Sunday, July 29, 2018
What? You interrupt my 'nip trip.
Yes, I'm on the table.
This is so wrong on many levels. You'd better get down.
Silly dog. I say ha ha to your admonition and turn my back.
I continue to ignore you in special effects.
Saturday, July 28, 2018
I looked around the other day and realized that I no longer has any Back-eyed Susans (when I once had too many) nor any Purple Coneflowers. Of course, I should have done this early in the season when I could buy smaller, cheaper plants, but I decided to get a few big ones and hope they spread.
The pollen dusted bee approves.
I also got some purple Speedwell, a pinkish-red salvia of some sort, and a pale coneflower, as well as some bee balm. All plants I've had in the past that are no longer with me. To garden is to know loss.
As I said, the bees approve.
The little area around the sundial seemed like a good place to plant my treasures. Layla agreed it needs some color.
What was there was some hardy Russian Sage, a little clump of dianthus, a few iris, and LOTS Thousand Acre Sedum, busily living up to its name. There was also Air Potato Vine, an invasive species from Africa/Asia (more about this awful weed HERE.)
There was a problem. The bed is composed of some dirt spread on a pile of rocks. There weren't many places when I could actually dig a deep hole.
Nevertheless, I persisted. It doesn't look like much with the plants spread about in the few spots I could dig and the sedum trodden down.
But with my gardener's eye, I see lush flowers spreading -- pink, and purple, white, yellow, and red. I see butterflies and humming birds visiting. Probably a heavenly choir is singing.
If nothing don't happen.
And I remember the quote: "A perennial is a plant that, had it lived, would have bloomed year after year."