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.