I have cottonwood leaves all over my garden and we've had some deliciously cool nights, so fall is definitely in the air. (We'll just ignore the fact that it's 95°F and super humid today.) I do an awful lot of transplanting in fall and am looking forward to the busy 6-8 weeks ahead of me! It's been so hot this summer that I haven't been in the garden nearly as much as normal.

The beginning of September also means it's time for the monthly SeedGROW post.

I'm really liking the 'Summer Splash' marigolds. The photo on the seed packet shows them as a solid lemon yellow, but in all honesty, I prefer this color.
The plants are super bushy and nearly 2 feet tall, and I only watered them regularly after I first planted them. I really like them along the edge of my veggie bed, and they have helped me fall in love with marigolds again.

My basil 'Italian Cameo' did absolutely marvelously, considering how often I forgot to water it--and it was in a container! I harvested it to make pesto (using this recipe, only I roasted the pine nuts first and added twice the amount of garlic they listed), so it now looks like this. If you would like to see the actual plant and its beautiful leaves, go here.

I hadn't thinned out my lettuce 'Garden Babies' and it was growing too closely together. It's doing much better now with more room.

I'm growing with the SeedGROW project. Thanks to Renee's Garden for the seeds.

I can't believe it's July already, but here we are. And time for another SeedGROW post! A month ago, I had just sowed the basil and lettuce seeds, and the marigold seedlings had just come up.

Today, the basil 'Italian Cameo' is doing really well.

You can almost smell it!

The lettuce 'Garden Babies' is not quite as lush. I'm starting to think I should have planted it in a smaller container, as it's a variety created especially for small spaces.

I sowed several other varieties of lettuce on the same day as the 'Garden Babies' into some drawers I got through freecycle. Both seed mixes are also from Renee's Garden, and I've already been harvesting from both. 'Cut and Come Again' (foreground) is a mix of baby and mesclun lettuces, and 'Farmers Market Lettuce Blend' (background) is a mix of sweet green and red lettuces. Both mixes will regrow after being cut.

I've planted the marigolds at the edge of my vegetable bed, because I was struck by an urge to go old school. They haven't flowered yet, probably because I only planted them in the ground a few days ago, and their roots needed to expand from their cell packs! I'm sure I'll have flowers to show you next month.

Have a super holiday weekend, everyone! I'm watching the 2011 FIFA Women's World Cup, which runs through July 17. Go Team USA and Go Team Germany! Deutschland Vor! Noch ein Tor!

I'm growing with the SeedGROW project. Thanks to Renee's Garden for the seeds.

I'm still waiting for spring, but a friend recently traveled to Morocco. She took some wonderful photos at Majorelle Gardens in Marrakech, which I put into a little slide show for you.

I'm very envious of her trip, of course, but it's the next best thing to being there! Enjoy.



P.S. Can you tell Picasa is my new best friend?

Note: Rumors of the death of this blog have been highly exaggerated.

I've been walking around the garden for a about a week, rejoicing daily in new signs of green!

The first green foliage to pop up for me each year isn't from spring bulbs, but from tiger lilies, up close to my foundation.

Maybe my hellebore will bloom this year.

Hyacinths like it wet over winter and dry in summer--they're perfect under my roof overhang.

Bearded irises are emerging.

My first clump of daffodils, near the foundation and under a chair, boasts my tallest bulb folaige so far.

I wonder how long these tulips (at least I think they're tulips, but I don't remember planting them) will last, given the real sign of spring in my garden...

{bum bum bum}... the groundhog has awoken from hibernation! For some of my previous encounters with groundhogs, see this and this.

I got this very small azalea from a friend a few years ago and look at its nice bud--the first flowers it's had! So looking forward to it blooming.

Speaking of buds, I love viburnums. This one will bloom in pink. And I would tell you its cultivar name if I knew where its tag was.

The ice has melted on the little vernal pond behind my house, where American toads sing and breed later in the year. (Like all vernal ponds, this dries up by early summer.)

I love love-in-a-mist foliage.These didn't actually pop up recently; they've been evergreen since last fall, surviving under snow and ice. In fact, if you ever need to know for a quiz show, love-in-a-mist is the only annual I know of that can come up in fall, overwinter in Michigan, and bloom in spring.

But note they spread! You can barely see the prickly pear cactus in the middle of all the love-in-a-mist seedlings.

Squirrels digging in the "lawn" is also a sure sign of spring around here.

Notably missing are witch hazel (which was blooming this time last year), snowdrops (which come up first for everyone else and almost last for me), and crocuses (no foliage up yet, but it seems to grow overnight).

And, finally, a sure sign of spring is that the snow has melted from my winter-sowing containers! (Snow on the ground has melted now, too.) I have one last flat to sow today; we're definitely at the end of the winter-sowing season here in zone 5b/6a.

Edited to add: After a day of temps in the mid 60s and sunshine, look what I found: crocus buds and leaves, which came up together! Shamrock shakes and kisses all around!

I've always believed in taking the road less traveled, but lately I've been thinking of it as the scenic route, because that sounds like you'd meet a lot more plants. Plus, I'm way behind on everything lately and that sounds like a good excuse--I've been taking the scenic route!

Plus, the scenic route ties into the idea of focusing on the here and now (thank you, Cheryl!), not dwelling in the past or fidgeting about the future. And I like to take in what's here and now, savor it, appreciate it. For example, this is the only one of my three 'Spitfires' still blooming. I'd rather focus on it than the ones that died. Look how intense the color is and how the foliage looks like little lily pads!

And bless its heart, it's still budding!

And as long as we're standing together in my fall garden, check out my beautyberry (Callicarpa americana). Its berries are more striking than normal this year.

Is there any question how it got its name?!

My rogue queen of the prairie (Filipendula rubra) should have bloomed in early July, but it also took the scenic route. Eggplant 'Black Beauty' is still kickin' it and cheering Fili on.

Let's cross the street to my kitty-corner neighbors' house (hi, Jim & Nancy!). Do you see something special in their huge, gorgeous red maple?

Now you do! If I'd've been driving by too fast, I wouldn't have seen it.

My tomatoes are done, and I've been collecting seeds. I left these 'Tiger-Like' (which are soooooo good!) soaking too long and they sprouted in the water! And turned fuzzy, noogie! So while the seeds are no longer good for saving and planting later, I decided to sow the sprouted ones indoors now and see what happens. Maybe I'll have tomatoes in February! I love longitudinal research (the scenic route!).


I'm growing Nasturtium 'Spitfire' for the GROW project. Thanks to Renee's Garden for the seeds.

My garden has seemed a bit too big for a while now. Things that were initially mere blips on the garden radar have lately felt overwhelming and insurmountable. A very hot summer kept me inside a lot, and weeds have taken over. My tomatoes were a big bust this year due to marauding raccoons and suboptimal sunlight. There's so much to plant and transplant yet this fall, which I normally look forward to but which this year feels defeating.

Today I planned to dig out seven overgrown junipers that need to go to make room for other things I like more, which have been waiting to get in the ground since June. Five of the junipers are 4' tall x 6' wide, the other two are 5' x 8' feet, though I'd trimmed those back considerably already.

I normally like digging out shrubs--it's hard work but it's gratifying when it's done and it's a good way to get out aggression! First I cut off the branches of the first shrub, which filled two yard waste bags, so I could see where I was digging. Then I dug. This was extremely arduous because the soil is so dry and the roots are far down. I barely reached them at all. I get rashes if I touch certain evergreens and even though I was wearing long sleeves, long pants, socks and closed shoes, I could feel my neck and the back of my legs start to itch. The underside of my foot where you push on the shovel was a little sore. An hour and a lot of digging passed, but still no progress even finding the roots, and the base trunks were not loosening even an eeny beeny tiny bit!

To say I was getting frustrated would be inaccurate. I was swearing at random things (yes out loud), and even called a squirrel (my favorite wildlife friend!) an expression favored by residents of Deadwood. In a fit of fury I jumped down on the spade too hard, onto soil that was too hard, lost my balance, and toppled onto the adjacent juniper in a big flailing heap.

Before I mention what happened next I have to tell you that gardening has been my passion for many years and I have gardened in many different settings. I'm very much a roll-up-your-sleeves-and-get-stuck-in kind of person, a modern-day Rosie the Riveter. My arms, my energy, my determination, and my will are strong. I'm not afraid of hard work and I've always done my own heavy lifting. And, let's face it, I'm so goddamn stubborn that a whole army of buckthorn is no real match.

That being said, we return to me face down in a juniper (which would have been pretty funny if I hadn't been in a mood). I wasn't hurt, but I found myself balled up in a fetal position crying like a baby kitten who can't find its mama. Well, OK, not really crying because I think the sweating dehydrated my ability to produce tears, but that's not the point.

The point is, I cursed my garden, listing all its failings and all its demands, and everything I had ever done for it, and for what? What had it done for me? Huh?! I used a lot of sentences involving "you always" and "you never" and finally told it to get the hell out of my life, only in much more colorful language.

I squeezed my eyes shut, crossed my arms, and pouted, waiting for it to beat a hasty retreat or at least apologize. I fantasized about doing a major ecological burn and thoroughly enjoyed imagining certain things engulfed in flames. I envisioned an alternate garden, a kwoot widdle patio garden, so sweet and demure.

Feeling a lot better, I opened my eyes and was greeted by wonderful color. My garden gave me flowers, clearly as an apology and peace offering. Embarrassed, I apologized also and asked it to take me back. It smiled and said, "I'm not going anywhere."

Which is all very fine and good and smile smile smile happy, but... I still have one partway dug out juniper and six to go and, honestly, I'm tired. I don't know what the solution is. I don't know how to make a large garden smaller (I'm not ever going to convert beds to lawn and my plants are already low care, I never water!) or how to keep up with it more or how to regain some of the enthusiasm I once had.

I suspect it would help to do just a little bit every day, rather than feeling like I have to do perform big miracles all at once. And I think I just need to get back to work. Right after I have lunch.

P.S. My favorite ass-kickin' companion suggests 1) I learn to focus the camera and 2) to intimidate the problem out of existence! Easy peasy.

Added 9/18: Photo update. Three of the five shrubs in the first bed are dug out. Even though my BIL has a pickup and could probably get those chains for me, there isn't a clear path for a vehicle to access that bed. I found digging as far as I can and then soaking the hole for a few hours makes it possible to get at the deepest roots. A second bed has two really big ones and access to the street. I may ask my BIL for help but he has so many projects that I don't like to bother him if I can do it myself.

I was just thinking it's been a while since we've walked around my garden together and it's even time for the August Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day!


I have to start with this retro green and rusted lawn chair, which I found curbside. I struggled with at least five contortions before fitting it into my non-hatchback Focus. At one point it fell out of the trunk and was dragging on the road (I am not exaggerating)... and it hit my foot on one lift. But I'm stubborn and just knew it would make the perfect plant stand for my pot of elephant ears, ferns, and coleus.


I grew potatoes for the first time this year. I decided to use a storage tub (with holes drilled in the bottom), so I could fill it with composty goodness. You know they're ready to harvest when the foliage dies. I started them from seed potatoes, and they were ridiculously easy to grow and they tasted so good. And digging for the taters was fun — there's just something about sticking your arms elbow deep into a nice soil-compost mix and rooting around... aaaahhh!


Here's my second harvest of 'Bintje' potatoes. Nom nom nom!


I'd more or less given up getting eggplants this year, when I saw a tiny 2-inch fruit on August 8. Holla! I thought it was solely because, as Lisa put it, they were "abused as a seedling" (I left them in those small cell packs way too long before transplanting), but it turns out several others have reported their eggplants are late this year too (Ha! it's not all my fault!). We had a really heavy rainstorm and on August 14, the eggplant had tripled in size.


Tomatoes are looking a little small compared to everyone else's, but I don't have too much sun and the soil is bad here, despite improvements, so I'm glad to get even a few tomatoes per plant. They're all heirlooms and each plant is a different variety. I have another two tomatoes in the ground out of view, plus five more in containers. I just realized this whole shot, with my home-made compost bin and rain barrels, plus the random stuff I have set around to squelch weeds, makes this an excellent #uglygardens vignette.

I've saved my first tomato seeds of the season. Easy-to-follow tomato seed saving instructions, with photos, are here. This is my second year saving tomato seeds. I first used paper towels to dry the seeds in the final step, but the seeds really stuck to that. I then tried plain white paper and that worked a lot better. This year I found Colleen's instructions and I got some paper plates, which was genius. No sticking at all and much faster drying times.

The other thing I did differently this year was to wait for mold to form in the initial seed soaking. This fermentation step isn't necessary in terms of seed viability or vitality, but it makes the seed coating (gooey tomato gel) come off the seeds much more easily. Last year I skipped that step and rinsed and rinsed and rinsed and rinsed in a sieve. That worked, too, but was a lot more work.


My cup plant (Silphium perfoliatum*) is only 5 feet tall, though they can get to 10 feet in optimal sun. I wrote a bit more about it here.


Look who I found on the cup plant blossom — the soldier beetle is not only a pollinator, but it eats aphids. I love beneficial insects. Plus, it's just so cute!


Despite my laziness in not having planted this nodding wild onion (Allium cernuum) since my friend gave it to me in {looks around furtively} early June, it's blooming and doing well!


I love the almost-ready-to-bloom buds of rough blazing star, Liatris aspera.


Love the turkey-foot shaped seed head of big bluestem grass, Andropogon gerardii.

I have several clumps of tall coreopsis (Coreopsis tripteris), this one along the neighbor's fence.


Butterfly bush is bright and cheerful.


One of my many cultivar Viburnums. I love the berries. I do have a native arrowwood Viburnum, too. :)


I adore the buds of Japanese anemone. (All together now: "Noogie!")


Some of my Japanese anemone have already starting blooming.


The berries on this purple beautyberry shrub will turn bright, vivid, holla! violet in another month or so.


The front bed taken from the driveway, looking south. (Pinky says hi.)


The front bed along the house, taken from the porch facing south.


The front bed on the other side of the walkway, taken from the front porch looking west. (Say hi to Bizi** so she can ignore you!)


One of my favorite garden spots. I love the rattlesnake master (Eryngium yuccifolium) paired with the Russian sage.


And that combo close up.

Mexican hat.


The sunflowers I sowed on July 4 are about a foot tall and look like they're getting buds!


The Mexican petunia Sweetbay sent back in May finally has a bloom!!


My first-ever rose 'Golden Wings' is blooming again since I pruned the dogwood, which was blocking her sun, waaaaay back.


Even though I cut my sneezeweed back over a foot in early July, it's blooming now. 'Mardi Gras' has long since finished, and now it's time for 'Moerheim Beauty'...


...and the native yellow Helenium autumnale. It's tall and makes a great screen for one of my rain barrels. (See how you can't see it?)


I just love it close up.


Bees love my dahlia 'Bonne Esperance.'


I'd say my one (and only) 'Uchiki Kuri' squash is ready.


The ironweed (Vernonia missurica) outside my front door is a good six feet tall. I've read it likes it wet, though I never water mine. I also read it can spread, but mine hasn't (though it is true I collect its seeds).


I love its vibrant purple flowers.

And that's about it for today. It's too humid and there are too many mosquitos. Let's go in and have some zucchini bread and lemonade.

* I'm marking native plants in this post by also giving their Latin name. (No Latin name = not a native plant.)

** Bizi is Fiona's nickname; Jimi is James' nickname. People often mention "all your cats" and as much as I'd love to be a crazy cat lady, I have just those two. It hit me that perhaps the nicknames were interpreted as individuals, esp. as Bizi isn't so obviously derived from Fiona.

Thanks to Carol of May Dreams Gardens for hosting Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day.