November Surprise

Limelight hydrangea, salvia and brunnera

We know what an October surprise is in an election year. Sometimes we have some late season surprises in the garden as well.  When something survives the first frost and re-blooms--that's a happy surprise.

Yesterday, on the first day of November, I took a photo of a forgotten patch in the backyard of my uncle's place, where nature has performed without any human assistance except a little recent weeding.

I was a little distressed when early last spring I found that the two large limelight hydrangea "trees" had been chopped down to the ground. Now they have regrown and produced late white blooms. A few mums have also survived here to bloom and one lone salvia has returned. A few basic brunnera grow here, too. Nothing was done to this patch--not a drop of extra water either. The maple in full glory provides a brilliant backdrop for this little fall vignette.

This was taken on a cloudy late afternoon (check out the grey sky between the leaves)--and yet, so bright and beautiful!

The Promise of a Plant

A special daylily

Many years ago--it might have been 5 or 6 (time flies when you are old!)--a former professor at my college promised me a slip of a daylily which he had purchased and been allowed to name by a hybridizer. It was maroon and gold, the colors of the college. And so he named it after the college. It was a unique cultivar (among the tens of thousands of others), and now I have a piece of it, growing in two different spots in my yard. And so does O.

I can't believe it took me so long, but I remembered, and he remembered, too. It had to be late summer, after the daylily had finished blooming. Year after year passed and I was worried he might pass on (he is in great shape and will probably live longer than I!) before I came to claim my unique specimen.

But on August 22 we found him home and happy to share.

I also found out that he cultivates 24 amaryllis bulbs (Amaryllis belladonna) according to a strict schedule which he had learned from someone who grew them in their native habitat in South Africa, including four distinct seasons, with 6 bulbs at any given time in the blooming phase, 6 of them are set outside for new summer growth, six of them are put in cold dormancy and six of them grow in a sunny window: bloom, grow and feed, dormancy, and new growth. His dormancy period is in their house refrigerator. He said his wife is very patient with him.

I am proud of my success with one amaryllis. A corner of my cement basement floor serves as my "fridge" in the winter months, but I don't follow a feed and growth regimen after flowering, so I will try to do better with that phase. A previous post this year shows the new baby amaryllis bulb which is likely still attached and feeding off the mother, having bloomed sequentially last spring.

Anyway, I quickly found two spots for my new small rhizome clumps (we left him plenty) which get a modest amount of sun in my shady yard.

Today as the sun came out after a good and welcome 2-inch rain, I took a photo of how one of the two has sprouted new growth since August.

Yes, these little things bring me joy, my new way to reflect about choices I make. The new thought (from daughter M.) is supposed to be a conscious way of thinking about getting rid of things that no longer bring joy--like most of the things in my basement. But so far, it has been applied more to food and flowers than to all the foolishness that is my basement!

Variegated Porcelain Berry Vine

It is very hard to capture the late summer beauty of this vine that I allow to grow (more than a little out of control) on my property and at Uncle J's. I even let it invade the rosa glauca where it entwines the branches with its variegated leaves and tiny flowers which the bees love--but alas the bee population is totally diminished in the area.

This enlarged and enhanced photo gives some notion of the range of colors of the berries that adorn this vine today--all the way to a peacocky turquoise. (Yes, peacocky is a word, at least on Words with Friends!)

And so I let this invasive vine have its way in my yard, ripping it down after frost or in the spring. And every berry that is not eaten potentially creates a new plant the next year (which pulls out easily).

My Tall and Proud Amaryllis

I can't resist one more post/pic of my amaryllis bulb in bloom, which I think is in its 8th year now under my care. And of course, I am the one with all the pride.

These are the last two blooms on the original bulb's stalk. One year it produced four blooms. But last year it had a baby. I found a larger pot for it this spring and the baby produced three blooms, earlier. Having a baby always takes a little out of you! However, the mother stalk grew a little taller than the upstart sidekick.

I am still experimenting a little with the new camera on my S9 Samsung phone, and the new photo editor. I applied an edit here which was called cozy. I like that. It just warms it up a tad.

My side yard (in view) is still a little undeveloped, but many hostas are yet to fill it in. Notice the tulip patch, which began to open up just yesterday. Now the blooms are closed due to last night's rain and cooler morning weather.

A Spring-clean Dump and a Naked Burger

Yard waste "dump" cleared - with a  fresh layer of gravel added

When you have several properties and gardens that you are in charge of, it is never too early to get started with spring cleanup! And unless you have a "back 40" composting area, you need to find a place for all that debris.

With the cold and very dry weather, the city decided to open up the Butterworth yard waste facility yesterday, March 23, a little early--a place we affectionately refer to as THE DUMP. City street pickup will begin April 2, so I happily took my bags away, rather than wait--and/or pay.

I am glad  to have a free facility available. Eventually all the debris gets chipped up for mulch. City brown bags are $2.50. I would guess we had a $35 load. And when you go with a friend, it becomes a pleasant activity. Especially with such a clean space (see above) and no smell. (It is not like that in July, with all the steaming lawn grass piled high).

And then the reward of a little lunch or treat.

Actually, that is how I bribed friend O. to pick me and my bags up, in her very large SUV.

We found that the yard waste facility was not only spring-clean and cleared, it was devoid of any other dumpers when we arrived around noon. I referenced that it was like a ghost (town?) dump, although there were 3 city workers on hand. A women made sure we were residents and two men helped us unload and shake out the dozen or so brown paper and contractor size plastic bags. I guess they were bored, with nothing else to do there--but I never before in all these years have had any help with a car load of bags. One guy noticed one of O's tires was a little low...

Yes, I bribed O. with the promise of a naked burger. At the usual nearby Mc Donalds. She had a triple cheeseburger with no bun--that's the naked part! She is eating low-carb. I am trying to get on that wagon as well, although I indulged with two topless burgers--with just one exposed bun-top, turned upside down, lol.

Spring 2018

Crocus popping through the euonymus ground cover

Looking for blooming signs of spring in the yard on the afternoon of the Spring Equinox, I found very little color, a little green, and lots of brown. It was sunny and chilly on this first day of Spring.

About to sprout blooms are the petasites japonica (butterbur), little patches of light green that precede the emergence of the giant dark green leaves which appear much later. These slightly invasive plants do well pond-side, but have managed to survive in my dry side yard under the trees. Sometimes on hot July days they lay down flat on the ground, perking up again after a shower.

Butterbur

The Lenten rose only needs a few more warm days before beginning to bloom. I planted it last fall, digging it out from Joanne's yard. I don't know whether it will start to bloom before Easter.

Lenten Rose

That's about it for blooms. No daffodils yet. No Kaufmanniana tulips. The other tulips are about 3-4 inches high.