Busy December

Every season has its busyness, but holiday preparing and plans always seem to compound it for December. The garden waits quietly for me- I still spend some time on it but it moves far down the task list this month.
This season there are different birds in the garden, and it can be fun to have feeders in order to watch them more closely. for some birds, especially later in the winter, feeding stations provided by their human friends can make a difference in their welfare.

I have been creating the Advent Blog Calender posts, but will continue posting here (on a slower basis than most months). There is a great deal going on in the gardening world.


For now:


I partnered with a company that supplies products for this, and they have some special offers running that might be useful to you readers.

From Birdfeeders.com
20% Off Our Lifestyle Bird Feeders - Use Coupon Code WBLF10
Garden Song Garden Ballet Large Hummingbird Feeder Mobile - Clearance (70% Off)

There's more to this post :)
One of the best ways to welcome winter birds is to provide habitat,seeds, and berries in the garden through chosen plantings. There are many beautiful trees, shrubs and perennials that feed the winter birds... here are a few to put on your list for next years garden plans, if you don't already have them:
Wild Ones lists many more. Visit their page.

Shelter Trees-

* Eastern Red Cedar (Juniperus virginia), primarily southern Wisconsin
* Eastern Arborvitae or White Cedar (Thuja occidentalis), primarily northern and eastern Wisconsin
* White Spruce (Picea glauca), primarily northern Wisconsin
* Eastern Hemlock (Tsuga canadensis), primarily northern and central Wisconsin

Winter Fruit-

* Hackberry (Celtis occidentalis), primarily southern Wisconsin - 24 species eat the fruit; particularly liked by Northern Flicker, Northern Mockingbird, Swainson's Thrush and Northern Cardinal.
* Eastern Red Cedar (Juniperus virginiana), primarily southern Wisconsin - 54 species have been noted eating the fruit, including Cedar Waxwing, Northern Mockingbird, Brown Thrasher, and Gray Catbird.
* Hawthorns : Cockspur Hawthorn (Crataegus crus-galli) , southeastern Wisconsin; Downy Hawthorn (C. mollis) and Dotted Hawthorn (C. punctata) - Hawthorns can attract more than 20 species and are especially favored by Cedar Waxwing, Fox Sparrow and Ruffed Grouse. Also, they offer great cover and protection for nesting, due to their thorns.

Winter Berries-

* Winterberry, (Ilex verticillata ) - Fruits eaten by songbirds, winter waterfowl, and upland game birds.

Sumacs (Rhus spp.):

* Smooth Sumac (R. glabra) - At least 3l species eat the fruits, especially the Gray Catbird, Wood Thrush,and Eastern Bluebird.
* Staghorn Sumac (R.. hirta; typhina) - 21 species eat the fruit , including Red-eyed Vireo and American Robin.

Roses (Rosa spp.). Get native species that don't need pesticides and fertilizers:

* Swamp Rose (R. palustris) - Its rose hips are eaten by at least 20 species and are preferred by Swainson's Thrush and Cedar Waxwing.
* Pasture Rose (R. carolina)
* Meadow Rose (R. blanda)
* Prairie Wild Rose (R. arkansana) - At least 38 species feed on its hips, including Northern Cardinal and Brown Thrasher.

...much more info for year-round is included on their page.


You might like to visit my past, viburnums and Dent de Lion among other topics.

poem "gratitude"

for the gift of a long and adventurous life
and the wisdom learned with each mistake.
for the gift of my son, as he onward makes
his way, finds love,and his future wife.

for the gift of health, despite aches and pains.
the body's wear and tear effects
are worse from years of some neglect.
yet i've made it through, with much to gain.
for happiness in these later years
for joy and laughter, and the tears.
for hearth and home, for sun and rain.

for gardens made, and those to come.
for companionship, good friends and love
for all these blessings from above....
for a life well-lived and the harvest home.


best thanksgiving blessings to all...

vty, j-lea

Mid November Garden Photos

Here are some photos in a plain collage, the only common feature is that they are from my garden and taken after frosts have visited. Now, fun question. Can you guess what the golden leaved shrub is called,(pictured in the top middle and top left photos)? The reason I wonder is [hint] because so often it is censured as "dull" and without much seasonal interest.

Well, now that I have photographic proof, I beg to differ.


That shrub is a Syringa vulgaris, believe it or not. Although many of my lilacs are not as brightly colored in fall as this one - it still proves that they can deliver some fall color, and pruned well, they are something of a feature...besides their incomparable fragrance and fine spring flowers. there. I am now uncloseted, a veritable lilac lover.

Top right the globe arborvitaes are seen through a veil of twisted Harry Lauder's Walking Stick branches, Corylus avellana ‘Contorta', with a sprig of lunaria seed, Moneyplant.

Middle left is the diehard survivor, Nepeta mussinii, living close to the ground with its soft lavender bloom. I unmercifully sliced off all its brethren's heads for winter. Call me Queen of Hearts.

Middle middle is my self seeded calendula. This is what they look like if self seeded, not the full petaled pastel confections of the hybrids. I also have bright orange in the same form, semi-double. They seem to come alive after frosts, but I remember how unpleasant it is to have to pull their carcasses from the frozen ground at the turn of the year. And so, force myself to pull them earlier, while they still are giving last gasps of color to my garden. Isn't this Pot marigold pretty? I've never tried the petals in stews, but my Kitchen garden book says they were commonly used in Medieval English cookery.


The far right middle is the tardy fall color of the weeping willow, Salix babylonica. She sings "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina" to the wind as she only now loses her leaves while they turn a final gold-yellow.

Now I will have to run the leaf vacuum again since she is singing the finale of the season with the sweet gum nearby. All the other trees have packed up and taken sabbatical for the winter.The photo angle catches the Annabelle and sedum flower heads.

Hidden in the Dawn viburnum, I had no idea this bird's nest was here...almost at eye level for me. Bursts of sparrows from my pyracantha every time I walk nearby leave no doubts about their whereabouts, however. Bottom left.

Bottom middle, is the spray of yellow leaves from the kerria japonica. I have the single blossom type, which I prefer. It has bright green stems all winter.

Bottom right, the sweet gum still bright and actually turning kaleidoscope variations of red, orange, purple. A Harlequin that holds leaves for an absurdly long time.



I don't write poetry very often... it takes decades to pry one out of me that I think is half decent in relaying my feeling in something that I also consider art. However I did write one that I posted back in January. Winter's Meeting.

Joanne is the resident bard... and I thought maybe she would like to read it.

Technorati Tags: November color,

I Think I Will Try That

I have found a new favorite blog! I always did like to color with Crayons

clipped from carolinescrayons.blogspot.com

Lawn Politics

I'm sorry, I sort of had to laugh when reading an exchange between two garden writers. Not sure what social media form it was, but one let slip the admiration for a lawn. The silent gasp was almost audible from the other, though it was rather polite, and the first gardenperson was not quite, but almost apologetic in the defense of a bit of lawn.

I'd rather the garden gets religion than political savvy. But having my druthers I guess I want what "Punk Rock Garden" voiced, a little peace and love in the garden.

While I am not a great lover of lawns, particularly those which spread themselves across acres and acres of suburbia, I do have a defense of sorts for good use of a lawn in a landscape.

If you are too closeminded on the subject to read on, that is ok... we can live together, but perhaps even you, too, can learn to love a lawn if it is the right type in the right place.

I suppose the first thing I have to tell everyone is that my definition of a lawn is not everyone elses. Mine comes from the green spaces I was familiar with as a child in Ohio. We have plenty of rain here, first of all. And the old style lawn that I remember had plenty of clover in it, mown with a hand and bicep driven mower. There were lots of bees that enjoyed it for forage as I can attest by the large number of bee stings I managed to suffer each year.

And that brings me to one top reason to have some lawn in a yard: it is great for a play space for children, for a picnic spread, or a blanket in the sun. If you live in spring mud-heaven conditions like I do now, a grass lawn is one of the best ways to traverse from here to there without picking up huge clods of sticky mud on footwear.

It is cooling, and wears well with foot traffic. It can look serene and beautiful in a special place carved out for it. And if resisting the seduction of lawn care specialists with their many sprays and portrayals of velvet green "turf", a lawn can be eco-friendly. Here in Ohio clover keeps things green when the grasses go dormant in late summer, their nitrogen producing nodes help to feed the grasses, and the mulching mowers which leave clippings small and in situ create a sustainable cycle.

And one of the things about gardens, let's face it, is that it is not natural. We create and maintain our spaces... which is half the reason there is so much to learn in the gardening endeavor.

I just think if someone wants a little lawn let them have it.

And let's give ourselves to educating and encouraging each other to do all the things we do in our husbanding of the earth with wisdom. It goes without saying that we are all on a journey of learning how to do things well and in benefit of ourselves, and our environment. Politics has little to do with that, in the final analysis. Politics was always better at bullying than at nurturing, and it is time we say so.

So I'm with Punk Rock Garden, let's have a little more peace and love. Bring the Flower Child out to play in the garden.

Technorati Tags: lawns,

More November Retrospects

This is the Gardener's Year in Review...probably the one thing in which we gardening enthusiasts are a step ahead of the rest of the world: review the year in November.

I spoke already of some of the successes and failures of 2009, but I have some other things to add. This blog has become a memory bank of sorts, like any proper journal ought to, and I often look back into my posts to see the names of plants I bought and when. I keep intending to make a hard copy journal, but from the time I was twelve, with all the little girl diary motivations, I have never been true to that commitment of writing in a journal. Until the online world emerged...but I am digressing...

This year saw two new additions to my garden: the greenhouse, and a rain barrel. Both of which I have wanted for years and years. Now that I have them I am trying to integrate them into my old dog gardener ways. The rain barrel caused a bit of disagreement between me and my husband.

[oops- don't know why that published- read on for "the rest of the story"]


I want to use the rain barrel for wintertime water in the greenhouse... he is grousing about not putting the rain barrel away for the winter: "If it freezes and cracks, I am not going to buy another one".
the green house stays pretty warm over the winter... not warm enough for tropicals, but with my idea of insulating the bottom area with straw bales around the outside, it seems it could weather Ohio's worst.

So we came to a compromise of sorts. I agree to drain it out if the thermometer registers a single digit threat, with the additional parting growl of "... but you are responsible for taking care of it, I'm not going to check your greenhouse for you".

And so it is.

Now, I need to buy that straw.

I cleared out a weedy patch from part of the bed that I let go wild with Charles de Mills Gallica roses and volunteer asters. The asters showered me with their tiny feathery seeds, and Charles prickled right through my leather garden gloves to register his displeasure. I used some of the free mulch to give a cloak of civility to the wild bed for winter's sake.

This same bed holds the contorted hazel, which once divested of the underbrush of asters and rose canes showed it once again needed some watersprouts pruned out. So I obliged. I saved the straight canes in a place beside the green house where my imagination has me weaving some twiggy supports during winter weekends sheltered in my cozy greenhouse. We'll see. (I have come to use that phrase much when at the start of my mind's eye of new ventures).

I sawed off a large branch from the fringe tree to give it more of a tree form than the wide spreading, half shrub shape it often takes. I cut larger branches with some trepidation that somehow I might be maiming it for posterity, but it looked better to my eye, so no harm done.

A few leftover daylilies were tucked in, while I saved the major pruning to the old lilac for another day.

Today the soft rains came.

And so it goes - my soul finally feeling rest that my most pressing work was done, a few extra improvements made, and a look forward to what is possibly one my favorite pastimes: garden planning for the next year.

I have a few pictures yet to share with you, my dear readers, and tucked into the back pocket of my mind are rural ruminations, although I need a good camera day for pictures to partner with the thoughts. Til then, friends- peace and contentment along with a grateful spirit.

fire in the sky

it has been clear and sunny for the last several days here in georgia. i knew that
the Leonid meteor shower was one of the best sky shows of the year. at 10 pm,
the sky was cloudless, and i was determined to get up and sit in the yard
to watch the eastern sky before dawn. i am very lucky to have a good sky, here
on the farm, for viewing the moon and stars....over the broad eastern pastures,
and to the south there is perfect darkness. the air was pleasantly chilly.
although often at this time of year, one can get too shivery to endure the wait.
my quilt and fuzzy slippers did me fine; the dogs were good company.

at 4 AM the sky was streaked with bluish light. most were quick and short, but
every so often there would be a long trail. the beauty of the bright firmament above
held me in a trance. i felt one with everything in the universe...nourishing my soul.
by 5:30, they had become infrequent-less visible- as morning came to pull me
away from such timeless union, and back to the body's wants and needs. i returned to
my world, built a morning fire and made coffee. i am still contemplating this
"enlightenment"experience, and so i wrote this sonnet.
i hope you got to enjoy the show!
vty, j-lea

- Meteors -

awake before the dawning light
i hurry out into the night.
the moon is down, the heavens glow
with shooting stars; from here below,
it seems they dance the sky so free
and something stirs inside of me,
that sings in stellar harmony.

bright streaking sparks of distant fire
are said to grant your hearts desire.
my soul embraces beauty's flight,
content to sit in silent night
a witness to this holy light.

Season's End

End of November will mean the final end of my growing season. There have been years I plant and do garden work in December and January, but it is a bit of madness really... and I don't see that in my future at this point. So the end of my garden season, it is.

I'm cleaning up around the yard, and I pushed to plant the final fifty tulip bulbs. Turned out to be more difficult than I pictured. Not that this is unusual. The mind has a way of viewing physical work as a logical sequence of time slotted tasks which the actual working out, with sweat equity, makes a mockery. When you are both the white collar and blue collar worker of your garden you get that rare taste of the basic conflict between an ivory tower and the "digger of the moat". I remember the sharp lesson one July. I had assigned a task of digging out an area of the driveway island for a small bed to a couple of my sons. It was typical Midwestern high summer weather- hot and drippingly humid. They weren't making good progress, so I pulled on the garden gloves to assist. Wow, what a wake-up call. The mind's picture that it was a small bed only so by so, with several strong workers on task, all melted in pouring perspiration, and nasty thoughts about the small gravel that made the digging particularly onerous. I sent said workers inside for a respite (along with myself), and never forgot that lesson: what I imagined was a relatively easy task, when complicated by real world conditions, required much more effort than was allotted for in the mental plan. Moat digger to Ivory tower,"Are you nuts?"

The picture above is of that driveway bed as of today. It holds a young 'Prairie Fire' crabapple tree, fronted by Annabelle hydrangea, backed by what Coreopsis verticillata looks like in mid November, variegated sedum, some lambs ears, and goldflame spirea which has lost its lovely apricot autumn leaf. I really should work on this garden some more... next year. A brick edging maybe.

If you are in the mood for more ruminations on the end of the season and how my garden grew... read on, as they say....


I wanted to wedge that moral lesson in up front... before I amble on about how melancholy this time of year tends to make me. It isn't the change of season or the gray brown colors. I am one of those people who usually likes stormy weather, winter scenes, and quiet evenings at home. But I think it is the solemn comparison of the high hopes of Spring with the reality of work done, and season accomplishment that dampens my spirits far more than any November clouds or precipitation.

This year we had a wonderful Indian Summer. I wasted much of it inside, but that is par for the course in how I do things... nevertheless I didn't waste all of it, and what I enjoyed was delicious.

There is something very correcting in the natural balance of my garden in early spring and late fall. It looks neat, and groomed, with newly weeded and dug garden beds, edged verges, mown lawn, and pruned plants. Mulch covers a multitude of sins, blanketing with a semblance of homogeneous brown. My eye looks over the garden and I am not just satisfied like some outdoor hausfrau, but inspired to dream of future artistry. As if I have cleaned the palette, and primed the canvas for yet another work of art...next season.

Yet, I am melancholy. Nagging thoughts of my waning energies, and the knowledge that we have no promises of tomorrow are likely reminders contributing to that. My backward look over the season is marked with some thoughts of the failures: tomatoes did not do well, that front perennial bed was not renovated, weeds had gotten into the driveway bed and needed much more time to remove. It was a banner year for bindweed.

Awkwardly, I force myself to see what was accomplished and enjoyed. I have some cleared and renewed plantings in the gardens nearest the house. Exciting things like the Jack Frost Brunnera, and the second year of the Caramel Heuchera have been growing well. Finally, renewing of tulip beds, with some fresh Holland grown tulips (always best in their first year here)guarantee to brighten my coming April in 2010. The bushes around the drive island all well pruned, much poison ivy vanquished, vegetable gardens brought back into production, a giant pile of free mulch, trees professionally pruned this year, winning parts of the garden back from forced neglect of past years.

My garden is my own.

I think I am finally coming to terms and accepting that, in both actual gardening and life. A personal garden, fitting in with many other demands and obligations; there...because I want it there. And that is as good a lesson as any to meditate on, to ameliorate the melancholy... and allow it to mellow to a settled contentment of mind.

Finally, the November frosts and rains mellow things, don't they? What's past melts into the ground and waits... there is a seed within it. What future joys and life are in that seed? It is the gardener's good pleasure to see in the next season. And there is a lot of hope in that.

Weekend Reading

Remember corduroy roads from history class?
Tree Notes gives a fascinating look at the history of wooden road surfaces.


Lovely winter containers?
Seasonal wisdom gets Kerry Michaels favorites. With pictures.

A Look at all that rain in the Queen of Seaford's garden.

Thoughts on Wabi-sabi by Bloomingwriter.

I love the pictures I love the thought of this sort of meadow garden.



The American Meadow Garden: Creating a Natural Alternative to the Traditional Lawn available on Amazon.

We Have History Together

...but that isn't really what this is about...not our history, Joanne, but some links to gardenhistory girl's posts and old pictures of Japanese dish gardens, and bonsai.
Enjoy. I immediately thought of you and your work with bonsai when I saw these.
Post one, 'Japanese Dish Gardens', and some nice images from somewhere in rare book image collections...in which I can easily lose myself for hours....

Love this stuff, so thanks, Arcady, we appreciate your blog.

Never enough time...

But we make time for those things we want to. Just sometimes it is response to others applying pressure and all we want is to get that feeling of pressure off! Well, today let's just buck that trend, shall we? Do you need to take a little time to savor life today? Here are some of my photos and some links I thought were very worthwhile reading lately.

Assorted and asundry photos that for some reason didn't get posted.





This is what endless summer looks like in fall. It had the loveliest shabby rose colored blooms.



These are my neighbors who own Yonies Greenhaus. I try to buy as many of my flowers from them as I can. They just started up in the last few years, and have excellent plant material, grown with earth friendly means. I learned of the use of neem oil while listening in on their conversations with another customer. (I'm snoopy like that, if I'm not in a hurry). They are the BEST neighbors and really wonderful growers. Worth taking the time to find, not far from the Der Dutchman restaurant. I'll post more on the next growing season.



I might have already posted one view of this. I liked these containers ( two matching ones. They were pretty all through the season. I cut back hard after this photo- and the plants rewarded me, but no pictures. I was off to other vistas with the camera. The planter is a bit ...ahem...rustic since I used these for my daughter's wedding flower arrangements and had stuck duct tape on to secure them to a stand, which was then covered over with Spanish moss. They were so lovely :) But when I pulled off the duct tape... oops, no paint, just the resin base. I keep meaning to touch it up, but you know how that goes...


An offspring from the old "Fairy" mix of Shirley poppies I scattered through the garden so long ago. Brushed with the bronze fennel foliage.



A portrait of my porch begonias this year.




An orchid in my living room. So far it is still growing.

Some worthwhile links for today:

Do You Remember Crockett's Victory Garden?

Little Country Graveyard

As Simple As A Windowsill...

Gardening with Grace

Kiss the Summer Flowers Goodbye with LonaDawn

John's Choice Flowers

My Father's Chrysanthemums

Cool Things

"Chapter 2: We'll have fun, fun, fun 'til our daddy takes the clay away"
Check out Teresa's doings, I'd categorize this under "Things I'd like to Be Doing"

clipped from homesteadnotes.blogspot.com

Some Thoughts

I've been online a while writing garden articles, first in my geocities free website (which is no more- although it is on the "wayback machine"). One of the early fellow garden writers I had enjoyed was Turning Earth. Do any of you know her through her site? Today I came across a reference to those early days,here:

'Bloom where you are planted'
"I first saw these words on Ilona's garden site. In the midst of a thousand bits of advice we read about how to be happy, successful, discover the meaning of life, these words seemed to me some of the most profound. It's a nice garden-related metaphor, but of course applies to all of us, everywhere.

The web has enabled many of us to create our own small corners where we can "bloom", whether our websites are about gardens or something else entirely."

Do you know why I wanted to mention that? Because for me, to influence someone, in however small a way, to encourage or affirm , or inspire, is a great honor. To be a part of someone's life in that way is just such a privilege. And like Lisa says, the web has offered many of us just such opportunities to connect like that. And in some ways, it comes back around, because she reminded me once more of the wisdom of that saying. I had to reconsider whether I had drifted from it into discontent and confused vision. I had originally written about that in a page now adapted for the php page it is on, an early description of this very Midwest garden I had begun, and now write about and photograph so much in this blog.

Turning Earth has remained in my bookmarks through computer crashes and virus meltdowns, and through lost bookmarks from old Netscape browser updates (now that dates me if nothing else does). Her photographs have always been excellent and her writing is evocative and top notch in my estimation.

Turning Earth was very influential upon me in terms of what I liked in a garden website. Blogging has changed my ability to create what I would like, in that it is a form of coding that I have not mastered. It is easier and more prolific to use, but I have less ability to manipulate it in terms of design. Sometimes I think about returning to the html format on my website, where I still have many of the older pages updated. But the blog platforms really simplify the ability to have writing output unencumbered by writing all that coding!

I still admire Lisa's ability to make things artful and keep them simple at the same time. She has depth to her gardening, in experience and as a true plantswoman - which is not true of every one who writes about gardening. I love the glimpses into her garden and projects.

I suppose this is very boring to most you, sorry. Just thoughts after revisiting Lisa's site and smitten with the fact that she had something so nice to say with a link to my site.

"Make new friends, but keep the old; One is silver, and the other gold". Certainly, my friendship with Joanne has proven the truth of that old ditty (from Girls Scout days!!! If I go back much further I might disappear :)

The painting: Tomorrow by Edward Raymes.

Seeded Earth

Do visit this blog- the photos are amazing , ranging from the profoundly beautiful to the witty. Thoroughly enjoyed the look-see I took. Advise you do the same

clipped from www.seededearth.com Whooping It Up!

Autumn Snapshots

Viburnum Carlesii

Photo of V.carlesii taken for the profile article I wrote.

I'm glad to have found some kindred spirits. Not sure what we would call our tribe, but glad to have ways that I and my fellow beings resonate.

I guess it is time for some pictures. I missed capturing the exceptional colors of the sweet cherry tree when in its full glory, so you will have to take my word for it, but traveled around the yard last week... and here are some of those photos.

This year the colors came in waves- much better than usual, but I caught them on camera early -with green still showing.



Found this creepy spider inside the bird feeder.




The Cornus Kousa leaves and abandoned raking.



Pretty poison ivy growing in a weed domain, which we have since worked to clear out.



Proof that work gets done around here.



More proof.



Colors of the tamarisk tree.




I found a neighborhood cache and collected some hedge apples.





The black eye of the Susan.




The sweet cherry tree actually deepened in color before the leaves finally fell the other day. Here they are golden with the bark looking very black after the rain.



Costmary still flowering with its button blooms.