juneSCENE IN OUR GARDEN: Too Hot to Handle

Too Hot to Handle

Yesterday afternoon, in spite of the heat and humidity, I deadheaded the rose bushes.

Looks like more of the same weather for today.

It's going to be "too hot to handle" the tools, I think...

On a quick morning survey of The Beds, I notice the lilies are about to break open...

the clematis are breath-takingly beautiful...

the hosta are flowering...

and so are the weeds growing under other hosta plants!

I just don't have the heart to uproot them now

when their blue & yellow flowers look so cheerful.

The wooden cardinal remains steadfast at his lookout post
no matter WHAT the weather.

"Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it."
-- Russell Baker

9 comments:

GonSSJune 22, 2011 at 6:26 AM
That clematis is amazing.
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tinaJune 22, 2011 at 8:15 AM
Your garden is looking so pretty. Has there been rain at your place? Lovely lovely rain here. It sure makes the weeds grow. I too have that blue one (Asiatic daylily) and I tell you no matter how pretty it is it comes out because all those seeds-oh my. I made the mistake of actually spreading the seeds around last fall. You'd think I would know better. lol
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RebeccaJune 22, 2011 at 8:30 AM
Tina, I looked up Asiatic daylily and am not sure that is what THIS is...Mine is more "viney" (unless I didn't find the Asiatic daylily you refer to....)
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MariJune 22, 2011 at 3:46 PM
Your flowers are so pretty! I'm jealous of the clematis. We've tried to grow a couple of them and can't keep them alive!
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Leaon MaryJune 24, 2011 at 6:25 AM
Rebecca your flowers are beautiful. I have the same Clematis plant that you do and have enjoyed it so much. It's such a true purple isn't it?

You said you didn't want to weed under the hostas and yesterday I spent most of the day weeding and working in my garden. I found that as I pulled weeds that were close to my plants, the dirt would try to uproot the things I wanted to keep and stay. So.... my weeds are gonna have to stay for awhile too. As the weather continues to steam up for the rest of summer now I usually back off and just let it all happen. My garden usually gets taken over with morning glories but... I like that.
I love the little pot you have hanging on your fence, and tell that redbird "hullo" from me!!!
Holykisses xoxo
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Leaon MaryJune 24, 2011 at 6:27 AM
Hey Rebecca,
Isn't there a bible verse about weeding and uprooting? I keep thinking there is but can't remember where it is.... I kept thinking about it yesterday when I accidentally uprooted a zinnia plant by pulling grass that was growing too close to it.
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RebeccaJune 24, 2011 at 9:50 AM
Yes - Jesus said to let the tares grow with the wheat or something like that. At harvest time (end of the world) they would be separated.
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CanadianGardenJoyJune 25, 2011 at 1:01 PM
Rebecca I have meant to drop by so often and it has taken me this long to follow through (red faced ;-) .. You have such pretty plants and that clematis is stunning! It is such a beautiful blue!
What cultivar is it ? .. I would love to have it in my garden : ) .. ah yes .. what a perfect quote for how summer entices and punishes us at the same time .. Oh how I hate that heat and humidity too! But .. we love our gardens don't we !
Joy : )
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MoJuly 2, 2011 at 8:06 AM
For those that garden, gloves and snippers are VERY important. My best gardening days include sharp snippers and pretty gloves. With no holes.
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To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly; to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with open heart; to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never. In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common. This is to be my symphony. William Henry Channing 1810-1884

Irises come in many forms, shapes, colors and sizes and the sword-like foliage is attractive when the plant is not in bloom. The genus Iris is a large genus of bulbous and rhizomatous perennials.

The Iris was named after the goddess of the rainbow because of its many colors.
A flower on the Sphinx is considered to be an Iris, and another appears on a bas-relief of the 18th Egyptian dynasty.
Pliny also knew the Iris and praised its medicinal virtues.
The Iris was also a favourite flower of the Moslems, who took it to Spain after their conquest in the 8th century.

Bought at a local plant sale, Spring of 2009 Feverfew (Tanacetum parthenium; syn. Chrysanthemum parthenium (L.) Pers., Pyrethrum parthenium Sm.) is a traditional medicinal herb which is found in many old gardens, and is also occasionally grown for ornament. The plant grows into a small bush up to around 18 inches high, with citrus-scented leaves and is covered by flowers reminiscent of daisies. It spreads rapidly, and they will cover a wide area after a few years. It is also commonly seen in the literature by its synonyms, Chrysanthemum parthenium (L.) Bernh. and Pyrethrum parthenium (L.) Sm.

I'D PICK MORE DAISIES
If I could live my life again
I'd be a little lazy
I'd stop this rushing to and fro
And stop and pick more daisies
Through all the lovely summer months
Though days be clear or hazy
No more to fret over tasks undone,
I'd stop to pick a daisy
Not so important what I did
This fact time now discloses
While running through life's garden green
I'd stop to smell the roses
If I could hold my little ones
The children in my care
I'd scold them less and love them more
With so much love to share
If I could pass this way again
Though folks might think I'm crazy
I'd work and worry less, but I'd
Take time to pick a daisy
The rush of life has passed me by
Now I have leisure hours
But time has taken such a toll
It's too late to pick the flowers.

Mildred F. Rowe

MEASURE YOUR HEALTH...by your sympathy with morning and spring. If there is no response in you to the awakening of nature, if the prospect of an early morning walk does not banish sleep, if the warble of the first bluebird does not thrill you--know that the morning and the spring of your life are past. Thus may you feel your pulse. (Thoreau)

"God writes the gospel not in the Bible alone, but on the trees and flowers and clouds and stars." (Martin Luther)

"To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends. To appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded." (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

The soul of a child is the loveliest flower
That grows in the garden of God
It's climb is from weakness to knowledge and power,
To the sky from the clay to the clod.
To beauty and sweetness it grows under care
Neglected, 'tis ragged and wild.
'Tis a plant that is tender, but wondrously rare,
The sweet wistfull soul of a child.

Be tender, O Gardener, and give it it's share
Of moisture, of warmth and of light,
And let it not lack for th painstaking care
To protect it from frost and from blight.
A glad day will come when it's bloom shall unfold,
It will seem that an angel has smiled,
Reflecting a beauty and sweetness untold
In the sensitive soul of a child.

...Author Unknown

Thy Word is like a garden, Lord,
With flowers bright and fair;
And every one who seeks may pluck
A lovely cluster there.
Thy Word is like a deep, deep mine,
And jewels rich and rare
Are hidden in its mighty depths
For every searcher there.

Thy Word is like a starry host:
A thousand rays of light
Are seen to guard the traveler,
And make his pathway bright.
Thy Word is like an armory,
Where soldiers may repair,
And find, for life's long battle-day,
All needful weapons there.

Oh, may I love Thy precious Word,
May I explore the mine,
May I its fragrant flowers glen,
May light upon me shine!
Oh, may I find my armor there!
Thy Word my trusty sword,
I'll learn to fight with every foe
The battle of the Lord.

(Edwin Hodder, Thy Word Is Like a Garden, Lord)