ones you did plant — until it goes to seed, when it still doesn’t look bad. And it’s always easy to pull out.

Two plants I had to trim severely.

In the remainder of the week I need to repot a few plants, and to plant kale and chard in the front where zucchini did not make it. The basil is abundant and wants to be made into pesto. So far I have about six butternut squashes on the plants that are overflowing on to the driveway; it seems that I should have more fruits, because there are eight plants there, in full sun, but oh well, I will be happy to have a few. In the back, the kabocha and delicata squashes haven’t done well. I have a solitary delicata, which is very small…

After our little heat wave a couple of weeks ago, it has cooled down to about 80 on the warmest days, and the smoke has not returned. I’m loving August, and so glad that I am not one of the people who has to go back to school, when there is still a lot of summer left. September is my favorite month, but August may be my second-favorite. But I know many of the U.S. bloggers I read do not appreciate this month. Whether you are trying to stay cool, or cozying up in the Southern Hemisphere, I hope you find a way to enjoy the season.

A Widow’s Weeds

my garden, poetry, wildflowers, , , ,

I doubt anyone would label me a “poor old widow,” but I can relate to many things in this little poem. It’s given me a brand new idea, too, of sewing in my garden. Today would be fine day for that…

A WIDOW’S WEEDS

A poor old Widow in her weeds
Sowed her garden with wild-flower seeds;
Not too shallow, and not too deep,
And down came April — drip — drip — drip.
Up shone May, like gold, and soon
Green as an arbour grew leafy June.
And now all summer she sits and sews
Where willow herb, comfrey, bugloss blows,
Teasle and tansy, meadowsweet,
Campion, toadflax, and rough hawksbit;
Brown bee orchis, and Peals of Bells;
Clover, burnet, and thyme she smells;
Like Oberon’s meadows her garden is
Drowsy from dawn till dusk with bees.
Weeps she never, but sometimes sighs,
And peeps at her garden with bright brown eyes;
And all she has is all she needs —-
A poor old Widow in her weeds.

-Walter de la Mare

Bee on Narrow-Leaf Milkweed

 

 

All the weeds are pretty.

homemaking, housework, my garden, work, , , , , , ,
Hairy Bittercress

When the overcast lifted and the sun came out, and my house and I were warmed up, thanks to the wood fire that I was oh so grateful to have had the energy to get going — then I looked out the kitchen window and decided that I would wash the glass patio table that had gotten all dirty from rain and wind and leaves.

It was one of those things where you do one little task, which leads to another, and another. I was oh so grateful for the way that happens, which also can’t be counted on. I pulled out the bare and mushy begonia stems nearby, that had been pleading with me through the window for weeks, and so removed their shame. From there I carried my small green trug all around the garden to fill with trimmings of mint, rose geranium, and part of a lavender bush that had escaped the shears back in the summer.

Chocolate mint

I even repotted a plant! Soon after Christmas Day I had gone to the nursery to see if they still had a little live Christmas tree of any sort, but they were sold out. I had thought a conifer in a pot would be nice by my front door, to get me through the winter. It’s become a pet project to have something in that spot, a plant that is healthy and cheery, and preferably blooming, to greet guests and me when we come and go.

They were sold out of Christmas trees at the nursery, but they did have blooming Kangaroo Paws. I brought one home and switched out the aster right away, but the new plant was cramped — so I moved it into a larger pot where it could spread its roots out more comfortably. This is the “before” picture, though:

All the weeds are pretty right now, because they are all tiny and fresh-fresh green. I can identify most of the peskiest, which in some cases come from seeds or plants that in past years I encouraged to grow in my garden. From that group the ones that I am now dis-couraging to greater or lesser degree are Love-in-a-Mist (nigella), violas, and California poppies.

Common groundsel

I pulled dozens of just-up nigella and bittercress out from around other plants that I don’t want to be choked out, and promised myself I would work on the asparagus beds in couple of days, after they have dried out more:

Violas infesting the asparagus beds.

The plan is to remove all the violas, and then spread mulch again. I don’t know what has been digging in there — maybe crows?

Baby California poppy with Hairy Bittercress

My favorite leather work gloves are pigskin, because they are soft and flexible enough not to hinder me throwing wood into the stove, or doing other tasks that require some dexterity. But they wear out really fast, and are expensive. So I ordered two other types to try out, and they arrived today:

The ones on the left are supple enough and mold to my hands, and I think I’ll use them in the house when dealing with the wood and the stove. The ones on the right are stiffer, but they will be fine for carrying cordwood into the garage or house.

For gardening, I use non-leather gloves, because for that I need even more dexterity, but I end up taking them off half the time. I’m thinking of switching to thin vinyl gloves, but I wonder if my hands just have a mind of their own, and want to be in the dirt all the way.

There’s no rain or frost on the forecast here in my corner of the world, but sunshine is predicted. That will be good for my mood, and probably for sleep, too. I think I’ll make it through January again!

Petty spurge

June flowers make me feel at home.

home, my garden, , , , , , , ,

My front garden had turned into a jungle by the time I returned after nearly three weeks away; I expected that, but didn’t anticipate all of the species that would get tangled together. Some of them, like the nigella and poppies, were way past their prime and I could simply pull them out.

Black Medick

There was a certain weed that had flourished under the asparagus fronds and was climbing by means of its yard-long stems up behind and over the germander, which is just starting to bloom. It also was growing in the cracks in the walkway. I knew I had seen it before somewhere, but never in this quantity, so I looked it up: Black Medick. I pulled at least most of it out, and added that to the green bin.

I bought cosmos and some shorter flowers to replace all the things that I removed; and a few basil, summer squash and zinnia plants to put in the planter boxes. Because spring was cool here, the Iceland poppies are still blooming, and welcomed me home.

The Showy Milkweed is blooming and the bees are on it.

In Greece, in addition to the live, rustic and thorny version of acanthus I’d seen on Paros, I saw plenty of carved acanthus leaf designs in the ancient Byzantine architecture in Thessaloniki. I came home to see my own plants looking more majestic than ever.

The lavender has come out, and the Mock Orange, and the little campanula that hides under the Mock Orange. The Golden Marguerite that I’d pulled out of the front garden last year — it returned, and was  aggressively invading my new landscape, so I cut it back, and stuck the clippings in a vase. After all that, and a few days recovery from jet lag, I’m beginning to feel myself again ❤