Sweet Pea Nook

This spring we did a lot of ‘shop on the farm’ projects. If we wanted to build something we hunted around and tried to find possible materials here on the farm. There was a weedy corner in the veggie garden that we weren’t using, so I decided to make it into a Sweet Pea corner.

I poked around and found the metal frame of an old shade shelter that could be repurposed as a Sweet Pea trellis. We fitted the pieces together, tried to make it level, and I planted the sweet pea seed. Some of the seed came from the Sweet Pea garden at FinnRiver Cidery and some of the seed came out of a friend’s freezer where it had been in cold storage for over 10 years. I nicknamed that seed the ‘Phoenix’ seed, because it rose out of the cold and lived again. (Yes, I know that phoenix rise out of fire, but it was the best I could do )

Now we have this tiny, fragrant nook in the corner of the garden. It’s a place to sit for a moment, to breathe in the sweet scent of the flowers. A place to think about rebirth from a freezer or other stasis situations. And a place for imagining and planning more ‘shop on the farm’ projects…

Starry Petunias

Isn’t genetics wonderful? These starry night petunias are the result of some fancy plant breeding. I don’t think think they grow true from seed, so far I have not found any seed available. But for a flower like this, its worth while to buy the plant. I have these in hanging baskets on the front porch. They are a simple blossom that seems to hold a galaxy in each bloom.

Primitive Pie

And here is proof positive that I cannot multitask. I made this peach pie while participating in a Zoom call. I was slapping the pie together and I didn’t really do the ‘trim the crust to fit the pie pan’ part. The crust slumped and created this very primordial looking pie. But it is chock full of lovely peaches and I think it will taste lovely. I will simply call this my primitive style pie…

Getting Going Again

Well, after a hiatus of three years, I am back – posting on my blog. The gardens are more colorful than ever and this spring (now summer) we have had enough heat to get all the plants growing and blooming. Over the last year, I have evicted many of the invasive or ‘thug’ species that were waging botanical warfare in the garden. I still have trouble with the concept of leaving enough room for plants, but I am getting better at that. This is mostly a test blog to see if I can re-activate The Demented Gardener. And I really have to get outside and spread mulch in the perennial garden before a new generation of weeds sprouts and stages a covert assault on the Delphiniums!

Surviving the Storm

I watch the sky a lot, watching for wind, gauging the strength of it. Medium strength winds can send a sailboat skimming across the water in a perfect afternoon sail. But if you double that force in summer when all the trees and shrubs have lofted their billows of leaves – you can have problems. We had an afternoon in June where the wind gusted up to 45mph and swirled past the garden beds. Branches broke. Perennials snapped off at the base. My one tree rose cracked its trunk and did a face plant in the dirt. I vowed to plant only short plants in the future. But now when that storm is just a meteorological memory, I can see that the wind wove my garden into a surprising tapestry. Hollyhocks lean into Rose Campions. Shasta Daisies poke up through Rose foliage. Perennial Linaria wander throughout in shades of light pink and lavender. These color and texture combinations would not occur in an orderly garden where all the plants are forced to stand upright in their place like schoolchildren lining up for a class photo. My garden is more like recess on a beautiful day. The plants are supposed to stay in the playground, but they are free to move and combine as wind and weather encourage them.

I propped up the tree rose and tied it to a strong stake. We’ll see what the next storm brings.

Spring Again

The soil temperature is finally warming up, encouraging soil microbes to increase their levels of metabolism. Seeds that sulked in the ground for weeks are now sprouting. Their internal temperature sensors must be telling them, “Go for it! This is the moment, before the weeds smother us. Time to grow!”

I’m planting a new variety of Rhubarb, Alaska Rhubard. The story is that this variety was bred as a ‘no fail’ plant that gold prospectors could grow in the wild places of the North. All these many years later, some patches of Alaska rhubarb still thrive and mark the locations of the old mining camps. Modern gardeners have collected these stalwart plants and distributed them through the ‘Would you like a Cutting?” network. I collected my cutting from a friend on Marrowstone Island . I’ll grow a clump, then distribute more cuttings to friends and perhaps donate some to the Master Gardeners plant sale next year. This is, literally, the home grown method of maintaining genetic diverse and useful plant varieties.

Snow in the Garden

We have snow again which is perhaps more discouraging for the gardener than the plants. The plants are determined to grow. Perennials are pushing up through the winter mulches. Young salad plants are thriving in the greenhouse. And the buds on the plums are plump and almost ready to pop. The energy of the plants is a welcome contrast to the grayness of the sky.

The sweetpeas seed is huddled in the cold ground. Sweetpeas can handle cold soil, so I expect they will be up soon. Not quite all the sweetpea seed is planted. The Seattle PI ran an article on sweetpea culture. At the end of the article, Renee of Renees garden seeds recommended ‘April in Paris’ as the most fragrant variety. The statement caused a run on ‘April in Paris’ seed. Like so many others, I hurried to the nursery to buy this fragrant wonder. The well stocked seed rack had a gaping hole where the seed packets had been. I was assured by the nursery staff that they had reordered the seed. Sure enough, a week later, I received the call that my treasured seed packet was in. Before I could get there to pick it up, a friend gave me a pill bottle with a dozen ‘April in Paris’ seeds. Once I pick up the seed packet, I’ll have more than I need. I’ll just have to hand the seeds out to other friends in need of a fragrant sweet pea, cream colored with a lavender trim to the petals. Really, this is a plant will transform the neighborhood!

Plants in pots

Most gardeners have an area in their yards that they call a ‘nursery’ area, that sounds so much better than ‘scratch and dent’. But the word ‘nursery’ is probably too nuturing a word for these areas. These places are where you stick the plants that you don’t know what to do with. These are the, “I really shouldn’t have bought this,” plants. The cistus that languishes in the pot because you finally figured out that they will become big and sprawly and you really wanted the more compact and brighter green one. The landscape trees that you bought on sale, at the season’s end then realized you had no good place for a 100 foot tall tree. Don’t even ask how far the lower branches will spread. Yes, I have a ‘nursery‘ area.

Yesterday we began to find places for the unwanted plants. We negotiated the placement of the trees, balancing the need for horse pasture and horse riding space with the need for roots and branches to spread. We finally came up with a plan for the rambling wisteria. We planted the rescued rel japanese maple, now that it looks like it will survive.

The nursery area isn’t gone, but it is greatly reduced in size. And that’s a good thing because I am going to the Northwest flower show tomorrow – with a car. I know there will be a blueberry, or a clematis, a gorgeous peony or a golden raspberry that will need a home in my garden. I promise, the new plats will stay in the nursery row for a few weeks – max.

Garden Catalogues

I have been neglectful of this blog, my web child. Life has been rather overwhelmingly chaotic with winter storms and snows and holidays. The everyday care of the live animals and plants took precedent over writing about them. But now the snows have melted, plants are recovering from being frozen, and there are new lettuce sprouts in the greenhouse. I’ll be back tomorrow to write more. Right now I have a large pile of garden cataloges to read. Aren’t all the new Echinaceas lovely?

Fjord Horses and Snow

We have snow, lots of snow. Schools are closed. The roads are almost deserted and the few hardy souls venturing out are driving slowly and carefully down our hill. If I see that someone has gotten stuck in the ditch, it will be a temptation to harness up the Norwegian fjord horse, trot him out to the road, and offer to pull the car out of the ditch. I can imagine my neighbors looking concerned at this offer. Looking worriedly at the horse standing there stamping his feet and exhaling icy clouds of horse breath while the bells on his harness jingle with his every move. And probably they would be right to think that AAA would be a better way to rescue their car. The fjord horse loves to pull. He throws his weight into the harness and is determined to move whatever is behind him. Sometimes he enjoys pulling so much, he keeps going. The first time we hitched him to a log he was so happy he pulled it halfway across the garden and fetched up in the middle of the blueberry patch. But I don’t know if he could pull hard enough to liberate a SUV that has snowplowed into a ditch. Maybe it would be best to leave him watching from the field. After all I could always fire up the tractor. I bet the John Deere could take on any car stuck in the ditch!