juneSCENE IN OUR GARDEN: May 2014

Sign, Sunset, Shed

My husband fashioned this sign out of a longer one...

cutting it into three pieces, drilling holes, and connecting with wire.

I couldn't be happier with it!

Around the corner from the rustic fence piece....these daisies.

And on the other side of the house,

columbine.

In the garage, a garage sale find (below)

awaits placement on the shed.

It's been SUCH a beautiful day,

culminating in a spectacularly simple sunset this evening.

With the dawn of Friday morning--the hanging of the garage sale find.
And 1/3 cup of Epsom salts is worked into the soil
around the roots of this old rose bush followed by a generous watering.
Maybe a little late, but I recall it resulted in some fine blooms a year or two ago...

We're off to a great start today!

Iris Delight

Slow and Steady

So far, our forays into our yard and garden have been limited

due to medical issues.

Today however, weather was near-perfect,

and a friend came with shovel and empty containers

to divide several of our perennials for planting in her yard.

It was the perfect excuse to get out and place a few pieces

of yard art!

It felt SO good!

And while I was at it, I pulled quite a few weeds.

The piles will dry, and I'll pick them up to discard tomorrow.

Slow and steady wins the race!

And how about these iris?!?

Can Anyone Help Me?

I took my new hip out for a spin yesterday.

I was thrilled to find so many plants faring so well

with so little "interference" from us this spring!

Actually, I'd forgotten the colors I could expect!

(I think of our flower beds in general, perennial shades of green.)

I am pleasantly surprised!

Can anyone help me with the identity of the yellow to the right of this photo?

I suspect it to be a weed, but don't want to yank it until I'm certain.

I've yanked before and lost a few additions I'd forgotten I made in a previous season.

I HATE it when I do that.

Current Favorites...

Hands-down favorites (currently)!

Clustered, casual, and colorful.

Hard not to like.

Spring: Up Close & Personal

Ignorance is NOT Bliss

With just a few more hours of sunshine, the tree above

will be glorious in its spring beauty!

Our large lilac bush is fighting back valiantly

from its hasty and unprofessional pruning.

(Every year, I tell myself we're going to learn to do it correctly.

Every year, we don't.)

Still, what's not to love?

Above, one of three viburnum bushes deals with the same

distress as the lilac bush...

while the bleeding heart thrives on the ignorance of its gardeners...

Ignorance is NOT bliss,

but sometimes it's close to it.

May Day Minus Flowers

May Day minus flowers.

Rather, our morning walk took us out to the back

to view the neat pile of wood harvested from a recent limb-removal.

I transplanted a small twig of forsythia a couple of years ago (I think).

I had hoped for more vigorous growth but haven't really done anything to encourage it...

so (below) this is what we have as of today.

In a few days, our lilac bush and flowering cherry tree will be in full bloom.

Photos to come!
Meanwhile, here are a few views from our side yard.
Survivors--all of them!

I am enjoying visiting gardening blogs more than ever

since our own efforts have been temporarily suspended.

I'm thankful for a hard-working niece who will be handling the basic outdoor chores.

She's hardworking and thorough AND willing to do a few extras, too.

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)