Monday, 6 May 2019
Oak leaf hydrangea. And splendid lighting.
Smoke tree. The street had a half-dozen of these plants, about the same size (well-established), perhaps planted at the same time.
Peony abloom. Just love peonies. I see them and think of my grandmother’s garden, and therefore my grandparents.
Sunday, 5 May 2019
A particularly maroon Japanese maple, with some kind of (procumbent?) juniper, very (yellow) green.
A Virginia creeper climbing a brick wall. Different contrast in shapes, but still generally red/green.
Lots of action at the Gliderport. On the ground. Also, stay on runway to avoid mud.
No Chiitan sighting (watching John Oliver), not surprisingly.
Friday, 3 May 2019
Ever noticed a chive bud before? This is the first I remember noticing. Tiny.
The lake was pretty still this afternoon, and the solar gain put the porch temp above 70°F. Yay!
Lovely sunset. Note: no leaves.
Tuesday, 30 April 2019
We—meaning mostly The Guru—did some chainsaw woodwork, the kind where a half-fallen tree got converted into a brush pile and some firewood. I’m sad that it was the sour cherry and about to bloom. Had to go, though. Have to admit that the birds always got most of the fruit…they are clever, fast beasties.
I can report that the rhubarb survived another winter of inattention. Except for the deer, who made a trail right through two of the plants with their sharp hoofies. Protection has been added in the form of branches and tents of hardware cloth. Hope to clear out the grass before we go…weather, are you listening?, permitting.
Monday, 29 April 2019
Yesterday, I went out for a walk and found sunshine and ramps (Allium tricoccum).
Today, I found overcast as I stepped out the door, and a minute later, heard small noises on the leaves…white stuff…not rain. It quit within fifteen minutes. Still.
Now, the wood heater is keeping us warm, and I’m hoping for fine solar gain tomorrow.
Thursday, 25 April 2019
Today was one of those days I was busy, but at the same time didn’t feel I was getting things done. Now, I look back, and hmm, I did get things done!
Wednesday, 24 April 2019
Having already demonstrated that The Foot is a functional gardening appendage, I did more, mostly removing unpruned azaleas. Also got soil amendment mixed in around the quince and lavender, here with added basil plants—both regular Genovese and Thai. Watered everything in, and hope all will settle in and produce!
Hit 83°F yesterday, and only a mere 82°F today. Yup, AC is on upstairs in self-defense (skylight accelerates the solar gain!), although night will be cool-ish.
Tuesday, 23 April 2019
Let’s mix it up and begin with today’s flower: rosa blanca. And her rosa-blanca friends.
I believe this sign. I do not believe this tree. Looks darned deceased to me. Too bad.
Last week up the way there was sub-surface utility fixing going on. Interesting that they ran out of metal road plates; the one on the left is a double layer of plywood with a rope loop to control it.
Today, the subsurface work extended across the median—more plywood. And the clever fixit crews’ machinery effectively blocked the route of the garbage trucks, so our street remains lined with unemptied herbie-kerbies. Somehow the recycling truck made it through—I suspect running earlier than the garbage-vehicle. [I predict the tree on the left dies within a decade. Unfortunately.]
Oh, my, don’t we live in an ongoing play!
* This refers to a sign we saw in NC the other day at a roadside firewood place. Write your own play reflecting the phrase. Extra points for using “political economy” in the dialogue.
Sunday, 21 April 2019
Lily posing on Easter. On our dinner table.
We got outta town and drove into the mountains…where spring is a couple of weeks behind ATL.
And major rain over the last three days made rushing streams and puddles to reflect the blue sky.
The azaleas and dogwoods are in their prime here. Thank you latitude and longitude magic.
Assertive infrastructure above.
Saturday, 20 April 2019
Left arrow is difficult for even me to decode, but it’s pointing at our slightly leggy ornamental quince, newly moved to this location (before the rain rain rain storm). Still needs top-dressing. And into the quince’s old spot: a large hemispherical lavender, transplanted from a kindly neighbor’s yard (too much shade).
Right arrow is pointing at soggy-but-still-with-blooms pink-white azalea.
In the first ¶, note the verb “moved.” How did the plant get moved? In short, there was digging and wrestling and two people. Note the verb “digging.” Yes, the first digging since the Foot Thing happened. Felt good, no pain, no strangeness; just strength. Yay! (I was super apprehensive before this….)