Why do I garden?

The short answer is: because I have to. I can't stop myself from gardening.

Here's the long answer (you knew I wouldn't be able to keep it short):

Gardening is an act of defiance against a mechanized world that increasingly disassociates itself from nature. It's about nurturing life, plant, animal and human. It's about trying to compensate for the damage inflicted on our fragile, precious planet.

It's emotional therapy. Just wandering in the garden raises my spirits and heals my soul.

It's a connection to God, through the beauty of creation.

I can't paint, draw or sculpt, except in plants. The garden is my sculpture in a fourth dimension: time.

It's an act of faith in the future. Anyone who plants a tree is an optimist.

But more than anything else, I garden for the anticipation. Looking forward to something is always better than the reality of having that thing. With gardening there is always something for which to look forward. That's reason enough to go on living, even when I get old and frail.


This question was posed by Stuart as part of a Blotanical challenge. Click here to visit Blotanical.

This Was Supposed to Be a Thanksgiving Post...

but the grouping for the photo got ruined. I like to turn the Halloween jack o'lanterns around so that they just look like harvest pumpkins for Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, somebody had other ideas.Here's the prime suspect:Instead of dwelling on the injustice of squirrel depredations, I just added the pumpkins to the compost pile a little early. I guess I can't blame the little critters for trying to fatten up for the winter, even if the Squirrelhaven squirrels never have to worry about going hungry.
I feel a lot like the squirrels, enjoying the bounty of nature and never worrying about from where the next meal is coming. I try not to take such things for granted, knowing there are people around here who will be going hungry this winter. Before we dust off the Christmas decorations and hang up those lights, let's all take a moment to count our blessings and give thanks for them.
Happy Thanksgiving!

The Rose

I'm not a Rosarian. I've never even wanted to grow a single Rose. It's not that I don't like them. On the contrary, I find them beautiful, and I love their intoxicating perfume. But growing up, I watched my mother struggle to grow Hybrid Tea Roses in too much shade. Then, when I was a teenager, we moved to a lot in full sun, where I watched her battle blackspot, mildew and the dreaded Japanese Beetles, then cut back and mound soil over the Roses and crown each with those nasty plastic cones. I got turned off.

I was fortunate in that none of my houses had a Rose on the property. I never had to deal with all that hassle, not to mention the vicious thorns. I don't like spiny, painful plants. And besides, if I ever wanted to indulge in the Rose experience, I could always visit the ones at my mom's house. Currently, she has the David Austin Rose 'Sharifa Asma,' a tall red-orange one, and two climbers, 'William Baffin' and 'Zepherine Drouhin.' Plenty to get a Rose fix.
And then, early in the summer, it happened. My sweet little 8-year-old daughter came up to me and said, "Mom, I want one of those flowers like grandma has." She wanted a Rose. How could I stunt her burgeoning horticultural ambitions by denying her the plant she wanted? Not only would that be heartless, but I'd be a bad mother and a bad gardener. In the face of those big sad eyes and that pathetic, pleading look, all my resistance crumbled. I had to plant a Rose.
When it came time to decide on a Rose, I had already been inspired by two wonderful garden bloggers I met at Spring Fling in Austin, Dee of Red Dirt Ramblings, and Pam of Digging. Dee is a Rose person, and she did a series of posts on Roses, advocating the planting of tough, disease resistant shrub Roses, including a glowing recommendation for 'Carefree Beauty Rose.' In Pam's old garden, which I was privileged to visit, she had a 'Carefree Beauty' Rose. The decision was a no-brainer. I am now the proud owner of a very small, fragrant, disease resistant 'Carefree Beauty.' It is hardy to Zone 4, so I'm not going to give it any protection this winter in my Zone 5 garden. No cutting back. No mounding of dirt. And best of all, no stupid Rose cones.

This post has a triple inspiration: the Rose is the plant of the month at Gardening Gone Wild; Shady Gardener's suggestion of posting about garden bloggers who have been a source of inspiration this spring or summer (sorry it's a little late); and Katarina of Roses & Stuff has started a new Blooming Friday flower meme. This post manages to hit all three!

The Truth About Rozanne

(Geranium 'Rozanne' in July with Lobelia foliage.)
In this installment of posts where I tell it like it is in my garden, I take on the award-winning and much beloved Geranium 'Rozanne.' Most gardeners are familiar with this plant and have heard the rave reviews it has received for its incredibly long bloom time. Here at Squirrelhaven, 'Rozanne' has lived up to that reputation by blooming continuously from mid-June to mid-November, and it does so in partial shade. So why then, when my mom asked me to get her this plant, did I say no?
It has to do with style, garden style and personal style. My garden is a semi-wild anarchic thing, with plants rambunctiously slugging it out with their neighbors. My mom likes a neat, tidy garden, where things stay where they are planted. 'Rozanne' is not suited for such a garden, because she has a dirty little secret. She's a sprawler.
There's nothing lady-like about 'Rozanne.' She likes to let it all hang out and won't be confined in a tight little bun, much less a corset.

('Rozanne' in September with Anemone 'Andrea Atkinson.')

She also likes to climb.I swear I didn't stage this photo of 'Rozanne' scaling the Oakleaf Hydrangea (Hydrangea quercifolia). It just did this on its own.
Now this growing habit is not necessarily a bad thing. I like the way 'Rozanne' weaves in and out of other plants. It provides for some beautiful effects.('Rozanne' with Cornus alternifolia 'Stackman' (Golden Shadows).)

Rozanne' is also great for filling in the empty spaces left by spring-blooming bulbs. But it's definitely not for everyone or every garden. I'll be looking into neater growing, long-blooming Geraniums for my mom's garden. But 'Rozanne' is great with me. Maybe it's because we're so much alike.

And Now, a Bit of Fun: A Book Meme

I don't like to tag bloggers to do memes, but I decided I wanted to do this one after being inspired by Dee of Red Dirt Ramblings and Elizabeth of Gardening While Intoxicated.


Here are the Rules: Grab the closest book at hand (no fair going out of your way to get something intellectual, just what’s within arm’s reach of your keyboard). Turn to page 56, go to the fifth sentence and post the results - include the sentences that follow to provide some sort of context. (The tagging of five other bloggers is the part I'm omitting. Call me a rebel.) The closest book to hand is the one I'm currently reading, Christopher Fowler's "Ten Second Staircase," a murder mystery. Here's from a different sort of police procedural:

'You told me the exhaust had fallen off.'
'It has.' Bryant looked at him blankly. 'What of it?'
'You can't drive it like that. It must sound like a Lancaster Bomber.'
'That's right, I have to turn my hearing aid off while I'm driving, but at least people know I'm coming. I made a vicar jump into a hedge this morning. I was in Vauxhall visiting my psychochiropodist,' he explained. 'She reads feet. Apparently I'm about to have an unexpected brush with death. Either that or I've got a bunion.'

The rules ended up yielding an accurate sample of the wackiness that pervades this series, which I find so appealing. (I have a finely tuned sense of the absurd.) They're also good mysteries. I've finished two others of these and I have yet to guess the villain. I love books, I love good mysteries, and I love interesting characters. Feel free to join in or not. In any event, read a book!

November Bloom Day - With Actual, Outdoor Blooms!

It's down to the nitty gritty now, those last stalwart plants that have kept on blooming in spite of lows around 20F/-6C and occasional snowflurries. You have to admire a plant such as Aster tataricus (above), which has continued to bloom even though its foliage has turned yellow. Making an encore appearance after a short break is my current favorite Campanula, 'Sarastro.'Campanula 'Samantha' had been pushing out a couple of blooms, but the last one faded yesterday. There are only a few bracts left on the Heptacodium miconiodes,their color intensified by the cold weather. By contrast, the mystery Mum is still blooming well.Notice the bud at the right of the photo.
I always forget about my annuals on Bloom Day, which is very unfair of me, especially when this Sweet Alyssum (Lobularia maritima) self sows every year, making it the equivalent of a perennial.I've had it so long I can't remember when I first sowed the seeds.
These Callibrachoas have been blooming all summer, although they are petering out. I've paired them in a container with this sturdy pansyand some Osteospermums, which had gotten a second wind this autumn and were blooming up a storm until the hard frost/freeze this week. The photo in the header shows the ice crystals on one of them.
In the large patio container with a Sedum is this annual Verbena.(I lost the tag.) I don't know if I will be seeking this out again next year. It had a terrible problem with Earwigs during the warmer weather and stopped blooming completely in August when there was no rain for a couple of weeks.

And now, give it up for the hardest working plants in the garden: Malva sylvestris 'Zebrina,'Geranium 'Rozanne' and Phlox 'Nicky.'As this soggy photo shows, there's still one more bud on the Phlox. All have been in bloom continuously, 'Rozanne' since June 14, the Malva since June 22, and 'Nicky' since July 5. I guess I should mention the Lamium maculatum, which has been intermittently in bloom since April.
All photos were taken yesterday and today, as it is supposed to rain/snow tomorrow. Not a bad showing for November, an even dozen blooming plants, but the gardening season is essentially over. The Galanthus elwesii are already sprouting. In the immortal words of Porky Pig, "That's all folks!"

To find all the Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day posts, click here, where Carol, of May Dreams Gardens, is your hostess.

Design Dilemma

It was a cold, gray and damp day. The fallen leaves lay strewn across the lawn. The herbaceous Peony needed to be cut back. Several plants still needed to be planted. But where was the gardener? Hiding in the house. I admit it, I'm a wimp. My body hasn't had time to adjust to the cold. Only a week ago it was 71F. It's topped out at a whopping 36F today.
Looking at the above photo, I realize that at some point I'd like to connect the two new beds. But then a bolt of reality hits me: I have to leave room to pile up shoveled snow. Remember last winter, how the snow nearly buried the Cornus kousa 'Beni Fuji' and did completely bury the little Cotinus coggygria 'Ancot' (Golden Spirit) (click here)? Granted, that was an extreme amount of snow, but still, even in a normal year, the snow has to go somewhere. I've read in several places advice that shoveled snow should not be piled on plants. Does this mean I have to leave grass "shovel strips" on either side of the driveway? If so, how can I make an effective design incorporating them? Last winter the snow got shoveled all the way to where the new bed is. It's funny how I forgot all about the winter when I planted the new Rose and the new Sedum. In Chicagoland, the gardener forgets the winter at her own peril.

Fleeting Beauty

Chicagoland enjoyed Indian Summer this week, with highs in the 70s (20s C) for the first half of the week. I spent my outdoor time staining the fence. I decided I wanted to protect the fence so that it would last longer and delay the return of clumsy alien feet entering my garden to replace it. I'm pleased with the result.It shows off the magnificent color of the Cornus alternifolia, which is now blown. Things seem to reach a peak of incandescence and then rapidly lose all those beautiful leaves, which scatter like gems across the lawn and garden. The Crabapple looked like this a few days ago.Now, only a few leaves remain.
I've enjoyed watching the Calycanthus floridus gradually turn gold while the Phlox 'Nicky' in front of it spits out the last few blooms.
The sight of it cheers me up every time I look out my kitchen window. It's still in full color, as are the Yellowwood (Cladrastis kentukea)the Physocarpus opulifolius 'Monlo' (Diabolo),and the baby Cornus kousa 'Beni Fuji.'
These three are out front, picking up from the Magnolia, which is now completely leafless. This Gillenia seemed to glow from the inside before the fire went out, leaving it dull and brown now. I'm glad I got a shot of these lilies before they turned brown.The Hosta near them had already had their moment in the spotlight and had started to shrivel. Most of these photos were taken on warm, sunny afternoons. The weather has turned nasty now. The sky is gray and the temperature is 36 F (2.4C). There was snow mixed with the rain yesterday and more snow is expected today. My motto for autumn truly is carpe diem (seize the day).

Muse of November

When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the beir with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
William Shakespeare

Yes, it's that time again, the time I dread when we turn back the clock (and I'm not talking about getting nostalgic). It'll be dark by 5 p.m. now. It is, in a word, depressing. November is pretty much of a downer, with its focus on death and remembrance. The year is passing away, the garden is fading away, and the light is dimming. But what can you do? Me, I'm typing this while wearing my Dia de los Muertos pjs with the bright floral skulls. It's a good thing I like dark humor. Turn on the light box and pass the dark chocolates.
Garden Bloggers' Muse Day is hosted by Carolyn Gail of Sweet Home & Garden Chicago. Click here to find all the Muse Day posts.