Sunday, September 06, 2026

Like a mullet

Friday night we received 1.75" of welcome rain, which means it is a good time to pull weeds. While bending over a garden bed, I think about my older brothers who love to travel. I'd rather be weeding my garden than waiting for a connection in an airport.

Today I worked on the beds out front, which often leaves me disgruntled because they just don't look very attractive despite all the money I spent having the yard redesigned. Over the course of next summer I plan to move almost all the natives in the front to the back. Then the summer after, I'll replant the front with more standard shrubs, etc. The description that comes to mind is "Business in the front, party in the back."

I have no memory of planting goldenrod on the south side of the house, but there it is, big and beautiful. Now there appears to be a new variety, one that is fuzzy looking and shorter. Hairy goldenrod? I *know* I did not plant it, but goldenrod is rather opportunistic when it comes to bare ground. With the variety I *did* plant on the north side of the house, I now seem to have three kinds of goldenrod. The more, the merrier, at least as far as the pollinators go.


Speaking of pollinators, my SO planted Mexican sunflowers this summer. They have proven to be quite the butterfly and bee magnet. I meant to plant some myself but didn't get around to it. Next year for sure!

We stopped at Lowe's the other day for more mulch and spotted this plant: Echibeckia?!? I consulted AI about this new hybrid. It produces pretty blooms over a long period of time and is sterile, so will not reseed itself. It can be grown as a perennial in USDA zones 6-9 (I'm 5B, so I would be paying $16.98 for a single annual) and attracts beneficial insects.

Don't plant this!

Wait - WHAT?!? I challenged AI about this plant's ability to attract pollinators. And it admitted I was right. Here are the drawbacks of coneflower/rudbeckia cultivars (direct quotes from AI):
  • Sterility: Echibeckia is a sterile hybrid. Because it does not set seed, it provides zero food for birds like finches, who heavily rely on the late-season seed heads of native Echinacea and Rudbeckia. 
  •  Altered Flower Anatomy: Many popular cultivars (like the Summerina Glow series) feature double-petaled or highly modified densely packed structures. This makes it physically difficult for bees and butterflies to access what little pollen or nectar might be available. 
  • Lack of Co-Evolution: True native pollinators evolved alongside straight species (like Echinacea purpurea or Rudbeckia fulgida). Man-made hybrids prioritize aesthetics—like massive blooms, unusual colors, and extended shelf-life—often at the direct expense of nutrient quality
So don't buy this plant!

Inside, I noticed that my aloe vera plant has produced babies, also known as "pups" or "offsets". Four of them... so far. I'm a little surprised since the mother plant is not that big. I'll leave them for now, but I really don't want *more* houseplants.


Outside (thankfully) is this BIG spider that I assume is a funnel spider. I noticed it when it came out to kill a fly caught in its web. I like spiders... as long that they are not in the house!


Maybe it is time to hunt up some Osage orange balls.

Saturday, August 29, 2026

Signs of autumn

In a few days, the high temperatures will hit 90+ again, but in the meantime I am going to pretend that autumn is on its way. The yard looks like it agrees, as summer blooms become less vibrant and the fall ones start to come into their own.


Wasps seem to outnumber the bees, at least on the goldenrod. I plan to use the flowers from this plant to dye yarn, so I'll need to harvest early in the day and shake off any bugs that are hiding out. Don't worry - there will be plenty left for the insects.


The fruit on the flowering crabs and winterberry is turning.


And in anticipation of Halloween, new flamingos have been added to the collection.


Under the "out and about" category, my SO and son and I visited the local botanical conservatory this week. I don't usually go there in the summer - and now I know why: it's HOT in there on a sunny day! The tropical and desert displays feel like more of a respite during the winter months, but I wanted to see their pueblo garden display. Of particular interest were methods for conserving water: buried ollas and waffle beds. The "three sisters" - corn, beans, and squash - were planted together, another age-old gardening trick. And then there were those ever-popular southwest colors - terra cotta adobe and blue doors.

It's difficult to leave a garden of any kind without purchasing a memento, in this case three living stone plants. I wanted something that would not outgrow the pot for many years, and these "buttons" look like they fit the bill. Hopefully, I won't kill them. (The foliage and flowers in the photos are artificial.)




This year there seems to be a plethora of articles on deadheading and seed-saving coneflowers. The advice does not compute, as indicated by the comments that accompany the posts, most of which lean toward the "leave the seeds for the birds" and "coneflowers will reseed themselves" variety. Yes, the fading flowers are not very pretty but the goldfinch feeding on them are.

Sunday, August 23, 2026

Bag by bag, bit by bit

I decided the beds in the backyard needed mulch. In the past, I have shoveled big piles of it, but that takes forever. Now my MO is to purchase six bags at a time. I'm keeping count, as next year I may have Lowe's deliver a pallet of bags at the beginning of the season. That would be easier on my SO, who does the heavy lifting at the store.


Regarding the arches, I decided instead of cutting them in half, I could just remove some of the middle bits so that they can straddle the fence. Executing that idea is a bit of a challenge tool-wise and muscle-wise. I may solicit some assistance from my SO since I am using his tools and he has more upper body strength.

Besides mulching and mowing, I haven't done a lot in the yard this past week. Something was accomplished inside, though: a new tankless reverse osmosis device. The contractors not only installed it and replaced the garbage disposal but also re-routed the plumbing under the kitchen sink so that I still have plenty of room for the usual junk that goes there.


It's that time of the year when the coneflower starts to fade and the goldenrod begins to come on. The pineapple sage plants are HUGE but they don't bloom until the last minute, a gift to the hummingbirds. Blue jays are back from wherever they summer. I have to keep reminding myself that it is still August because it feels like change is in the air.

Saturday, August 15, 2026

Plans start to come together

I'm one of those people who is good at dreaming up ideas, not so good at actually implementing them. So when any of my crazy plans actually start to come together, I get very excited.

Something I have wanted for a while are arches over the gates. Fancy ones are very expensive (and then the welds break). I finally caught onto what other gardeners know to use: cattle panels. They are 16' x 50" and flexible and strong. My daughter transported them from Tractor Supply to my house. Today I wrestled them into position, sort of. I *think* I want to cut them in half lengthwise. Maybe.



Another idea involves defining paths through the larger beds in the backyard. There is a prototype of one between the rain garden and the chokeberry shrubs. Yesterday my daughter and I cleared some of the yard waste from the back of the yard and took it to the biosolids site. Today I took some mulch and defined where I think the path could be in the that bed.

Around the oak tree...

...through the shrubs...

...pass the arborvitae.

Looking back

This summer was the summer of TOO - working in the yard was difficult because it was TOO cool in the spring, TOO hot in the summer, TOO dry, TOO wet, TOO sunny, TOO humid, TOO, TOO, TOO. Occasionally we'd have a perfect day for yardening, but then I frequently had something else I needed to do. I'm relatively satisfied with how I kept up, though there is always more to do.


I sent my lawncare company a note, asking if they use insecticide in their treatment. They didn't answer. Is that a yes? I may try another service next year.

Sunday, August 09, 2026

Dog daze

School is starting, which makes it feel like summer is over, but the temperatures say otherwise. I'm sitting under the elm tree in the backyard, watching goldfinch in the coneflower, hummingbird at the pestemon, swallowtail on the Joe pye. It's rather quiet for a Sunday afternoon - no mowers or loud cars or blaring music. Almost like living in the middle of nowhere.

Why I grow everbearing strawberries

This week's tasks revolved around pruning and weeding and mulching. I'm starting to get a little tired of watering and mowing. At the same time, I am anxiously awaiting next summer, as I have plans, always more plans, for what to do with the yard. It's good to have something to look forward to.

By the way, my ear infection turned out to be a fungal thing. That explains why nothing seemed to be helping until the local ENT office provided me with the proper diagnosis and an rx for ear drops. Still not completely better, but progress. Could be worse.

Sunday, August 02, 2026

Chatty AI

Recently, when I searched for a perennial that would do well with no morning sun or afternoon sun but about four hours of midday sun, yarrow was recommended. Then the search engine on my phone asked questions about my search results, which is something new to me. "We" chatted a bit over that before I bailed. (You don't have to politely end a "conversation" with AI - just rudely leave. So satisfying.)

My SO commented that his yarrow looks great but hasn't bloomed in years. So the next day I queried about that. The response was yarrow needs 6-8 hours of sun a day. I countered "But yesterday you said...." That elicited an apology and a clarification. Funny stuff.

Rudbeckia with a bit of ironweed

One thing AI seems inadequate for is identifying odd bugs. I haven't had any luck ID'ing these two. They both are very tiny.



However, common whitetail skimmers popped up after a text search, which is good because I can't get close enough for a photo. They seem to like the nodding onion.

Two adult mourning doves with their youngsters

My SO and I visited Fort Wayne Rocks, as I have a plan to create gravel paths through the larger beds so I can get into them, but I want to edge the paths with rocks to contain the gravel. I didn't order the rocks yet - need to clear out some yard waste first - but the price for a pallet of what I want is reasonable.

I mentioned my plan to my daughter and she flashed me some photos of what she would like to do with rocks. We both have flat yards, so nothing dramatic can be accomplished, but my idea is plain vanilla compared to hers.

Saturday, July 25, 2026

Strong enough

I have been so busy lately that I castigate myself for not exercising beyond walking the dog. But surely yardening counts, right? I'm strong enough to be able to do what I want.

Withstanding the heat is another matter. The past week has been rather delightful temperatur-wise, so I tackled the beds in the front of the house, cutting back spent flower stems and weeding; it looks better now. Today I transplanted some of the volunteer nodding onion to the backyard, then mulched a bit in the shade, as that sun was HOT. More hot weather is on the way. Hopefully it will bring some much needed rain.

The oak tree in the backyard was installed with a stake to hold it up while it established its roots. Last week I checked the collar that circles the trunk and discovered it was time to remove that thing. Ditto the flowering crab in the front yard. One of those things that is easy to forget.


Despite being new, one of the culver root plants is blooming. If I didn't water all the newbies every day or two, I would have missed it.


I have seen more butterflies - swallowtails and monarchs - in the backyard this summer than I have the past several years combined. They don't stay, but it is still a good sign that they are at least checking things out. Nothing discourages the cicadas - the song of summer.

Saturday, July 18, 2026

Another indoor week

As if the hot weather is not enough to send one scurrying indoors, this week we have had to contend with poor air quality, thanks to some wildfires. Today offered a break from the bad air and it was supposed to be "only" 85 degrees out, so I slaved away a bit in the "meadow", clearing out some weeds and mulching the coneflowers. The temp actually reached 90(!), and I could not help but think, "Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the noonday sun...."

Joe pye

Even with a large yard to draw me outside, I sometimes don't take time to look around. This week I've witnessed Mama Hawk teaching her two youngsters to hunt, hummingbirds visiting the fuschia, a monarch amidst the milkweed, possible fox or coyote scat in the front lawn. I just have to pay attention.

'Golden Tiara' hosta

I have ordered a couple of landscape designs in my lifetime. Recently it occurred to me that the designs show the plantings from a birdseye view, and not how the plantings will look to a person standing nearby. For example, the shrubs and trees in the backyard provide a variety of greens and visual textures, but they need something more, some other colors. Ditto the natives planted in the front of the house - pretty when they bloom in the spring, otherwise a lot of green that also looks kind of weedy.

Begonia

After the last go-round with the landscape, I told my SO that if this does not work out, I'm putting everything back into lawn. But I'm not doing that, obviously. I keep making changes instead, mostly additions.

Sunbathing

Because what would I do with myself if I didn't have the yard?

Monday, July 13, 2026

Love the one you're with

I have IBS and sometimes get really bummed about all the foods I can no longer enjoy. Most of the time, however, I focus on what I *can* eat and have discovered some new and yummy meals (air fryer tofu, anyone?) Ditto the bugs in my yard. Several times a day I check on the bees on the bee balm and every evening I make a point of watching the fireflies. If one takes a moment to look around, there are more insects to enjoy.

Like this ladybug on some milkweed.


Or this white-striped black mason wasp. (Photo from Wiki - I didn't want to get too close until I found out whether this guy was friend or foe.)


This volunteer butterflyweed attracted a black swallowtail. (For some reason, the red, white, and blue flamingos keep their heads buried in the aster.)


So there *are* some 6-leggeds in my yard, just not as many as I wish for.

This is one view from my deck. In the foreground, joe pye and queen of the prairie, in the rain garden swamp milkweed, in the back coneflower, milkweed, cupplant, sunflower. This is the kind of color I would like to see all over my backyard this time of year.


Volunteer sunflower

Cupplant

I continue to attack the weeds. Most of the backyard is under control except for the corner pictured above. Yesterday I worked on one of the beds in the front yard, for about two hours; there was a LOT of clover. Always more to do.

Saturday, July 04, 2026

An indoor week

I haven't had an ear infection since I was ten years old, but I apparently have one this week. That and the heat have kept me literally under the weather this past week. I watered a bit, but that was about it. The weeds are taking advantage of my absence.

While confined to the house, I started watching Garden Fit. It's a combination of great gardens and ergonomic exercises to help ease gardening aches and pains.

This is what I see when I look out one of my windows into the backyard: in the foreground fuschia, then Queen of the Prairie, then coneflower, and way in the back milkweed. Pinks!


My "ditch" daylilies get a fair amount of shade, so are behind most of the others in this area. Once I get the yard waste cleared away from the back fence, I may divide the clumps and move some out there.


In fact, I have a lot of plans for what to do with the open areas around the shrubs. Bees still visit the monarda on the south side of the house; that would be a nice addtion, maybe interspersed with the daylilies. That's the thing about gardening - there is always room for improvement and experimentation.

Sunday, June 28, 2026

Let it go

I'm tired of complaining about the lack of bugs in my yard. Instead, I'm adjusting my attitude. If the native plants are not going to attract pollinators, I might as well allow myself to plant some (pretty) non-natives.

A handful of bees have been visiting the milkweed

This is a photo of a redbud leaf. Google Lens was not helpful in identifying whatever this black stuff is. I hope it does not spread to the other trees.


More plants are blooming, like this monarda, a.k.a. bee balm. It is planted amongst the northern sea oats on the south side of the house, but the sea oats appear to be overtaking it. I'll leave it be for now, but may add bee balm to the backyard for some summer color.


Many (MANY) years ago I planted (and transplanted) some tiger lilies in the yard. Most of them have died out, but occasionally one or two pop up in unexpected places. Go figure.



This coming week promises to be a scorcher. That means rolling out of bed and right into dog walking mode, sans coffee, before the day gets too hot. Keep cool!

Saturday, June 20, 2026

The Birds

While working in the backyard, I can hear the baby bluebirds cheeping whenever Mom or Dad arrives with a meal. While the wren houses go unused, the chicks from the wren family in the flamingo-shaped birdhouse are leaving the nest, fluttering their wings. And this afternoon, a young robin found itself trapped behind the poultry netting protecting the chokebery shrubs; we rescued it. It's a living aviary out there.

Last night when I let the dog out for her final trip around the yard, I watched a light show in the dusk. I may not have monarchs in the milkweed or swallowtails on the spice bush, but at least I have fireflies.

All the plants, new and established, are doing well. I think I am getting the upper hand on the weeds; mulching around the shrubs helps. My yard chores are starting to shift to pruning and transplanting. Soon I'll be eating garden tomatoes.


On a completely different topic, after the latest rollout of Google's new Health app (a replacement for the Fitbit one), my Charge 5 first went on life support, then crapped out altogether. Judging by the online complaints, I'm not the only one suffering. (And as a former software developer, I'm appalled over this debacle.) It seemed pointless to replace it with another Fitbit product that may or may not work with Health. Instead, I purchased a cheapo fitness tracker from Walmart for $25. It works fine and has all the functions I care about, and then some. It doesn't seem to have a brand name, but the app that comes with it is called GloryFit. Take that, Google!

Saturday, June 13, 2026

Useless effort?

This past week, the New York Times ran an article about what happens when a home with a yard planted in natives goes on the market. In their examples, the properties sold for a premium. I have a feeling that is not going to happen around here.

Which led to despondency about my yard. I put a LOT of effort into growing natives despite living in a pollinator desert, which results in a sense of futility. And then there is the weedy look of the natives at the front of the house - not what I would call curb appeal. I'm tempted to transplant them all to the backyard where they can look as weedy as they wish, then update the front to look more conventional (within reason).

Part of my funk is because this is the lull before summer flowers, but that is beginning to turn around.

The penstemon lives on despite my efforts to irradicate it

The start of milkweed season

First coneflower

Honeysuckle vine starts early and goes all summer

Fading climbing rose (surrounded by thistle)

I'm still battling weeds, but at least the lawn has slowed down. The newbies need daily watering, while the hanging planters require it twice a day. I cleared the dams that form at the downspouts, so I welcome a heavy downpour just to see my effort pay off. I pick strawberries every afternoon for my evening yogurt parfait. Things could be worse.