The Creepy Garden

After exiling the foul-smelling arum dracunculus (of yesterday's post) to a suitably distant spot, I decided to make a "creepy" garden. Spurred on by the memory of a Charles Addams cartoon in which the elegantly creepy mother of the Addams family is writing to her absent husband, "The garden is at its best now --the dealy nightshade and belladonna are in bloom and the little toads have hatched." ( Or words to that effect -- it's been a very long time), I tried to think of plants that looked creepy or had creepy names. I tried toad lily, but it died. I planted every thing black or near-black, that I could find and also Crocosmia "Lucifer" and spiderwort.



The creepy garden is not yet a visual success -- things bloom at different times and there's no real focus. But I keep fiddling with it. I'm open to suggestions for additions -- this is very rich soil, mostly sunny all day.

The black pussy willow is a delight in spring -- but the rest of the summer it's just a nondescript shrub.

That's the problem: things come and go and there's never a moment when it all works as a garden. I think as things grow and multiply, if I can have bigger stands of each individual plant, it will have more ooomph. Till then, I'll just have to keep explaining it.


Picture of other plants in the creepy garden are here .

Got to Get Back to the Garden

At long last, perfect weather in the 70's made it imperative to get into the garden. Time for some dirt therapy! On Thursday John fired up the tiller and attacked the tiers . . .

while I cleared off and weeded the asparagus bed.

The end near the road wasn't too bad -- the horse radish is thriving . . .

but the majority of the bed was covered in mats of  ground ivy, aka Glechona hederacea , Gill-over-the-ground, Creeping Charlie, Alehoof, Tunfoot, Catsfoot, Field Balm, or Runaway Robin. Whatever you call it, it smells minty and is fairly easy to pull.

It's non-native, having been brought from Europe by early settle for its culinary and medicinal uses. Wikipedia has quite a list of these. I have never tried any of them.

I weeded carefully around some catnip plants -- and harvested some for the kittehs . . .

The finished bed -- not a thing of beauty -- except to me. Now if the asparagus would just begin to show itself. The ground is still pretty cool -- maybe these sunny days will get things moving.

On Friday I tidied up the Creepy Garden that's at the front end of the asparagus bed -- the Black Pussy Willow needs pruning . . .

The concept of the Creepy Garden was to have plants with black or near-black foliage. I have some deep purple tulips and irises, as well as some black liriope. Also there are plants there because of their names -- spider plant, Voodoo lily (Arum Dracunculus aka Dog dick plant.) 

And there's some stuff there just to provide a contrast.

Confederate violets are like weeds at this time of year. And I was happy to find a Columbine that my sister-in-law Fay gave me several years ago was thriving.

As are the Dog Dick plants --  which will be a trifecta of creepiness when they bloom: name, color(raw liver,) and fragrance (rotting meat.)

I got the black pussy willow tidied up  . . .

and moved on to the box beds -- John had weed-eaten and tilled four of the beds but the other four, with their perennial herbs, require hand weeding.

I made a start . . . but the beds at the far end and above the rock wall will have to wait  . . . Josie will be with me ton Saturday.  Soon, however, I'll get some seed sowed.

But the really good news for me is that, compared to last year at this time or even at the end of garden season -- I have a lot more stamina.  And, getting up from sitting on the ground, while still not pretty, is at least possible. Last year I was having to slither to the steps or a slope so I could get my feet downhill and attain verticality.  This year, I can kneel and then stand up!

Thankful for small victories!

Garden Walkabout

Between rain showers yesterday, I managed to get out in the yard and garden for a while.

I don't know the name of this little coral-colored rose but it's one of my favorites.










It's been there in the bed by the green house for about twenty years, at a guess and, if past years are any guide, will bloom from now till frost.






















There is a nice flush of shitakes on the inoculated logs -- I foresee another asparagus/shitake stir fry in our future.

The spiderwort is blooming in the creepy garden.

The banties are happy in their chicken tractor.

In the herb garden, the sage is blooming and fat bumble bees wiggle their way deep into the blossoms.

The box beds were full of weeds which have outdone themselves with all the rain. I filled a tub to take to the big chickens and threw a wad of crisp green chickweed to the banties -- along with assorted slugs, earthworms, and wood lice.

Across the road from the garden I spotted a clump of Blue-eyed Grass.

This tiny (the bloom is about the size of my little finger's nail) wild flower is a member of the iris family and though not exactly showy is utterly charming.

A lovely find on a day in late spring.

Earth Day 2016

 

 Every  day is Earth Day around here, especially in the Spring.

John did the tilling and I've been hand weeding the asparagus and my creepy garden, as well as pruning back the black pussy willow that was making too much shade.

There was enough asparagus to provide a gracious plenty for supper. 

And I had seeds to plant -- look at that nifty radish!

A young toad kept an eye on me to make sure I didn't forget the purple carrots . . .

And the asparagus takes a bow, topped with red bell pepper sauteed in butter and lemon juice and accompanied by potatoes with dill and chicken roasted with rosemary and lemon.

Love that first harvest!

Flowers Everywhere!

Gardenias on the porch

Spiderwort in the creepy garden

Roses on the arbor

Beard tongue by the roadside

and

Hydrangeas by the barn

Fay's Crocosmia

Fay, John's sister, gave us the start of the crocosmia Lucifer for my creepy garden many years ago and it has prospered. (I was going to say thriven but Spellcheck doesn't like that word. ) I love its elegant graduated blooms like tiny fireworks amidst the green blades.  I also love that it needs no attention at all.

                           

Arum Dracunculus

I'm a sucker for weird looking plants. Add a name like 'dracunculus' which means 'dragon' and I'm filling in the order blank.

The three innocent-looking bulbs were cheap (I now realize that means the plant self-propagates wildly) and I planted them near the entryway, the better to enjoy their exotic blooms. They did not disappoint -- chartreuse and deep purple buds unfurled into a vast spathe the color of raw liver. And the spadix - the pointy thing in the middle -- well, it was pretty impressive. The plant was immediately re-named, vividly and alliteratively, for a part of a dog's anatomy.

"What's that smell?" we said, when the sun hit the newly opened flowers. "The dogs must have brought home something dead."

We followed our noses to the arum dracunculus to discover the source of the awful odor. This plant (there are others) chooses to be pollinated by flies, rather than bees or butterflies, and so, rather than smelling like honey, it smells like carrion. (The bulb nursery I ordered it from didn't mention that part.)

My husband suggested gently that I get rid of the plant or at least move it away from the house -- far away. And that was the beginning of my Creepy Garden -- more on that tomorrow.

Among arum dracunculus's common names, I have discovered, are Voodoo Lily, Snake Lily, and Stink Lily. All quite good and descriptive. But it'll always be the Dog Dick plant to us.