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?

What's it good for? Joe pye weed

The three moisture-loving plants I added to the edge of the rain garden bloom in succession: first meadow rue, then queen of the prairie, now Joe pye weed (Eutrochium purpureum).

It's tall but so far has not needed staking, unlike its neighbors. Like its neighbors, it will spread, so I hope I don't regret including it in my wild backyard. For general information on this plant, go here. For information on growing it, try this site.

While Joe pye has medicinal uses, I plant it for its benefit to pollinators and birds. Hopefully, it will attract a butterfly or two?

I did see a swallowtail this week in my backyard, on the coneflower. Alas, it did not linger. At least the bees are busy.

The weather continues to be weird. We've had enough rain this summer to bring on the fungi. July had some very hot days, but now that August is here, the temps are more moderate, even dipping into the 50's at night. It definitely does not feel like the dog days of summer.

On one of the hot but overcast days, family members visited the Potawatomi Zoo in South Bend. There were flamingos!

Speaking of flamingos, I figured out why my recently purchased solar-powered one was not working: there is an on-off switch that I neglected to notice. Now it glows. If they go on sale, I may purchase a few more, just for kicks. One can never have too many pink flamingos.

Some surprises

It's August, and one doesn't expect miracles, but there have been a few surprises in the yard.

You know the adage for perennials: First year sleep, second year creep, third year leap. So I rarely expect newly planted perennials to do much the first year. The Joe Pye is not very tall, but it has surprised me by blooming. And it looks like one that the rabbits ate is recovering.

Another first year surprise is the Rattlesnake Master. Several of them are "blooming". The spherical flower heads actually are many tiny white flowers that are attractive to insects. I'm pleased.

Two exceptions to the sleep-creep-leap adage are Rudbeckia and Coneflower. I planted them last year, and they are doing exceptionally well. Unfortunately, the coneflower and penstemon hide the rudbeckia. I didn't expect them to get so tall, and the 'Goldstrum' rudbeckia is a shorter variety.

Other surprises are: the Virginia creeper has recovered from the infestation of Japanese beetles; the common milkweed the rabbits ate has resprouted, plus more is coming up here and there in the "meadow"; and today I saw a monarch butterfly!

In the spending-my-children's-inheritance department, I had a whole house backup generator installed this past week. It doubles as insurance against the Trumpocalypse in case you-know-who is re-elected and rolls back climate change legislation (although I feel hopeful that won't happen now). We've lost power twice this summer, and I worry about an outage that could last days or even weeks.

As a gardener, I see evidence of climate change almost everyday, but it is difficult to complain when the weather is as nice as it has been yesterday and today. I've turned off the AC and opened the windows for some fresh air. And I'm sitting on the deck while I type this. Of course, it won't last, but I'm going to enjoy it while it does.

Uggy muggy

I'm reading Lab Girl, by Hope Jahren, in which she states plants love humidity. Their pores relax and they breathe in the moisture. Not so us two-leggeds - that humid air seems particularly devoid of oxygen. The rhododendron appears to be an exception to the rule, curling its leaves against the heat. This dense gardener finally got a clue and watered the 'PJM' today.

Indian hemp seed pods

This is the time of year when I am a little sick of gardening. The heat index has been around 100 lately, so I've been sequestered in the house, not even venturing out to water. Maybe because of the humidity, most plants are fine with my neglect, but not the annual vines that were supposed to cover the pergola. They failed to do so, so I lost interest in keeping them alive. Oops!

Cardinal vine at top of redbud tree

Cardinal vine, up close

It's too late to start anything very ambitious and too early for fall planting. There are always weeds to tackle, but other than beheading the Queen Anne's lace, I'm not motivated. I can think of things to do - transplant iris, order in some wood chips, call around for shrubs I want to plant this autumn - but all I do is think about it.

Identified: Berries of Solanum dulcamara

Next week the temperatures are supposed to be more moderate, plus it might actually rain significant amounts. Sounds like a good time to broadcast the mini clover, plus address those tasks rummaging around in my brain (see above).

Bumble bee on Joe Pye

Meanwhile, I think I'll take advantage of these lazy hazy days and just relax. Inside. Where there is AC. And iced tea.

Accidentally on purpose

Sometimes gardening goes according to plan, but not always. Here are some cases in point.

Every time I see this Joe Pye growing through the deck, I get irritated. Not at the plants, but at the contractors who did not adhere to my specifications to build the deck on the footprint of the patio slab. Instead, they made it a little bit bigger, encroaching on a bed of perennials. I let these plants grow in situ, just to aggravate myself, I guess. They keep spreading, so maybe they will spread out from under the decking.

The Joe Pye isn't the only plant to grow through the deck. I never planted any Common Milkweed in my yard, but they appeared one day and I decided to let them stay. Now there are clumps here and there, but I have yet to see a single monarch caterpillar anywhere.

There are several other plants growing in my yard that I never planted. I'm sure the birds are to blame for some, but I also suspect the free mulch I have obtained from our county compost site. I love the concept of people dropping off their yard waste and having it transformed into mulch and compost, but the reality is not so ideal. In the spirit of making lemonade from lemons, though, I have incorporated some of the newcomers into my yard.

Usually I try to eliminate the brambles, but this black raspberry established itself on the other side of the chain link fence. My son pointed out the berries, which are few and small, but oh-so-delicious.

Wild grapevine can be a nuisance, but the birds do like the fruit. This year I made a rule: it can grow on the back fence, but not on the side fences. The back fence is hidden from those neighbors by their privet hedge, but the side fences are in plain view. So far, the neighbors on either side have not complained, but the family on one side is moving and I don't want to get on the wrong side of the new people right off the bat.

Pokeweed can be a nuisance as well, but again, the birds love it, especially robins and bluebirds. I let some go, as long as its location is not problematic.

In the past, I have yanked the volunteer fleabane out, but this year let a couple of clumps remain. They are native, and while the flowers are not big and showy, they are profuse and continue for quite a while (unlike the Shasta Daisy, which is now pouting because I moved it). I may take the clumps and incorporate them in actual flower beds, that's how much I appreciate the fleabane.

Then there are a variety of plants that I deliberately installed but which have taken on a life of their own.

Several times I have tried to get Black Eyed Susan going here and there in the yard, without success. But at some point, it established itself in what it must consider prime locations. One spot is in the hosta bed, which doesn't get much sunshine; this year's primary clump seems to be struggling, though, because the Old Fashioned Bleeding Heart is crowding it. The other two big clumps are in front of the 'Betty Corning' Clematis vines. Why? I don't know

Along with the Black Eyed Susan is the Canadian Columbine, which pops up all over the place, here in the hosta bed along with some Black Eyed Susan. I'm happy to let it have its way, as the plants are not crazy thick nor long lasting and the blossoms are so pretty.

Last year, I planted calendula in the bed by the front walk, hoping it would reseed itself profusely. That did not happen, but there are a few plants here and there. Its flowering period last longer than the coreopsis and contrast nicely with the sedum, so I hope they continue to prosper. The tricky thing is to not pull the seedlings when weeding.

Even though I knew better, I planted some mint in the yard once upon a time. Now it is everywhere. I yank it over and over, but it prevails. Pollinators love it, so I am letting this one clump go, a decision I may regret. From my understanding, mints do not grow from seed but spread via its vast root system. I tried growing it in a pot, but it did not do well.

Back to the I-did-not-plant-this category. A chipmunk probably planted the seed for this mystery gourd growing in the flower box on the front porch. Since members of the squash family breed freely with each other, there is no telling what the fruit of this vine will be. I'm letting it grow out of curiosity.

Finally, we see the peril of developing a backyard habitat along with a garden: voracious woodchucks. This guy has become a bit bold, sometimes chewing on the front of the house and one time venturing onto the back deck. If I were quicker and it was not, I'd have an up-close-and-personal photo, instead of this grainy one taken through a window at an awkward angle. (Yes, there is a lot of clover in my yard.)

I'm guessing the deck foray was in search of water, as the ground level bird baths were dry that day (bad of me). In a sweeping lack of logic, I am now supplying the groundhog with water, in hopes it will stop knocking over the bird bath that is on a stand. At least the vegetable garden seems secure... for now.

A neighbor has offered me the use of his Havahart trap, but last night I dreamed there were BABY woodchucks frolicking in the backyard. If that happens in real life, I hope Finn the Helpful Gardening Cat will step up and do his job like he does with the baby rabbits. I appreciate his efforts even though I cannot watch. Or maybe a hawk will get them, if they exist. I'm willing to let Mother Nature do my dirty work.

Must be September

The harvest from the vegetable garden is winding down. It was a good year for potatoes, not so much for onions (my fault, I fear, for mishandling the plants last spring), definitely not for tomatoes. There are always lessons learned: One plant provides plenty of zucchini, sweet corn needs to be harvested in a timely manner unless you like the flavor of starch over sugar, you can never have too much horse manure.

September harvest (and the last zucchini)

Another lesson: if there is a way, rabbits and woodchucks have the will. Despite the fortification of wood picket, hardware cloth, and poultry netting, there were occasional incursions by critters. Periodic inspections helped, but invariably damage occurred, even late in the season. I learned that woodchucks climb bean poles...

No beans for you!

... and favor broccoli over cabbage...

Yes to broccoli, no to cabbage

... but no one likes kale enough to justify eight plants.

Not even rabbits or woodchucks like kale

I tried pointing the finger of blame at rabbits, but they don't care for sweet potatoes, nor will they climb onto the cage supposedly protecting the plants, caving it in and nibbling the protruding leaves.

It wasn't me! (This time.)

Fortunately, the enjoyment of late summer flowers balances the frustrations of vegetable gardening. This 'Wild Romance' Aster is a long time survivor. Some years the only thing that saved it was a nearby metal plant marker.

Aster 'Wild Romance', with bee

I've become intrigued by a photo of 'Autumn Joy' Sedum grown as a low hedge that I noticed in Tracy DiSabato-Aust's book, The Well-Tended Perennial Garden. My cluster gets a bit leggy from not enough sun, but if I move it and pinch it back, perhaps I too can have a sorta hedge of it along the front of the house.

Sedum 'Autumn Joy' starting to blush

I mistakenly thought this Catmint was 'Walker's Low' and could not understand why each plant became so HUGE and spread so FAR. While fooling around in that bed, I found the plant tag. Now that I know its true growth habit, I have just the spot for it, around the garden shed.

Catmint 'Six Hills'

As usual, there are lots of plans for next year. I'm antsy to try them out, but FIRST. There is work to do, like weeding the area under the Hydrangea so next spring it can be populated with Bishop's Weed, aka Goutweed. Bishop's Weed can be a bit out of control, but this corner is somewhat isolated and I'm counting on Bishop's Weed's shade loving nature to help keep it in check.

Hydrangea 'Limelight', weeded

I don't quite know what to do about this problem, though. The deck builders did not follow directions to stay within the footprint of the patio slab and extended the deck over the bed with Joe Pye, Cardinal Flower, and Swamp Milkweed. I wrote those plants off, prematurely it seems. It doesn't bother me that they poke up between the boards, so maybe I will just leave them be.

Joe Pye and Cardinal Flower

My granddaughter's interest in photography is rather erratic, so I can't count on her providing me with regular pics of the yard, or much of anything else, for that matter. But then, she is not quite five and still exploring all there is to do and see in the world.

Photo op

Oh, to be young again. (NOT!)

Yard roundup for June

This isn't a comprehensive roundup by any means, but reflects some of what is happening around the yard these days. Besides weeding.

First, the purple smoke bush/tree. Simply stunning this year, but impossible to capture with my camera. Every time I look at it, it takes my breath away.

I wish I had given it a bit more room at the corner of the house, as I don't really want to prune it. Plus I'm not sure how best to shape it. Must research.

I hope these blossoms last a long time.

Next, the butterfly weed. I've tried several times to get this established in my yard, and maybe, just maybe, am finally succeeding.

Good timing, because the butterfly bush bit the dust this past winter. "They" say butterfly bush is not good to plant because it does not provide habitat for the butterflies, but they do like the nectar, so maybe I'll replace it.

Meanwhile, I hope the butterflies visit this plant so I can get some good pix.

Pardon the mess, but this bed is also for butterflies: joe pye, swamp milkweed, and cardinal flower. I wasn't sure they would make it through the winter, but they did. They should be liking our recent wet weather. (That is ground cherry in those two pots. They are not thriving, not sure why.)

I keep threatening to move this 'Love Pat' hosta because every year, it disappears behind some out-of-control black eyed Susan. I just can't decide where to move it. Meanwhile, it perseveres. A friend gave it to me, and every time I look at it, I think of him. I guess that is the true purpose of gifts - to keep each other in our thoughts.

These two 'Big Daddy' hostas were moved around quite a bit before finding their current home behind the kitchen compost bin. They don't like the sun at all, so this location suits them well.

I planted this tulip tree in 2009, I think. It's the state tree of Indiana, has never bloomed, is not valued by those who like their trees to provide bling, but I like it. Someday it will provide the West Wing with some lovely shade.

I went through an ornamental grass phase, which I seem to be over for the most part, but my fondness for sedum continues strong. This 'Purple Emperor' is a tall one and the blossoms remind me of hens and chicks.

'Angelina' is a spreader, which I am grateful for because it will help me in my battle with weeds. (That's 'Dragon's Blood' on the left.)

More transients: I have moved the asiatic lilies and daylilies around a lot, too. The most recent transplants like their new west-facing home. (They bloomed the day after I took this pic.)

These corner plantings are also happy. There is 'Clara Curtis' painted daisy to the right. This has become my new problem-solution plant. I moved some to the bed by the front walk and it prospered, so much so it was crowding out everything else. So I tore it out and have been placing it in strategic spots around the yard where it can spread to its heart's content.

I don't know what I was thinking when I bought these three plants, one Alberta spruce conica and two juniper chinensis. They were an impulse purchase, made during a particularly manic spring (Must. Buy. Plants.) Getting them into the ground required the assistance of my SO and his upper body strength. I don't particularly like them. BUT. They are flourishing. I'd like to find a complementary ground cover to fill in the blanks, something the birds would like. (The corner clematis are 'Betty Corning'.)

Here is another rescue. Several years ago, I was looking for winterberry. The nursery I was at didn't have any, but the sales guy suggested some holly (Ilex x meserveae 'Blue Princess' and 'Blue Prince') as an alternative. Without researching this option, I bought four plants and stuck them under the arborvitae, hoping they would like the shade and fill in the area all around. Ha. Turns out this particular holly likes sun, lots of sun. So this year I am starting a relocation program for them. This is the first one to be brought out into the light.

And that is all, for now.