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!

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.

Am I finished purchasing plants?

I made several (A LOT OF) impulse purchases this spring, mostly for the rain garden. Ditto seeds. I tend to go overboard. Unless something dies and needs to be replaced, I think I am done adding plants to the yard. Fingers crossed.

Any exceptions? I've talked myself out of raspberry plants. Maybe the hosta garden needs a fern? I'd like to add smooth penstemon to the rain garden, but that may happen yet this year. And if I get arches installed over the gates, some climbers may need to be added. AND THAT IS ALL! (Except for some asters? I'm hopeless.)

My daughter and I visited a new-to-us nursery near Churubusco this past week. I was interested in some hanging planters (because they don't count as plant purchases, right?) The fuchsia ones were sold out, so I snatched up the last of their fuchsia plants so I could make my own.

I paid attention to which of their hanging planters attracted bees and chose two lobelia. At first, the bees in my yard swarmed those planters, chasing each other off, but their initial enthusiasm has waned. Maybe it is not a good pollinator plant?

I stopped by a local farmers market the next day and could not resist this Black Eyed Susan vine. You may recall I have grown this myself in the past, but this one came ready-made.

And I found some purple basil, not for eating but for dyeing yarn. It's now potted in front of the strawberry bed, flanked by pineapple sage.

My daughter fretted about the possibility of a "flash drought" this summer. So far, the only part of the state that is under threat is the northwest (according to the Purdue Landscaping Report). This week has been less rainy - I went FIVE DAYS without mowing the lawn. I could have gone longer, but thunderstorms were predicted for the weekend. Half-inch of rain (so far); my gutters need cleaning.

What else is going on in the yard? Strawberries and tomatoes have appeared on their respective plants. The safflower has sprouted; I'm growing it to dye with. I planted some sunflowers amongst the milkweed. The big patch of dame's rocket by the strawberry bed is history. The stinky 'Blue Muffin' viburnum is done blooming; it's cousin 'Chicago Lustre' has taken over. The winterberry looks recovered from the winter and is blooming, but the blossoms are so tiny as to be practically invisible. The climbing rose is the opposite - almost gaudy. Weeds are still an issue.

Last June I picked some fruit off the serviceberries and froze it. Now that the berries are ripening, I put the frozen ones outside. We'll see if anything eats them. Just a little experiment.

Inside, I repotted several of my houseplants. I don't feed them at all, as then they would grow and need to be repotted more often. But eventually, I have to give in to their needs.