Gardeners needn't congregate to attend to a garden. I certainly don't congregate. I love it when my neighbor gardener comes over to weed. That's when I get to chat....at a respectable distance, of course. Social distance, and, for the fastidious, a facial mask, should adequately address most gardening concerns.
Really? From what I've heard and experienced myself, cherry tomatoes do quite well here.
I've only ever tried to grow normal size tomatoes. At the time (1960s), cherry tomatoes were virtually unknown.
Really? My father was growing cherry tomatoes in our back garden in the late 1950s. They were quite common here, despite never being sold in the groceries. He even grew the little yellow pear tomatoes, which I never hear anybody talk about, but see in many gardens.
And, cherry tomatoes seem to be the most successful germinators amongst the tomato varieties. In my garden, if I have 'volunteer' tomatoes, the chances are nearly 100% that it will be a cherry tomato plant....even when I don't plant cherry tomatoes.
Today, the myosotis is in full display. Forget-me-nots. I'm trying to encourage them to return en masse in my garden. They can make a garden look a mite tatty after they've bloomed out, but I figure, hey...that's why I have rudebeckia.
It is finally going to be a warm and sunny spring day, but I'm waiting for it to warm up. It looks lovely, but my feet go cold in a few minutes outdoors.
And...The fence monster is rumbling in to wakefulness.
It's actually been fairly somnolent until I recently noticed that much of the honeysuckle had actually leafed out with bronze colored leaves which blended well with the background of dry, matted vines. Only if one focused on the monster itself, could the new leaf be seen. Then, last week, a light green tendril, from near the soil up to the top of the fence, arose. The clematis is also awakening. The monster faces an insidious invader, the Boston ivy that advances from the darkness along the spine of the fence, the lilac having failed in preventing it's ceaseless advance, as the ivy thrives in the shade. I shall have to intrude.
I'm on a mission to eradicate all ivy from our garden...
My wife, Ivy, started that on our little lot more that twenty years ago. It's possible to eradicate it, but one needs to be vigilant forever after. I'm still finding hidden starts, as the birds carry it in.
I had had this sidelined tree tub (the plastic tub that small caliper trees are sold in) of approximately three feet in diameter. It had been the tub I scraped all the chook chalet leavings in to during cleanings. It had set for two plus years half filled with the last of the Republicans (chickenshit) and composted down some. I had gone to the nursery and obtained three rhubarb crowns, dragged the half empty tub out to the new back garden crossroads, topped it off with nice lush composted farmyard manure and worm castings and planted the crowns in the tub.
And, already, it is stalking! Leaves are unfurling. I haz new rhubarbs!
The old banners, now two years in to display, were faded on the sunny side and increasingly tattered. The tattered aspect was emphasized by the recent windstorm overnight, which left tattering more than just corners or edges. They were falling apart.
Swift to eBay!
Sure enough, a UK packet of five banners for just $22, including shipping. Such a deal. I got it in days.
Now, I've ensigns for England, Scotland, and Wales flying anew. The Orkney flag is holding up rather better, as is the Isle of Man banner. I guess I can hold the Ulster and the ol' Blood and Guts for later. I really want a new Isle of Man flag, though.
I'm really pleased with the Wales banner. The glaring red pendragon against the bifurcated white and green background is handsome.
Nb: is there a difference between blooming and blossoming?
Errm ... well ... not really but kind of yes.
Obviously they mean the same thing basically, the thing is coming into flower, it has flowers opening.
But you would say a plant is or specific plants are blossoming, whereas you could also say that a garden or woodland or city is blooming, meaning it contains plants which are blossoming. But this is only a general idea - I wouldn't quote this to your students without more backup!
Then, there is the complication of 'in bloom'. When the name plant here has flowers which open, it is 'in bloom'. It is also 'blooming', 'blossoming', and 'in blossom'.
Then, when the flower has lived its time on stage, it wilts and loses its petals...this is known as, 'the bloom has blown'. Blossoms can also be blown. To be blown in the flower world is to be done; fini. It is no more....
My gardener/massage therapist who lives across the street had to pointedly turn me around and have me look at my house from her vantage point. That's where I got the image of being enveloped in a pastel violet sea.
It's a middling overcast, but still dry, day. Ho-hum. And I'm feeling under the weather.
Any way, I noticed that the weigela tucked away under the dogwood on the plains of the Western Front is blooming. My eastern neighbor has a far more robust exemplar up against our shared back fence near my gate to China Beach. That places it just opposite the eastern end of the balcony, where it cascades over the top of the fence with extravagant pink bouquets. I like it, and wish that mine were as robust, but full sun is what is required to obtain it...never likely under the dogwood.
The second variety of iris is abloom. It is as I expected. Gold ring.
And, in this pic of the back garden from the back stoop, you can see the new yellow iris center left just under the water spiggot.
My clematis bloomed. The problem is that now, with the honeysuckle seemingingly having bought the farm, the clematis is tangled up in the vine carcass hanging on the fence.
My problem of what to do with the dead monster hanging on the fence. I suppose I shall have to dedicate time and energy to dismembering the carcass and removing it. It shall have to wait until after bloom season before I start tramping around in the plantings close to the fence.
I am about to deadhead my first blown rose bloom.
I had to sic my gardener on the stinky Bob and geum in the front. And, when she saw my emerging thistle problem in the balcony rosebed, she just waded in and weeded them out.
Updated view of the back garden from the back door. This year's iris bloom is past peak. I've had a few roses bloom and will deadhead my first bloom here this week, but the big bloom is a week or so away.