Ghostwater Garden

Of Interest

It's interesting to scroll through the referrer's log for my pages. One search result turned up this page along with the one that brought my visitor in: Ontario Gardener

This goes on my list of possible subscriptions. I get a passel of garden mags already, but one centered in Ontario is sure to focus on plants that will do well in Michigan.

It is a frustration of the national magazines that they just can't be all things to all people. And while I do enjoy reading about plants that do well elsewhere... sometimes it feels like there are whole issues full of plants that I would be insane to try to grow here, much as I might love them. (Crocosimia 'Lucifer' for example, I tried, in the best location I could find. The hummingbirds fought over nectar rights. For all of one summer. Sigh.)

And here is another good page I just found while checking my spelling of crocosimia... Dig It

Garden Grump

I love the song of the bluebird, that of the song sparrow, and the sudden surprise of the woodpecker's call. But the wren's song drives me crazy. I call him 'Old Maniacal' because of his endless twitter.

I welcome most birds on my site, and the wren is among the ones I like to see. I just wish he'd chosen to sing anywhere else - not right outside my office window.

Grumble.

Much Excellent Energy

Garden day went really well. We got stuff done that wasn't even on the list, because there is nothing like the 'oh, duh!' moment of somebody saying 'What about that?' and realizing it had become invisible to you.

Good, good energy, and my front yard looks absolutely fantastic!

My fav of the day:
Talking as the last few folks were leaving and saying 'You know, this is the first year I have been able to look at my flower borders and just enjoy them,' and having K say, 'Well, yeah. They work.'
Yay! I'm doing something right!
Funny how a small word can be so much.

'Course now I am not sure if the warm feeling I have is a job well done, or muscle burn that is going to kick my ass tomorrow... probably a bit of both.

There's still polishing to be done, but I'm down to a comprehensible amount of labor, and can see my way through. Hurrah for good friends!

And young Fi is a born gardener - she was getting weeds out with some massive root systems. Excellent work!

And the rain held off until mid evening.

And J did a tremendous job of clearing out years and years of weedy grass and goldenrod from my future 'woodland' garden area.

And I can't thank folks enough.

And lest she thinks I forget her, L for getting me all the way through the day without stress spazzing out.

Thanks, all!

Roses

My little roses are just starting their season. Right now I just have unnamed miniatures that I pick up at the grocery store. They go in the ground and are perfectly happy in zone five. The first bloomer this year is a delicate and riffled edged rose in a soft, soft apricot.

The entire plant is so small I could cup it in my hands. She's like a dainty pixie and I can't help but smile every time I pass her.

I've Created A Monster...

Mark is always on me for my scavenging habits.

I pick up all kinds of stuff, mostly for the garden. He will sigh, and moan, and refuse to stop to look at stuff curbside. I deal with it. Mostly by picking up stuff when he's not around.

The other day, we saw a roll of carpet roadside in the subdivision here, and he agreed to grab it for landscape fabric for the front borders. It barely was enough for the area we needed it for, but it was enough. Life was good.

There's a bunch of carpet on H Road, he said.
Mm. I said.

We went by it last weekend. He pointed it out.
Oh, yeah, I said. There's a lot of it.

Today he comes home from work and says, I'm going to get that carpet. We can use it around the compost area.

Great.
I go with him. There was a lot of it.

We have a ... discussion... regarding the largest roll. He wanted it. I didn't. I don't like anything I can't manhandle by myself. And mystery carpet, really... a little bit at a time is a fine thing... all of that? *nose wrinkle*

He commenced trying to jam it into the escort station wagon by himself.

I gave up the fight. After much shoehorning, we got it in, along with a few additional pieces.

Of course, getting it out of the car was easier, but then it had to be hauled around to the back of the garage. I now have a pile of carpet back there bigger than my compost pile.

*shakes head*

I can't believe it.

He won't pick up rock on construction sites in Connecticut (lovely jasper red rock - layered and interesting).

He won't pick up old broken concrete from the site kittycat from our friend's house, where they are going to demo the house and put in several where the one stands now...

He won't... but mystery carpet... mystery carpet he will snag.

I don't pretend to understand.