I changed the settings in my comment section today. Please let me know if it becomes cumbersome in any way.
More and more, I see “someone” or “anonymous” comments from regular readers. WordPress has settings to avoid spam, but if not logged in, it apparently allows the comment without identifying the user.
Another puzzle, as yet unresolved, showed up earlier this week. My spam folder contained several comments, all from long-time followers. I usually ignore the spam folder, assuming it’s doing its job, so it was a shock to see these lovely comments land there.
I’ve used some of the forums in the past, but without much success, or frankly, patience, trying to get through the weeds. In my world, weeds are tamed from a kneeling pad, garden fork at hand.
If you’re a WordPress user, commenting while logged in lets me know it’s you.
If you’re a friend popping in from Facebook, you can leave your name and email address (the email is never published), so I know it’s you.
And finally, as my mother used to say: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” Alas, that’s what the spam filter is for, yet here we are.
The lovely Cathy at Rambling in the Garden encourages her followers to share a vase of flowers from our garden each Monday. It’s also a fun way to explore the creative side of flower arranging. She calls it In a Vase on Monday or IAVOM.
It’s April, so the options are plentiful.
I’ve cut flowers for three vases today, using two garden components in each.
The tall glass jar has been patiently waiting for long stems. My friend Jasmin filled it with sunflowers and brought it to a dinner party earlier this year. I’m happy to have three lovely Calla Lily (Zantedeschia aethiopica) stems to show off the glass shape. I’ve clipped twining green fern (asparagus setaceus) for a walk on the wild side.
My second vase, also a gift, came from a friend’s kitchen. I’ve been helping her declutter, and when I spotted this pretty pitcher, I mentioned how much I loved the pattern. Portmieren debuted this collection in 1972 when I was 12. She said it had belonged to her mother, and she was getting rid of it, so lucky me.
It’s not intended for flowers, but that’s never stopped me. My research indicates it’s a “Garden Drum Jug Pitcher from their Portmieren Botanical Garden collection,” but around here it will now be known as a flower vase. I’ve filled it with sweet peas (Lathyrus odoratus) and sprigs of Jerusalem sage (Phlomis fruticosa), a soft-leafed beauty from the garden.
The final vase for the day is a tiny treasure I picked up in nearby Campbell from a shop that sells items made in California. It’s no taller than a deck of cards, but perfect for these sprigs of Silver Siberian bugloss (Brunnera macrophylla ‘Jack Frost’), along with more of the green fern.
I’ve placed the first vase on our dining table,
the sweet peas in our living room,
and the wee vase on a shelf in my crafting room.
It’s sitting on my “homage to Canada” shelf, along with a photo of my mom, and other Canada treasures. The framed art above are a pair of garden designs from one of my dad’s horticulture studies. The mixed media tag with the nigella is a gift from artist and blogger Wilma Millette nd the postage card is from my friend Donna.
Please visit Cathy, our In a Vase on Monday host, at Rambling in the Garden to see what others are sharing. I promise an uplifting experience.
I’ve been enjoying the process of creating imprints from some of our vibrant garden greens. In turn, I’ve cut those prints into panels or used dies to cut sentiments, before making them into cards.
I experimented with this technique nearly ten years ago. At the time, I tried different papers, including an old file folder, watercolor paper, craft paper, and vellum. I learned that not all paper is created equal, and the same goes for flowers and leaves. Some transferred beautifully, while others looked more like mud.
It was a pleasant surprise going through my sample booklet, seeing plumosa fern (Asparagus setaceus) and the catmint or catnip (Nepeta) prints still retained a lovely shade of green.
Using a die to cut from Nepeta imprint
The subtle, earthy scent remains on the watercolor paper, at least initially. In some of the images, you can see the impression of the stems.
Poor lighting, but if you look closely you can see the green imprint cut into a leafy shape.
When I first tried this technique, our cat Mouse jumped on the desk, enticed by the lovely Nepeta, also known as catmint. I miss this sweet boy.
The fern in these prints has been with me since 1988, when I bought it for seventy-nine cents at a now-defunct nursery. I rented an apartment in those days, where the fern lived on my nightstand next to the bed. The plant followed me everywhere, and by the time we bought this house, it was huge. We finally planted it in the ground, and it’s done well in that spot for nearly thirty years.
It’s fun blending two hobbies into one.
Mirrored images: one fern frond pressed between two pieces of watercolor paper.
Spring officially arrived in the Northern Hemisphere today, but you wouldn’t know it by the weather. An insufferable heat wave landed in San Jose on Monday, with temperatures all week ranging from 89 to 92F, nearly 25 degrees above seasonal norms. I’m looking forward to cooler days starting tomorrow.
Screenshot
It’s hard to gauge how the garden will react long-term. The majority of our garden is native or drought-tolerant, but heat waves in March are new. We’re constantly adapting.
Gardens are a thing of beauty this time of year, and a treat for all the senses. I’m grateful for this patch of earth.
Freesias are growing along the walkway to the front deck, en masse, with others dotting the path to our garden bench and tucked here and there. One of the bulbs planted itself under the Russian sage, and now stands taller than any I’ve seen. I wish you could see it at dusk with the last of the sun streaming through. The photo doesn’t do it justice.
Sweet peas have painted the garden in gorgeous pastels, while the nasturtiums add pops of bright red, orange, and yellow. It’s always hard to thin some of the interlopers, but I needed to make room for things to come.
Mike helped me place netting and garden stakes along the curb to keep the sweet peas off the sidewalk. The vines rapid growth ads to the wafting scents in the air. Of all the flowers I’ve grown over the years, those lovely, fragrant, soft-petaled sweet peas charm passers-by. They evoke a gentle nostalgia.
When I walked up the driveway this morning, I noticed the red carnation already in bloom, with the other two plants soon to follow. I had never seen carnations, officially known as Dianthus caryophyllus, for sale at a nursery before, so these additions two seasons ago to the front garden are a delight.
I forget how spectacular this candy-cane azalea is this time of year. You have to walk around the side of the house to see it, nestled against the wall of our garage. I trim the azalea once a year after it blooms to keep it from over-taking the space. It remains healthy, but instead of a round shape, it’s wide and flat.
I gave the lemon tree a hard prune last year as it was overdue. My research indicated that the tree would skip a year before bearing fruit again, but it otherwise looks healthy.
Next week we’re having a new roof installed, so fingers crossed that the demolition of the current one goes well. They should be tossing the debris off the front of the roof into a bin in the driveway, and not sending old shingles into the garden. I might be “holding my breath” for a week.
I hope you and yours are doing well, and finding some light and joy.
An impromptu browse through the garden this morning revealed unexpected pinks and purples on a dark and drizzly day. December rain cleared most of the remaining foliage on the dormant hydrangea bringing into focus a pair of out-of-season blooms blushing against the grey sky. These garden anomalies make me smile.
Raindrops linger amid the lavenders, pinks, and blues of this small, January hydrangeaOff-season pink hydrangea
According to Jafe Decorating, “Pink is widely recognized for its calming and soothing effects on the human psyche. Studies have shown that exposure to the color pink can reduce feelings of anger, aggression, and anxiety, creating a serene and tranquil environment, helping to alleviate stress and tension.”
Shades of pink and purple appear in the center of this succulent
Succulent, possibly a Pachyphytum
and along the edges of its companion.
Penwiper Plant (Kalanchoe marmorata)
These plants came in a hanging basket and made do with cramped quarters for some time, but once they had room to spread out, they quickly dominated this raised bed. They tolerate the cold and can mostly handle the heat, though they get a bit of sunburn on scorching days.
Aeonium haworthiiAeonium haworthii
At the corner of our patio, the first of the pink hyacinths is up, with more pinks and purples to follow. They remind me of Mom, who once gave each of us one for Christmas along with a glass bulb-growing vase. I still remember what a thrill it was seeing that fragrant flower emerge from the top, but being able to see the roots, too.
By now, I was on a mission to find anything remotely pink or purple in the garden. Everything smells wonderful after a rain, so I took my time and turned up one more, this tiny flowering ground cover that self-seeds as it pleases, and has done so for thirty years.
Pink knotwood (Persicaria capitata)
The last of the pinks is a collection of Christmas cacti that live on the kitchen counter under diffused light. I can’t remember a time when they bloomed so profusely. They are a balm for the weary soul.
Today is the final day of Cathy’s garden meme. I’ve enjoyed revisiting many of my garden favorites, even if I only managed three out of seven days.
A tip of the hat to the other gardeners who shared photos and checked in all week, and to Cathy for inviting us to share.
As we head toward the winter solstice, we can look back and forward, while enjoying the in between. It’s time for spring and summer gardens to rest, so that they can burst forth with color, energy, and strength the following year. I realized today that most of my spring garden favorites have an intoxicating scent. I’ve gradually introduced seven of the ten most fragrant flowers.
Now close your eyes and imagine the warming earth, bulbs breaking ground, and finally flowers releasing that wonderful scent. Floral scents attract birds, bees, bats, and other pollinators, each fragrance drawing the right crowd. Who’s to say that we don’t play a part as well as we breathe in that aromatic scent, breathing out a bit of energy as we inhale, exhale, inhale, and repeat.
Cathy of Words and Herbs is hosting a week-long meme celebrating the stars of our gardens over this past year. It’s a chance to look back and also to imagine forward, as to garden well, is to plan. That doesn’t mean all goes according to plan, but you learn that planting lettuce in the heat of the summer or forgetting to get your bulbs in the ground on time can lead to disappointment.
Without further ado (it’s day five, but this is the first day I’ve had time to post), here are a few of my garden darlings, and an adorable photo of our grand-pooch.
Our pink and blue hydrangeas are summer stunners. These are known as Bigleaf Hydrangeas(Hydrangea macrophylla).They span shades of fuchsia to cranberry, periwinkle to admiral blue, and even shades of green. It all comes down to the soil pH.
Oversized Hydrangea blooms
According to Wikipedia:
“The pink hydrangea has risen in popularity all over the world, especially in Asia. The given meaning of pink hydrangeas is popularly tied to the phrase “you are the beat of my heart,” as described by the celebrated Korean florist Tan Jun Yong, who was quoted saying, “The light delicate blush of the petals reminds me of a beating heart, while the size could only match the heart of the sender!”[36]
Hydrangeas were used by the Cherokee people of what is now the Southern U.S. as a mild diuretic and cathartic; it was considered a valuable remedy for bladder stones.
If you follow this link to Cathy’s page, you will find other garden bloggers sharing their favs.
Thank you for hosting, Cathy, and for all the goodwill.
After several years of near-constant pain and impaired mobility, I had my right hip replaced in February, followed by a new left hip earlier this month. I’m relieved to have both surgeries behind me. To pass the time, I cropped a photo of one of my new joints, added a pair of eyes, and created a less clinical image of the new joint.
Screenshot
Today, my in-home PT assessed my balance using the Berg Balance Scale, and I scored 47 out of 56. A score of 41-56 indicates low risk and independent walking. I’ll take it.
Over the next four weeks, I could dislocate my hip if I move it past a 90-degree angle, which, in garden-speak, translates to averting my eyes as the weeds sprout. After an unusually mild November, we’re finally seeing true fall weather, including rain. All those weed seeds have been waiting in the wings for their grand entrance.
They’re unlikely to go to seed any time soon, and the wet ground will make removal easy when I can finally kneel in the dirt, so for now I must bide my time.
As I heal, I’m able to take photos from a standing position. Mike’s also taking me on daily drives for a change of scenery. Nature is a balm.
From the car window, I watched a crow enjoy a slice of sidewalk pizza in nearby Los Gatos.
I snapped this view of Silicon Valley in the misty fog at the top of Harwood Hill in San Jose.
Heteromeles, commonly known as toyon, are native to our California coast. Not only do they provide food for birds, bears, and coyotes,
“The plant has been used as a treatment for Alzheimer’s disease by indigenous people of California, and recent research has found several active compounds that are potentially beneficial to Alzheimer’s treatment. These include icariside compounds, which protect the blood-brain barrier and prevent infiltration of inflammatory cells into the brain.” Source Wikipedia
The brilliant red berries brighten autumn’s grey days.
These Canada Geese were impervious to the rain outside the Cambrian Community Center. It must be nice to have a built-in raincoat.
Closer to home, a neighbor’s cat named Thor visited our front deck.
This potted alstroemeria recovered well after a broken pipe nearly drowned the plant. Once the roots dried and the heat of summer passed, it made a full recovery.
I plan to follow in the plant’s footsteps and make a full recovery as well.
A dozen years ago, Cathy at Rambling in the Garden started a meme called “In A Vase On Monday”, or IAVOM. She wanted to challenge herself to regularly cut and arrange flowers and greens from her garden. She also challenged fellow garden bloggers, launching a wonderful garden blog meme. It’s a simple concept: cut flowers from your garden, arrange them in a jar or vase, and share them virtually with others. Gardeners post from the UK, Germany, the US, and other parts of the world. Charming, eh?
I’ve enjoyed sharing a garden vase, off and on, over the years, but I lack the dedication of the Monday Vase die-hards. I applaud all of you.
I’m sharing two vases today that highlight my joy of blogging. For me, it’s about the community formed through sharing photos and words, about finding your people in this sometimes fractious world. “In A Vase on Monday” does just that.
I’ve followed Cathy at Words and Herbs for close to 14 years. She posts a beautiful vase most Mondays.
The vase below holds crocheted flowers, a Mother’s Day gift from my youngest son; however, kitty’s “scarf” is an intended bookmark, straight from Cathy’s crochet hook.
Cathy mailed several crocheted bookmarks for our Little Free Library all the way from Germany. Sweet, right? I placed some of her bookmarks in our tiny library; one became a gift topper for a friend,
This second vase is a treasured teacup, a gift from my university friend, Carrielin. I’ve had it for forty years. In mid-October on Eliza Waters’ IAVOM post, I spotted the same cat design. I checked with Eliza to confirm, and sure enough, it’s from the same collection of porcelain art, Couer Minou-ettes, by Portuguese designer C. Pradalie. The pieces aren’t rare, but even so, it delighted me to spot the same design, with flowers, from a fellow garden blogger. Eliza shares from her beautiful garden most Mondays.
If you would like to see what these gardeners and others have shared in a vase today, please follow this link to Cathy’s blog, then check the comments for additional vase posts.
Wisteria symbolizes longevity and grace. For years I longed to have one in our garden. Aren’t they stunning? They need space to grow, though, and space is always at a premium in the garden, because nature abhors a vacuum, and this gardener feels compelled to plant any available earth.
Then opportunity knocked.
When our young Magnolia became infested with scale, I tried to save the tree by manually scraping the scale into a bucket —an arduous, odiferous task. The scale quickly returned, along with ants. I pruned away the center, looked at organic options, and eventually contacted an arborist, but it was all for naught.
It’s tough losing any tree, but here was my chance to grow a Wisteria vine. We repurposed an arch from the back garden, placed it at an angle in the front garden, and planted the vine. The first year of growth was underwhelming, as it often is, but in the years that followed, the vine took off. It flowered vigorously in early Spring, then sent out a second set of blooms later in the year.
At some point, though, the tree went from vigorous to invasive. I couldn’t keep the tendrils off our roof, our neighbor’s roof, a nearby tree, and so on. Clearly, I should have done my research, as I recently read that it is “known for its vigorous and potentially destructive growth.” Now they tell me.
I get attached to plants and trees, and this was no exception, but I’m pragmatic as well. Risking life and limb, damage to the house and the tree nearby meant it had to go.
It was labor-intensive. I started with small garden shears, graduating in size to the base of the tree’s substantial girth. I tried digging out the roots, then Mike had a go, until it became apparent the roots would need to be removed by a tree stump removal service.
Space after removing Wisteria
The space looked empty for a time, but I’ve since planted several succulents that had outgrown their pots. They took to the spot immediately, and by next Spring, they will be well established. They’re also water-wise plants that don’t require much fuss. The freesias came up quickly around the stone walkway, but it will be several months before they flower.
Gardening Nirvana 
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