The tool holder is hanging from the side of the house near the vegetable garden. It’s great to have a handy place to put my oft-used garden tools. They’ll be right where I need them throughout the growing season. The arrow points away from the garden. It’s a subliminal message directed at the snails: lunch is that way. Nothing to see here, mollusks.
Ceramic knobs
Nick reclaimed the knobs from his mother’s former kitchen. They looked vaguely familiar at first, but I couldn’t recall why. Later I remembered buying the very same knobs for a project years and years ago.
What goes around, comes around, in more ways than one.
Inspired by Pauline at The Contented Crafter, I planted an EarthBox™ this weekend with assorted salad greens. The heirloom tomatoes self-seeded this year and are well on their way. I’m looking forward to a summer full of fresh garden salads.
The EarthBox™ planting system is a great way to grow vegetables in small spaces. It’s a fully contained gardening system. The box comes with
an aeration screen
fill tube
Dolomite
Fertilizer
Mulch cover
You pack the lower corners of the box with potting mix, then add additional mix to the two-inch mark. On top of the mix you add a layer of Dolomite (premeasured and provided in the kit). After mixing in the Dolomite, you create a small trench down the center of the box and add the premeasured fertilizer. Finally, you add the remaining soil, the cover, and you’re ready to plant.
Our backyard garden has very little full sun. This box allows me to extend my growing space by wheeling it to the edge of the patio in the path of the sun. It’s a great system for first time gardeners, since all the guess-work is done for you. It conserves water, another plus since you add water through a fill tube. This encourages the water to flow to the bottom where the roots will follow. No surface drying and no leakage.
I used a similar product called a City Picker for last year’s tomatoes. The plants did well, but it was difficult to stake them in such a shallow pot. They’re growing in the raised beds this summer instead.
I added a band of copper tape barrier to the box and the lower rungs of the trellis. The tape creates a small electrical charge that snails won’t cross. It’s a cruelty-free, organic way to ensure snail-free salad.
Copper tape discourages snails
Copper tape on trellis
Last, but not least, I planted a handful of sweat peas from seed along the back of the box. (Thank you, Boomdee). If all goes according to plan, I’ll have a box brimming with purple flowers and fresh salad greens for months to come.
Variety adds spice, predictability keeps us grounded.
I enjoy the novelty of each season, and their predictable arrival. Though it feels like winter passed us by, the planet continues to rotate. Once a year I celebrate the Vernal Equinox, aka the first day of spring.
I found a super-cool site called Time and Date that spells out the specifics if you’re curious. I was. I love learning new things. As gardeners in the Northern Hemisphere welcome spring, green thumbs in the Southern Hemisphere are seeing in the first day of fall.
My celebration is simple: I plant. Nothing says spring like tucking seeds under the soil with optimism in your heart.
I also pulled weeds, topped of the planter boxes with rich soil, checked on the mini-greenhouse *and* remembered to do a good job with my sunscreen. Lindy kept me company, happy to be outdoors on this glorious day.
Lindy-lu
Planter boxes, rotating composter, mini-greenhouse and worm bin
The hummingbirds circled the feeder, jockeying for territory.
Swooping in for some nectar
They’re also drinking from the Abutilon lining the fence.
Abutilon lines the fence near the patio
I heard a squirrel overhead, and noticed activity in the little mason bee nesting house. What a day!
Mason Bee Habitat
How is this for serendipity: the lovely Boomdee sent me several packets of sweat peas, and they arrived yesterday! Perfect timing. She sent a purple variety as well so that my sister, Sharon can enjoy them when she’s here.
Goodies from Boomdee
To round out the day, I popped in to SummerWinds Nursery and picked up an EarthBox™ and some potting mix. I’m planting assorted lettuces in the front of the box, with the sweet peas in the back. The trellis from the now-deceased Hardenbergia is the perfect size. I’ve placed it at the edge of the lawn near the patio for easy viewing. I can’t wait to watch them grow.
There is much more to do, as their always is this time of year, but I enjoy it all. Wishing you the best of the new season, be it spring or fall.
St. Patrick’s Day means different things to different people. For me it was always an excuse to wear green (my favorite color) and to act silly.
Image my delight to find another gardener in our neighborhood who feels the same way. I discovered her clever shrubs last fall on my morning walk. She prunes the plants into orbs, then gives them different haircuts. In October they had a Halloween theme. My one regret was not getting back there with my camera. Then last week, I saw this:
Neighborhood garden
This is a gardener with a fabulous sense of humour. I popped over there Sunday morning when the light was still good, and took some closeups of these delightful merry-makers.
Happy go lucky
Too much green beer?
Back home I spent a few hours greening up the fairy garden while visiting with my sister.
I may have to stay up all night to see if I spot fairies *and* leprechauns in the wee garden. Wouldn’t that be great fun?
Fairy garden
Creating fairy gardens is a wonderful way to relax. It blends creativity, a bit of gardening and the challenge of using what you have on hand. If you’ve never tried it, why not give it a go. You’re in for a pleasant surprise.
Even Kermit the Frog eventually agrees, it’s okay to be green. ♣♣♣
Just a hint of a rainbow
Follow the path
Can you see the pot of gold at the “end” of the rainbow?
Last year I planted Baker heirloom tomatoes from seed, a gift from my nurseryman friend, Doug. They produced beautifully through the early fall.
Tomatoes on the vine, 2013
Tomato seeds are small, so I left a glob of wet seeds together to dry on a piece of cardboard. I usually dry seeds on wax paper, but I was fresh out, so I used the back of a tea box instead. Once dried, all the seeds stuck to the paper. No worries. I just stored them in a glassine bag, cardboard and all. Earlier this week I planted the seeds along with the cardboard in my mini green house. We’ll see how it goes.
Tomatoes, squared:
In order to hedge my bets, I bought a packet of seeds from fellow blogger Stacey Weichert at Down To Earth Digs. The seeds from Stacey’s garden are also heirloom. She calls them Natures Riddle. They came packaged in a cute paper envelope. You can check them out at her Etsy shop.
Tomatoes to the third power:
While busy saving and buying seeds, my garden bed had a good chuckle and then planted a few of its own. They’re spaced nicely, too so minimal thinning required. Prior experience tells me that these volunteers will be a hardy bunch. Since I planted five or six varieties last year, I don’t know which ones will come up.
Volunteer tomatoes
Tomatoes cubed:
The mathematical goddess of tomatoes is really having a good time with me. One small tomato plant seeded and grew out of the bottom of my cylinder composting bin. I don’t know what it’s chances of survival are, but I’m inclined to let it grow and see what comes of it. Plenty of people grow tomatoes upside down in Topsy Turvy containers. Why not a compost bin?
Compost tomato
Composting bin, the long view
In the world of gardening, anything can happen between now and tomato time. Blight, tobacco horn worms, the Cosmos. Preferring the optimists path however, if things work out I’ll be giving away little tomato plants all over town.
I’ll leave you with this funny quote:
“Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is knowing that a tomato doesn’t belong in a fruit salad.”
I moped on the couch for a while this morning, nursing my second cold in as many weeks. Then I hauled myself back up and went outside. The sun is shining today with a high of 77 degrees F (25 degrees C). Cold or no cold, I needed to be outside in that fresh air. Lindy, Slinky and Mouse all thought so too, so they followed me outdoors.
After wandering around the garden, I donned my gloves and my shears and tackled one of my projects: the now deceased Hardenbergia vine.
Dismantling the vine
Digging it up wasn’t possible, but at least I could cut back the woody vines. I used my “Martha Stewart” ruby saw and a pair of lopping shears and chopped the vine back to the roots. Over the past decade, the Hardenbergia gradually wound its vines around the trellis, rooting it to the ground below. I pruned away the dead wood in parts, a bit like disassembling a puzzle.
“Puzzle” pieces
When done, I poked around in the soil in search of clues. No obvious sign of the plant’s demise was evident (like a gopher or a fungus). Perhaps it was just time.
Rope like vines embrace the trellis
Beauty, even in death
Now that the vine and trellis are out, I’m giving some thought to the replacement. The Hardenbergia required a major pruning once a year, a task that had me up on the ladder for long stretches of time. Planting something closer to the ground is more my speed these days.
Three weeks ago I hauled out my shovel and my grubs and got to work digging up the grass. Not all the grass, but a small swath surrounding the curb garden and the Chinese Pistache. Baby steps.
The plan is to replace it with drought-tolerant ground cover or small paving stones. Removing the grass is also better for the tree. Most trees need very little water once established. Ours is no exception.
This is my attempt to reduce the ‘footprint’ of the lawn in our parched corner of the world. We re-landscaped our front yard about three years ago, in part to install a ramp. My sister, who struggles with MS, could barely make it over the threshold of our home. We removed the original lawn, put in a deck and the ramp, then rounded things out with shrubs…and more grass. Although the square footage is less, I still find myself feeling a bit guilty offering a drink to a thirsty lawn during a drought.
Any way, back to the shovel and grubs. I worked for an hour and this is all I have to show for it.
Digging up some lawn
It was much harder than I thought it would be. I don’t have the tools (nor the spine) to complete it. I feel a bit defeated by it all, as this was my idea, and I really want to see it through. I’m having to face the challenges of aging joints, old injuries and the reality that I’m not in my twenties any more…or thirties…and so on.
Plan B is to hire some help. I have three projects that need more strength then I can muster:
removing a thick, dead vine,
replacing what’s left of the lavender, and
getting rid of the swath of grass.
One of our beloved Hardenbergia died last year. It used to cover the entire fence in the spring and summer with stunning purple blooms. I pruned it back each year, and it returned bigger and brighter than ever…and then it didn’t. I waited an entire year, because I hate giving up on plants. Not the tiniest sign of life. It needs to go.
Lavender lines the deck
The lavender is dwindling, too, for reasons unknown. We started with five plants lining the deck. Four thrived, one struggled and finally died. Last fall, a second one died and then the frost hit. They’re all looking pretty sad. I figured it was a good time to take them out and replace them with drought-tolerant Salvia (Mexican Bush Sage). Saliva is also a beautiful purple, and it attracts hummingbirds and bees. Once established, it doesn’t need any water! You can’t beat that.
Those are my big projects for the season, and I can’t do any of them myself. I’m struggling with that, but at the same time need to face this reality and get on with it. My sister helps me keep it all in perspective.
Things are popping up all over the garden. Don’t you love this time of year?
With plenty of evidence of a squirrel invasion and the later-than-recommended planting date, I tried to keep my expectations low. I’d seen daffodils in full bloom throughout the neighborhood,but mine were still a no-show.
A watched pot never boils, so I feigned indifference. Up popped the ‘Daffies. I planted fifty of them in the curb garden, interspersed with last year’s perennials. I lost count due to feline distractions, but I’m pretty sure most of them came up.
Daffodils break ground
Chocolate mint
Mint is a bit like ivy. It will rule the garden if left undisturbed. So with a watchful eye, I hope to encourage the mint to trail over the edges of the garden bed, to leave plenty of room for everything else. It’s beautiful and fragrant and super easy to grow.
I think this is Thyme
I think this is Thyme, but don’t remember planting it.I looked at my planting list, and thyme wasn’t included. That’s okay, though. I like a little mystery in a garden.
Feline border patrol
Mighty Mouse, my feline adviser wouldn’t take no for an answer. He hounded me throughout my rounds, insisting I pick him up. I rested my foot on the support of the box and he made his move. His special party trick involves springing from the ground on to my shoulder or my back. It’s fine in the winter months when I’m wearing a jacket, but summer shoulder-hopping is strongly discouraged. Ouch!
Curb Garden
That’s the long view of the curb garden. We’re just ten days away from the Northern Hemisphere’s first day of spring. I. Can’t. Wait!
I’ve been trying all week to get a decent photo of our four-in-one fruit tree. Earlier in the week it was grey and the photos reflected that. Now that the sun is out, I’m having trouble getting the contrast. So, here is my attempt at a photo of the tree. Please use your imagination when I say it is quite beautiful. I wish I could share it with you up close.
On the plus side, it was delightful watching the little yellow-breasted birds flitting from branch to branch. I’m not sure if they are eating part of the flower, or an insect under the bloom. The tree saw all sorts of activity this week. I’ve counted hummingbirds, bees and yellow finches among the visitors and could hear mourning doves nearby. Hurray for the sounds of early spring.
Do you know the expression If it were a snake, it would have bit me?
According to the Urban Dictionary, the expression is commonly used in the southern United States, when after searching for a misplaced item, you discover it right in front of you.
Last year I bought a canister of wildflower seeds, planning to scatter them in the new curb garden. It would be a fun activity with the wee gardeners next door. They had such a good time planting and harvesting carrots.
As happens in life, one thing lead to another and before I knew it, time was running out. I searched high and low throughout the garage for those seeds, but to no avail. After a cursory search, I went back and did a methodical search. Still nothing. Then the self-doubt crept in. Did I just *think* I bought them, but only thought about it? Could I blame this on ‘menopause brain’? Where is that canister of seeds?
You know where this is going, don’t you?
While putting away my bucket of tools, I noticed a *bag* of wildflower seeds. Head slap. I didn’t buy the canister after all, I bought the bag. Since I was looking for a canister, my eyes continuously bypassed the bag of seeds staring right at me from the shelf.
Wildflower Mix
I had a good laugh at myself, before putting the bag back where I found it. I would not be fooled again. The first day of spring in the Northern Hemisphere is two weeks from today. This time I’m ready.
Gardening Nirvana 