Beauty & the Barrel

In response to all the interest and questions about my new rainbarrel, here are the details. My Very Indulgent Spouse (VIS) ordered this rainbarrel from Gardener's Supply Company and gave it to me for Christmas. We had to wait until spring to put it up. As with any rainbarrel, it's best to have it slightly elevated so that it is easier to get a watering can under the spigot near the bottom. This 65-gallon rainbarrel also has a hose with a shut off valve attached to an outlet on the bottom of the rainbarrel. VIS sawed off the downspout and helped me attach the hose. The top of this rainbarrel has a small planter into which I had to drill drainage holes. I don't think I'll put any plants in there unless it is a succulent, as the planter isn't very deep. I haven't had a chance to try out the spigot or the hose yet, as it's been raining. Often.

All that rain has benefited the woodland garden. It is now filled with flowers and foliage. The native wildflower Dodecatheon media alba (Shooting Star) is in bud.Next to it, the native Dutchman's Breeches (Dicentra cucullaria) is in full bloom.I wish it wasn't ephemeral, as it has such wonderful foliage. The other Dicentras have also started blooming. This is 'King of Hearts,'and this is 'Zestful.'Neither of these is ephemeral, but instead will bloom throughout the summer.
The last of the Daffodils have bloomed.Pictured here from left to right are 'Mt. Hood,' 'Stainless,' and 'Honeybird.' Under the Crabapple Tree, which is full of buds, is the latest of all, Narcissus 'La Vie En Rose.'I hope it fades completely before the Crabapple blooms, as the color of the cup clashes horribly with the pink of the Crabapple flowers.
The pink of the foliage of Polemium reptans 'Stairway to Heaven'matches the stem of Clematis viticella 'Venosa Violacea.'

Epimedium 'Lilafee'

Some people think them weeds, but I love the little Violets in the lawn.After all, it's our State Flower.
What is turning out to be a weed is Anemone nemorosa.A very pretty thing, but it chokes out other plants, and then goes dormant, leaving a large blank space in the border.
Out front, the Flowering Quince (Chaenomeles speciosa unknown) is, well, flowering.I drastically cut it back early in spring, and I'll be training it into an espalier (hopefully). It was already here when I bought Squirrelhaven, and had become massively overgrown.

It's fitting that it is raining as April takes its bow. This has been a very good April here, one of the best. I'm sad to see it go, but there's much to look forward to in May, which Carol considers the best month of the year here in the Midwest.

The Relativity of Time

It isn't often in life that we encounter perfection, and it seems even less likely around here, where things rarely go smoothly. So any small bits of perfection are treasured all the more, savored and dwelled upon. There should be three clumps of these Sanguinaria 'Multiplex, but the squirrels dug them all up last summer. Fortunately, all three plants survived their trauma, but only one has bloomed. I captured this photo Friday morning. By Saturday, the secondary bud had also bloomed. Now, after 24 hours of very heavy weather, this is all gone, the flowers shattered and the petals spread across the ground.

Why is it, in spring, that times seems to go much faster than during any other season? In winter, time just drags, and in summer, one tires of the heat, humidity, and mosquitoes, and keeps checking the calendar. Autumn goes a bit faster than winter and summer, but nowhere near as quickly as spring. It's already the end of April, too late to start the seeds of some plants, too late for the Morton Arboretum plant sale (which I missed). One can almost see the trees leafing out, and the Daffodils and Pulmonaria are budding and blooming in a day. Already we've had a high temperature in the 80s.

I feel like shouting to the skies, Slow down! I need more time to enjoy my favorite season, instead of spending it all working. But that would be pointless, and so I treasure each little of gift of each perfect moment.

The Name Game - A Rant

Busy times here at Squirrelhaven.  In addition to the mulching and transplanting, it's also time to start visiting the local nurseries and garden centers.  Yesterday, I made a pilgrimage to The Growing Place, in Naperville.  They have such a great variety of plants, many very unusual.  For example, I just bought this Geranium labeled as 'Blue Sunrise.'  However, that is merely it's trademark name and, according to this website, is an invalid name.  The correct name is  'Verguld Saffier.'  It's also listed as Geranium 'Blogold.'  The name "Blue Sunrise," like the name "Diablo" for my Physocarpus 'Monlo,' is a tradename, part of a new trend to make plants more marketable.  I find it incredibly irritating, especially when the tradename is something cutesy, such as "Pinky Winky."  There is no way that I am buying any plant, even a great Hydrangea, with a name derived from a Teletubbies character.  That's a part of my life I am attempting to consign to the dustbin of memory loss.  I might consider buying a plant called Hydrangea paniculata 'DVPpinky,' as stupid as that name is.  Tradenames are trademarks, with a limited duration, so theoretically, at some point, if the person holding the trademark fails to reregister it, another plant of the same genus and species can be given that name, creating the potential for even more confusion in plant nomenclature.  Call me a curmudgeon, call me pedantic, call me a rebel against marketing,  I really could not possibly care less.  I'm digging in my heels on this one, and I will refer to plants by their registered names.  I just wish plant purveyors would at least list the registered name on the tag.  I had to search online to discover the true name of my new Geranium.  Thank goodness Tony Avent, of Plant Delights Nursery, always uses the registered name (to the exclusion of the tradename).  Like me, he despises the whole idea of tradenames.  See here for his well-researched and explained objections.

While I'm in rantmode, I may as well post these photos of really bad edging.  My parents paid money to someone to throw soil on top of their plants.  There really is no excuse for this.  It's one of the reasons I favor a mowing strip instead of a spaded edge. 

Finally, to leave on a lighter note, I took this photo at The Growing Place.The appeal is obvious.  The Tulips are protected by the invention of a suburban Chicagoan which is called "BunnyFence."  I bought one, but I haven't decided yet which plant gets the special treatment.  My problem this spring is more with deer than rabbits.  Maybe I'll test it out against deer.  

I went a little crazy yesterday and bought another Hellebore, but I just couldn't resist this one.It's a plant from the 'Ballerina Mix' of hybrid Hellebores, which is supposed to be of double blooms.  But, as with other seed strains of Hellebores, not all plants are as described.  More on this in a later post.

Oops! I forgot to include the link to the BunnyFence website.  Please click here for more information or if you want to order it. 

Earth Day 2009

Today is Earth Day, when we all think about things we can do to promote the health of the planet.  It's a bittersweet day, sad that there is a need for Earth Day at all. Once, the skies were always the clear blue shown in the above photo, but too often now, the skies in too many places are hazy and filled with pollution.  Our rivers and lakes are tainted with chemicals.  The good part is that we humans have finally realized the damage caused by the past 150 or so years of industrialization, and we are starting to attempt to remediate the damage.  

Here are some things I've done to think globally and act locally:

I've reduced the size of the lawn

and replaced it with natives and well-behaved exotics that can get by on less moisture and don't need to be mowed every week;

planted trees and maintained the existing trees to provide cooling for people;

planted native plants to provide food and shelter for wildlife, and to avoid the need for fertilizers;
and, most recently, got a rainbarrel

to reduce my reliance on the limited aquifers that supply water to my village.   During the drought of 2005, my village imposed a complete ban on watering.  I was limited to hauling the dehumidifier water and the water from the shower up stairs and outside in a bucket.  I'll still be doing that, but if I had had a rainbarrel back then, I might have been able to save a couple of shrubs that died from drought.  One thing I don't have is a raingarden, which may seem surprising until you take into account the incredibly well-drained nature of my soil.  It's rare to find a puddle in the garden or lawn, even after that deluge last September.  Someday, I hope to replace the asphalt of the driveway with permeable pavers.  That would reduce the sole source of runoff from the property.

There's plenty of room for improvement here; I'm definitely not any competition for Ed Begley, Jr.  However, little things in aggregate can have a big impact.  Happy Earth Day!

Native Plants in the Landscape

I just couldn't resist the challenge issued by the folks at Gardening Gone Wild to post a photo of a native plant in a garden setting, as part of a photo contest. Selecting the photo was very easy. I took this photo last summer at Deep Cut Perennial Nursery, when I went to their Bloomfest with the girl. I was just in awe of the gorgeous display gardens there. After turning a corner, my eye lit on this area of Zinnias interplanted with Solidago and backed up by a beautiful Sumac (which I believe is a Cutleaf Staghorn Sumac (Rhus typhina 'Bailtiger' (Tiger Eyes)). While the Zinnias aren't native, the other two plants are. I loved the juxtaposition of what I consider wild plants with a piece of classical statuary. It didn't hurt that the color scheme is one of my favorites, chartreuse and magenta.

And now, other photos of native plants from the garden yesterday. These are some of my favorite plants.Hepatica nobilis var. obtusa, which looks purple when closed and blue when open in the sun.

I love the feel of the ferny foliage of Dutchman's Breeches (Dicentra cucullaria).

Mayapples (Podophyllum peltatum) look so odd before they open their umbrella-like foliage.

The foliage of Anemonella (Thalictrum thalictroides) emerges burgundy, but will gradually turn green.

It's hard to believe that these little shoots of Solomon's Seal (Polyganatum biflorum/commutatum) will soar to over four feet tall. Like the Anemonella foliage, the foliage of Geranium maculatum starts off burgundy and turns green, but unlike the Anemonella, the Geranium foliage turns bright red in autumn.

The freakiest plant in my garden, Caulophyllum thalictroides or Blue Cohosh, has just started blooming. This plant, and the others pictured here, make me smile. There's just something so uplifting about the sight of native plants emerging from the earth in spring and spreading their foliage like the wings of birds about to fly.

April Bloom Day (Now With Ephemerals!)

The wheel has turned the 30-day circle again, bringing us to another Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, when Carol, of May Dreams Gardens, asks us to show off what's blooming in our gardens. To put it bluntly, this spring has been really lousy, with snow and cold. But crummy weather can't hold back the tide of sturdy spring bloomers. Despite all that, things are further along this year than last April (see here and here).

All the late winter/earliest spring flowers from last month are gone, but the promise of buds from last month has been fulfilled. To save loading time, I've put together a slide show. I've tried to include more shots of the plants in the garden, and not just closeups.

All the plants are growing outside except for the potted Pelargonium that managed to survive the winter in the house. It will again spend the summer outside. (That's my secret to houseplant survival: leave them outside as long as possible.) Happy Bloom Day!

Update: the clouds finally cleared, so here is a collage of things open in the sun.Clockwise from top left, Forsythia with Hepatica nobilis var. obtusa, Erythronium dens canis 'Purple King,' Erythronium albidum, and Anemone nemorosa.

(3:06 p.m., 4/15/09: the Magnolia flowers have just opened.)

Easter Parade

Just in time for Easter, the flowers are suddenly coming into bloom. I injured a finger (please don't ask!), and am having difficulty typing, so I'll let the photos speak for themselves.






Happy Easter!