bees and blooms

We all got our hands sticky at the Roots to Harvest Urban Beekeeping course on Tuesday evening. I'm not sure Adam will forgive me for sharing this photo of him all around, but I think it looks cool - we were all mesmerized by the bees, studying their combs, social order, and coordination. I absolutely love this - everyone should take this course.

I've decided next summer will be bee summer. At first, as I learned more about everything involved, I thought new bees and a new baby might be too much..., but, if I delay for reasons like that we'll never get bees. By the time the bees come baby and I will have had time to get to know one another, and establish some sort of routine. We'll start small, with two brood boxes and a stack of one or two honey stackers - I'll sort that out with Barry (Bears'Bees&Honey)

the bee hives at
Roots to Harvest
Cornwall & Algoma Garden

busy bees

Now known as the "bee garden" the adopted garden at the back of the yard now makes sense to me. It's already wild and mature, with enough small empty spaces for me to add some simple wildflowers for the bees. It's half covered by the Norway Maples nearby, and will have even more tree coverage when we plant a couple apple trees along the back fence on Finn's birthday this year. The garden will still get all day afternoon sun along the south side, which is what the bees need.

There are some purple/dark blue delphiniums near the centre of the bed that are blooming like idiots right now. Next year they'll be staked. Also in the bee garden: Stella De Oro who is taking up enormous space, desperately needs dividing, but we'll see if I ever get around to that.., some irises, a whole bunch of hostas, some Lady's Mantle, two things I'm blanking on, and a couple of lilies here and there. In spring there were some orange tulips, which I will add to with some other early bloomers.

I imagine the space looking like a wildflower garden - tall, kind of crazy, colourful, and every changing. The bees will love it. 

In other garden update news:

The backyard garden, which consists of the two beds nearest the house and shack. The peanut shaped bed already had a nicely shaped Catone aster, and the lime leafed spirea (which has been covered in bumble bees every day as it flowers). I've added bee balm and rhubarb, mother of thyme and ajuga around the rock and lamp post, two daylilies: 'Pizza Crust' and 'Anzac', a hosta under the Catone aster (can't remember the name right now), a dwarf Goat's Beard, and a Lady's Mantle. There's still a lot more space in that bed - and a dog problem.

      

The bed nearest the house remains empty - we haven't even topped it with triple mix yet. It is going to take me years to fill these beds. They're huge. For now, we left the caragana near the door, and the upright juniper near the dining room window. There's a peony to be planted near that, and 'Golden Celebration (David Austin rose) to go near the side door. I sort of wish we could turn this into a decorative vegetable, herb, and perennial bed (leave lots of empty spaces for annual food)..., but it's visited by too many dogs - who aren't even thwarted by ugly bright orange flagging tape. We'll have to wait and see how this one grows.

Under the Hawthorns, the lilies have bloomed. I'm not entirely crazy about them, which is why I like them. I never would have chosen these, it's a colour that is missing in my gardens, and I think they will compliment anything I add. They're bold and bright in the shaded Hawthorn garden. 

watching things grow

I'll admit, I had no real appreciation for Hawthorn trees before now. I've never examined one up close before.
A row of three Hawthorns grow along our north fence. They're a bit of a mess, in desperate need of a pruning, which I'll do a little of in the autumn, and maybe some more come spring. It will take a few years to prune them without harm.
Their flowers come out a pale pink nearly white and slowly turn a delicate deep pink. The glossy emerald leaves fill in all around - they're gorgeous.

Beneath the Hawthorns is another mystery garden bed. I don't remember much that was in it from viewing the house last year - other than noting that I was going to be filling in a lot of gaps. For now I'm just watching things grow, documenting who takes up how much space. I don't think I'm going to move anything, certainly not remove anything - it's all beautiful. It's mostly filled with lilies - nearly blooming, which will tell me a lot more..., and some irises.

irises under the Hawthorns
backyard adopted garden
4 July 2014

Peeking between the irises and lilies are sweet baby pink marguerites (at least I think that's what to call them). I adore daisy flowers, and these little pink babies made my day. They're tangled in a few weeds, but I'm less tempted to do a clean sweep on the beds - these have to stay.

Watching things grow, watching things wilt in nursery containers because I have no energy to plant anything...that seems to be the theme of planting season this year. Its amazing how as women we so easily forget the challenges of pregnancy (and morning sickness, and labour...). I knew I'd feel lousy, I forgot how tired I'd be. 

The few plants I have to plant get shuffled around - pregnancy brain has also wiped out my ability to clearly think about my plan - if there ever was a plan.. Unlike the detailed and well thought out plans I provide for others, my own garden is a little more, uh, haphazardly planned.., I sort of know what I want to see, and there are certain plants that I know belong - where exactly, I'm not sure. 

The beds are so big that even in planting in threes is still seems so sparse, and I'm trying to imagine large members who haven't even been bought yet - I'm still looking for at least two more Hansa roses, a Therese Bugnet rose for beside the front door, a yellow peony..., so I'm drawing circles in the sand and trying to imagine five years from now, and what size everyone will be then.

If I was working at full capacity this would be a breeze, but I'm exhausted nauseated and more mentally distracted than I had anticipated. The emotional toll of being pregnant in the midst of the saddest grief is hard to manage. It's not uncommon for pregnant women to have vivid dreams, but this pregnancy has also made my day dreams more vivid - my flashbacks and visions of Finn, it's all so close now.  

I've seen baby twice on screen, heard the heartbeat three times, and still I'm having a hard time believing. I think I'll feel a lot better when I start to feel baby moving around in there. I'm 11 weeks pregnant now, and baby is measuring right on track. There's no reason not to believe this baby will be with us forever. It just seems like forever waiting to have this baby in my arms. 

From the moment I found out about this little one I've felt the need to document everything. The apps on my phone already track weekly photos, and I've been subtly public about it from the beginning. I can't disguise my emotional roller coaster, and if there was ever a time I need my friends' support it's now. This baby is so loved and wanted, people around the world are praying and wishing, cheering on every milestone. It all means so much to my broken heart, and helps with the believing.    

empty beds and new beginnings

It's been a slow process with me functioning at less than half power, and unable to do any of the heavy lifting, but thanks to Edie (and Lewis) and The Lawn Barber (for shrub removal), and my Bill Martin's landscaping crew (for turning the beds), finally the gardens around the house and under the oak tree are empty of boring shrubs and ready to plant. 

Last weekend Rohan did the manual labour and planted a number of things we've had waiting, (then replanted them after I decided I wasn't happy with my first choice of locations). We're on hold until we can get some more triple mix into the beds - especially Finn's garden, which is very rocky and dry. It's not the worst soil, but not the best..., a little amendment never hurts. 

I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do with this small oval under the caragana near the driveway. Maybe just some thymes for cover. The caragana actually stands nicely on its own, and soon enough we'll have a vegetable garden not far away.

Under the oak tree is the largest space - approximately 18 x 16 feet. Closest to the pea shrub along the south side is where I want to plant a row of Hansa roses, my mother's favourite. They get big, and might eventually be able to take over those boring pea shrubs. My hope is that their scent will sweep along with the lake wind and fill our whole yard with my mother's childhood memories of the roses along the Massachusetts beaches. 

Tulips in spring, daylilies of summer, sedums and coneflowers in autumn among many others will move into this space. I'm curious as any to watch it develop.  

The work in progress around the back side of the house is also going to be a development over time. Peonies, foxgloves, liatris, monarda, shasta daisies and who knows who else. I haven't mapped anything - well, I have, then it changes, and changes again..., so I think I'll just have to wait and see. 

We've already added the Tinkerbelle lilac on standard tucked in behind the ninebarks, giving a little extra height to the side garden. A Flowering Almond and Southerland's Gold Elder and Jude the Obscure David Austin Rose are in near the cedar. Behind the cedar tucked close to the door we planted a Vancouver Sea Breeze Clematis, which so far looks to be thriving. I really hope it takes because the blooms in photos I've seen are the sweets shade of pale blue, and I'd love to see that each time I step out that door.
More roses, Mordens for sure, a bird bath and butterfly flowers will fill in the spaces. And a hummingbird feeder outside the window...
I'm liking this garden already.

Along the south side of the yard there is no garden..., yet. I've dug a small bit, and will continue bit by bit until I reach the back lane. Dr. Ballantyne used to plant impatiens along here, which I'll continue tucked under the hostas, pulmonaria, astilbe, goat's beard, tiarella, bleeding hearts, and solomon seal along with the existing ferns. This one will take years to establish, but the end result will be a lush line of shade plants weaving along the fence.

Dear Garden Diary,

I've finally had to break down and hire a landscaper to take the shrubs out. I offered them free for weeks, and only one person came. A few will go next door, Edie and Katie will take some to redo their hedge line, and Marie's sister Leeann will take a whole group to start her new yard. I'm happy they're being saved, and finding homes with good people. As much as I wanted to rip this garden out, I can't just go around killing perfectly good shrubs.

As for what I'm going to plant and where ...that's a good question. I know what I want, I'm just in the process of making sure I place things as best as I can for these wacky top of the ridge weather conditions. Wind, again, is going to dictate this garden more than I like..., sigh, but there's not much I can do. Strategic planting, the buddy system, that's what I'm counting on.
A couple of lilac have followed me home recently after a conversation with Anne next door lamenting the loss of the lilac grove in the lot behind which was once Dr. Ballantyne's garden. Apparently before the McMansion was built no thought was put into preserving the lilacs, so they were all mashed before anyone could save a few. I'll never understand that kind of "development"..

The destruction of mature trees to build and plant new trees was the theory yelled at me - literally yelled at me, by Rajni A when I called to ask why the condo development next to Maplecrest Tower was taking down mature trees on the Maplecrest side of the property line. She insisted they were on the side of the new condos (which they weren't), and that they were "in the way." It didn't matter to her - absolute ignorance to how long it takes to grow a mature tree, or to develop natural green spaces in urban areas. We should be preserving them, building around them, not destroying them in the process. I don't understand the mentality of developers in this city.
Rajni went on to tell me how beautiful these condos would be, and how the landscaping would improve the view.. (yes, because un-naturally placed leafless trees, and shrubs from nurseries really compare to mature evergreens). She said, "you just wait, in a few years it will be gorgeous." ...completely self centered and thoughtless... my mother didn't have "a few years" and in the meantime her tranquil view was destroyed. Rajni and the developer were completely self serving. I don't like those kind of people.

So, along with roses, Dr. Ballantyne's garden will come back to this space with lilacs - Madame Lemoine (a double flowering white), Tinkerbelle (pink, and a weird hybrid standard at that- so unlike me), and of course a few Beauty of Moscow (white-pinkish). I've also learned from a neighbour (um, can't remember his name...) that Dr. B used to plant impatiens all along the south end of the property. Though I have plans to add a border bursting with lush shade plants, at their feet will be impatiens, as it should be.

dear garden diary,

sunrise
10 May 2014

sunset
10 May 2014

From under our oak tree, the tree I see when I close my eyes, I've been creeping around watching things grow. Tulips are appearing, maybe some Lili of the Valley too..., not entirely sure who else. In the back - in the garden bed we're removing entirely to make way for dogs and two wind-breaking, privacy giving blue spruce - I'm finding hostas, daylilies, and maybe iris(?) but it's soon soon and cold for them to identify themselves. They'll all be relocated somewhere along the south border.

From under the oak I also find a great view of the harbour, the park, and our Wild Thing trees. As I began writing this post I was staring out the window, watching a man walk with a skip in his step across the park and as he passed the Wild Thing he tapped one tree then backtracked a bit to tap the other. Saying hello? 

Who else loves those trees as much as I do?

This is the May of April showers. The few nice days we've had have turned out backyard and shack into a garden in progress. Plants and pots everywhere, bags of planting mixes heaped on the back wall, tools leaning. It's beginning to look less like someone else's boring shrub garden and more like Amy's natural disaster. GRIN

Saturday was a good day in the midst of misery. An enormous number of plants followed us home from lunch, and I can't even be entirely blamed (Rohan is as bad as I am so long as he can eat it).

The evening that followed found me laughing hysterically with Cathy and Lori as the sun set, then sitting fireside with my best friend and best love until midnight. Warm enough to stay in flip-flops, cool enough to want to add leg-warmers to my ensemble.

What all this time outdoors has taught me is that wind may be a bigger problem than I had anticipated. It can be wild. When it dies down the air here is fresh, it has never felt settled - there are just too many places for it to swirl around, over and through. I'll have to make sure everybody has a buddy, a plant to lean on, you know. 

I spent today planting in a cold wind and a bit of drizzle a few feet from the fire pit:

russian sage 'peek-a-boo blue'

virginia bluebells

scabiosa 'butterfly blue

carpet phlox 'sapphire blue'

aster 'wonder of staffa' (blue)

clematis 'sea breeze (blue)

liatris 'purple blazing star'

lilac 'beauty of moscow'

echinacea 'emotion bright orange' and 'marmalade'

agapanthus 'blue globe'

achillea millefollium - yarrow 'red beauty'

anchusa azurea 'dropmore'

anemone hupehensis 'praecox'

lilium 'strawberry vanilla'

The pot of enormous size that lives in the corner of the patio was there when we bought the house, and I'm undecided about leaving it there. For now, for lack of a better idea it will stay (and because it's too damn heavy for anyone to move..). I've seeded a bunch of gourds and miniature pumpkins that should be strong enough to climb from the pot over the obelisk, and maybe strong enough to withstand the wind. We shall see.... 

Dear Garden Diary

I could go on without a computer, and I could even lose my camera, but I could never let go of a sharp pencil and a notebook. Long before digital photography and garden blogs I had my garden journals, and they are still where I do my best thinking. Drawing the landscape and doodling gardens is the best way to visualise plans...

...Photoshop works too. 

It's been hard for me to draw beds that I don't remember very well. I took some photos last year, but not enough - and not while I was thinking 'garden'. Not knowing how much space I have doesn't really matter right now..., they'e big enough beds and I think I can fill 'em (of course I can fill them)

Moving from Pearl (divided or taken whole): ligularia, all adopted daylilies (red, peach, yellow - unknown), geranium *Wargraves Pink, John Davis Explorer Rose, Therese Bugnet rose, Morden Blush rose, Morden Sunrise rose, rudbeckia, stronecrop *Autumn Fire, hostas (of course), tiarella, pulmonaria, irises, peonies x 2, ...um, ..more...

To be added: roses (already mentioned), joe-pye weed, liatris x a few, cone flowers, heliopsis, annual butterfly weed & evening primrose (if they survive a few seasons hooray), heath aster (small white, various other asters, various stone crop, lemon trillium :), ...and who knows what else...

A bird's eye view of this bed is really what is needed to display the haphazardness of shrubs and marigolds - oh and some individually planted cosmos completely frail in the wind.. It's pretty much all going to go. The Oak tree (my favourite) deserves better company. 

Photoshop doodling, imagining those Hansa roses building a (maintained) hedgeline, a mix of sun a shade plants tolerating the changing light from morning to night, ....there are still bare spots in this doodle which are easy enough to fill..., I just wish I had a better sense of space right now.

I'd like to find a Double River Wye daylily (my favourite), which I had years ago, but for some reason never took with me..., or lost along the way.

All of this reminds me of the front garden transformation at Pearl. :)

The south facing side of the house is..., um, ...crazy. The Virginia Creeper has swallowed the house, and though it needs a good haircut it is also a giant birds' nest condominium. This needs to be done carefully. I have no idea how.

I don't want to lose the creeper, I like it..., I even like it swallowing the house. Maintenance is all that's needed. 

As for the two shrubs with a red x mark, ...sorry... they don't even understand what they're doing there. Random round green balls. 

The star marks line the new path we're considering putting in. It became apparent right away that people will always being walking around back to find us - in the shack or otherwise, especially in summer. Having a path added to the existing lockstone will al so enable us (Rohan) to clear it in winter. (Aussie man loves his snowblower...). I've given myself a few extra inches of garden bed against the path to allow for low growing perennials - oooo, and maybe some creeping thyme and smelly things to walk on. 

The first step, as with any garden..., is the soil.., and good grief the soil in these beds is horrible.

This is a view of the little kidney shaped bed outside the shack. Rocks, dandelions, marigold bundles, and a clump of cosmos. For all the efforts in renovating the house, this took me by surprise. Sigh. This garden needed me. 

I know I can't physically do the work, so I'm counting on Bill and the team to turn this over and top it up with some compost and manure mixes. Once the soil is taken care of in these beds (front under the Oak, along the south fence, front east-south face of the house, the weird kidney bed by the shack, ...and the small areas on the north side of the house... That - is what I'm going to tackle this year. That and planting a tree or two in the back (one bare spot)..

...should keep me busy..

photographs and found treasures

The last few boxes surrounding my desk in the basement are in the process of being unpacked. Finally.
Most of what's left are boxes of photos that need to be dealt with properly, organized, and put in albums - I've slowly been compiling everything for that project..., which I'm actually really looking forward to doing.
Family suddenly has a whole new context, and our photographed story from my father as a child in Holland, my mother as a kindergarten teacher, my sister and I growing up, our weddings, our children... is something worth telling properly.

This morning was spent sulking, feeling sorry for myself, emotional, unable to even look at Finn's photos. I miss him so much. Some times(days, hours, minutes, moments) I'm able to hold it together, others ..not so much. I think I'm learning when to take a step back... let the grief do what it has to do.

There are times I can't read other grief stories, I can't bear how much I relate to them.., other times I can't tear myself away. Today I found my way to Mitchell's Journey, unable to look away from his father's story.
He speaks and writes beautifully of his son, but most important to me is the photographic story - and what he says about the importance of being a "paparazzi" in your children's lives.

I felt terribly guilty for dangling my iPhone over Finn from the moment we were reunited after his birth. The convenience of being able to take decent photos with a gadget that fits in the palm of my hand was too easy, and even more easy to share instantly with family and friends. I kept telling myself to live in the moment and put the camera down, but I didn't.
How grateful am I now that I have dozens of photos of him - photos in every outfit, at every time of day - and night, in the sunshine, with the dogs, by the fire, outdoors, indoors..., I captured every minute I could. Without those photos now - where would I be? From his growth inside me, to his precious ten+ days, I have it all on digital files, saved forever.

(Due to the mother-daughter code photos shared of Hannah must be approved by her - and for the most part they haven't been since "teen" was added to her age. ...but that doesn't mean I don't take them, save them, and have them all at hand.)

Chris Jones' story is important for another reason - as a father's journey through grief. His words are poignant, thoughtful and not held back by any tough exterior. I think it's often hard for father's to express themselves; Rohan has said a number of times how difficult it is to 'be the man' in this situation, hold it all together.. (...in those early days I don't know how he did it, while I lay motionless). So much of child loss and parental grief is focussed on mothers and how mothers cope. A father's perspective isn't something we've come across much, and certainly not one this beautiful.

Among the photographs and boxes of important things I don't know what to do with, I found some odds and ends of my mother's, some she intentionally left for me with messages scribbled on the envelopes, others just random things I ended up with - notes, drafts, notebooks she kept records in (she kept records of everything).
In a faded grey folder I came across a photocopy of pages from Dinah Shields & Edwina von Baeyer's book A Beginner's Guide to Gardening in Canada.

(von Baeyer's Rhetoric and Roses and Garden Voices being among my favourite garden reads..)

My mother's handwriting (in red pen - she must have been grading papers at the time) dates it 1992 ...
I know in the early 2000's she took a course or two in personal landscaping, hoping to do something pretty with her new construction home & garden - the work for which was put in me as hard labourer. She still didn't have a clue, but her determination was expressed clearly through likes and dislikes over my work. I am still being punished for planting purple (her least favourite colour) delphiniums in her front garden. (I thought they were blue..)
Though her enthusiasm for outdoor gardening may have been underwhelming, her indoor garden was always something spectacular. Also in the faded grey folder, a little pencil written note pulled from one of her many notebooks - on sprouting and growing avocados. My childhood memories of windowsills are not without a small glass of water with an avocado seed balanced on toothpicks half way in water, half exposed. I can't possibly imagine how many avocado plants she grew. I don't think any of them ever grew an avocado, but her plants were gorgeous.

Isn't it something that my mother the reluctant gardener was the first inspiration in my plans for our new garden.

Her Hansa rose will be among the first additions, but I've also just ordered some David Austin roses, a little tender here, but worth it even if for only one season. In my first garden I planted Winchester Cathedral - simply because I loved the fragrance of the blooms, even in the pot at the nursery. It wasn't until it was planted and I introduced it to my mother that she told me of how her and my father watched the changing of the bells at the real Winchester Cathedral while on a belated honeymoon (I think my dad was at a conference and my mother tagged along, but they called it a honeymoon... *academics*).
Ordered today is a new Winchester Cathedral, Golden Celebration, Graham Thomas, Jude the Obscure, and Lady of Shalott.
They're all of the hardier Davis Austin roses (famous for old world style and fragrance), but still considered somewhat tender here. I'm willing to take my chances. I'm eyeing up the sunny beds nearest the house for these, but that would involve the removal of boring shrubs..., which is a lot of work.

I see a lot of shuffling in our garden's future. The Reluctant Gardener pages my mother focused on were shrubs: flowering almonds, ninebark, burning bush... all of which are interesting, and worth considering for spots in this garden as well.

Rhetoric and Roses: A History of Canadian Gardening, 1900-1930
Edwinna Von Baeyer 1984
ISBN-10: 0-88902-983-0
ISBN-13: 978-0-88902-983-5

Garden Voices: Two Centuries of Canadian Garden Writing
Edwina Von Gal, Edwinna Von Baeyer, Pleasance Crawford 1995
ISBN-10: 0-394-22428-0
ISBN-13: 978-0-394-22428-2

Reluctant Gardener: A Beginner's Guide To Gardening In Canada 
Hoel Cooper, Edwinna Von Baeyer, Dinah Shields 1992
ISBN-10: 0-394-22233-4
ISBN-13: 978-0-394-22233-2

back at it...

It didn't take long for me, once I smelled the soil and spotted the plug trays, to want to get to planting..., and the day it was set up us die-hards were there at the planting table. It's the only part of the greenhouse season I can't miss out on - the first in years being last year at this time, when my mother was in hospice. I feel disjointed if I don't plant.
I don't mind the cold temperatures of January and February because they usually come with bright sunny days, and crystal clear starry nights. March and April are often dreary, dirty, damp, cold, and generally miserable. To spend those two months surrounded by warm soil under a blue sky roof - who could complain?

The last thing I expected to do this year was be back at work. I knew I would plant, and "hang around".... but, commitment wasn't something I was entertaining. It turns out I just don't know how to sit still, no matter what is holding me down.

Euphorbia graminea ~ Diamond Frost

Grief - of this kind especially, is defeating. There isn't a day, a moment, a conversation, a thought, that passes without Finn heavily on my mind. As much as it weighs on me I've come to conclude it also gives me strength. In a strange sense, I've never felt more empowered. I'm all too aware that worse could happen, the tension in my gut won't let that go - but, there aren't too many lower lows than what I've experienced in the past year.

I'm still standing.

The clarity that comes with the energy of being in the greenhouse again has helped in so many ways. My focus on our new garden is pretty clear; I even know how we're going to solve the new-garden-no-vegetable-bed problem so that once outdoor planting weather finally arrives I'll have some place to get my seeds dirty. (stay tuned)

I've already decided to focus on the trees, learning about our new trees, pruning and disease concerns of our new trees, adding birdhouse and feeders to the yard, dividing/moving/transplanting favourite perennials from Pearl, moving/transplanting favourites from around the new garden beds, and the addition of rose bushes.

The rose bushes I add this year will fill our yard with my mother's favourite childhood scent thanks to the wind sweeping across the Port Arthur Ridge to and from Lake Superior. By autumn I hope the yard will display some sort of transformation from bland to beautiful, useful, prosperous, and fruitful.

My father's scientific mind, my mother's artful eye, and my precious son's energy are a part of everything I do now. They'll grow in ways their bodies couldn't, and my only hope is that what comes of it makes a positive impact on the small parts of this earth I can help.

Dear Garden Diary,

Rows are being planted... The photo above was taken a few days ago. The first row is peas - since then I've added bird netting to the poles for the pea tendrils to climb. The next row will be leeks, which I will bring home from the greenhouse soon. Next to that I've planted beets, then a double row of carrots. Beans run along the curve of the fence.

Peas and beans are in easy reach for dog treats. :)

The west side garden is coming up nicely. Geraniums are full, hostas are peeking through, irises are sturdy. This year I'm dotting pots of butter yellow petunias around to compliment the blues and pinks that are planted in abundance.

I've also added a "swan yellow & pink" Aquilegia to the west side beside the house. I'll never get enough of these dainty flowers.

In other garden news, Claire has found her way under the back steps (by stomping across newly planted lavender and osteospermum. It's hard to get mad at someone so cute.

R might be closing the steps sooner than expected. ;)

Dear Garden Diary

Morning Glory
at Bill Martin's Nurseryland

I adopted one these established morning glory plants (the one I photographed in fact) not knowing what I'd do with it.. but I couldn't resist. I brought one to my mother's last year and tried to train it along her balcony. It didn't like it there; the wind there was too strong - but I have to give the little vine credit, it tried. 

I gave Laura my favourite blue delphiniums yesterday after admitting (finally) to myself that we simply

don't have the space for them in our garden. Perhaps my clematis will now have enough room to ..you know, grow. I thought the blue of the morning glories will make up for the lack of blue delphiniums. I planted them inside the vegetable bed to ramble along the fence.

I'd like to waddle on down to the greenhouse now - there are things I need: bird netting to train the peas on, more string, sunflower seeds ...[I will not have sunflower envy this year gazing down and across at Laura's garden.), ..and of course, more flowers.

I could be helping - making cuttings, maybe even planting a bit..., but my back oh my back is so incredibly sore. I've gone from sitting in a hospital room around the clock to trying to catch up on garden work, and making up for household neglect.., not to mention nesting syndrome is in full bloom. I want to do everything, but my watermelon belly says no.

my watermelon baby
23.5 weeks

The greenhouse smells great, especially the vegetable and herb greenhouse. We've already adopted Grape and Early Girl tomato plants, still needing a Roma and maybe another. I'm trying so hard to keep the garden at a manageable level this year, and only plant what we will use (so we're not giving away boxes of tomatoes on our front step every second day). They'll all live in the small vegetable bed beside the porch - a hot bed, and most protected space in the yard. I'm expecting a glorious crop. 

Thanks to the addition of a towering herb planter, most of this year's herb garden is already under-way,  leaving a little more space in the bed. Other than oodles of basil I don't think we need any more herbs. Some lavender varieties are waiting to be added here and there - for the bees.

garlic chives, osteopermum, Munstead Lavender
and me
in the small vegetable bed

Our asparagus is coming up. They're the first to rise in the large vegetable bed. I'm so excited to eat them. I haven't quite settled on a plan for this year's large vegetable bed, and I'm beginning to assume it's just going to come together as I plant. Two rows of peas are now in, beans to follow, carrots and beets too. We need kale and cucumbers, and some space reserved for a zucchini mound. The cucumbers I plan to train skyward again - that worked well last year as a small space saver. This will be my first year with this garden without interruption. I'll be too far along with this pregnancy to travel to Australia this year, and though my heart is broken over that I'm happy to have the time to dedicate to the garden. Hopefully I can keep it under control.

happy pansies
at Bill Martin's Nurseryland

Dear Garden Diary,

my one and only sunflower
and Thunbergia

Lately when I spy on Laura's garden two fences away I am spied on back by dozens of sunflower faces. They're incredible and I'm more than a little garden-jealous. I have one - one sunflower ...I know I planted more seeds than one. That's just the way a garden grows sometimes. 

Laura's flowers have had me thinking..., next year's garden is going to have more spring, late summer & autumn flowers. Considering the seasons of garden we enjoy the garden most - planting season and fresh returns, and later reaping the harvest, the lushness of mature plants and vines gone wild....

I'm not going to spend too much time on mid-summer plants, little reason seeing as we're not here - but plan for when we return. In pots the ivy still looks nice long after annual blooms have faded, and the Coleus container is still brilliant. In the garden I have plans for a big cull; as sad as it makes me, I have to reconcile my desire for every favourite perennial and use the space more wisely. The delphiniums just have to go...somewhere, maybe the west side, maybe into the back lane...but as much as I love them, they are just too big. I had considered moving them to the little micro-climate garden by the back porch, but I have plans for tomatoes there next year - and delphiniums are too prone to mildew to have close to the tomatoes. I have some 'Crazy Daisy' Shasta Daisies also needing a better home - so we'll just have to see where the shuffle takes them. Also moving, (even if just a few inches): the Crimson Knautia, that weird mystery rose from Creekside that never really grew - to make room for the Monarda to shuffle over a bit. Once they're all moved and replanted (which I will do some time in October) I'll add in some spring tulips - a rainbow of colours and kinds dotting the east side perennial bed.

I wish we had more space. Every zucchini and cucumber we have grown (and still are growing) has been put to great use. I've only given a couple away... We've eaten a lot of zucchini (soup, bread, cake, muffins, more soup, grilled, in frittata, tossed with pasta... and you know what, I'm not even tired of it and excited there are some nice ones still coming. The cucumbers are the best I've ever grown - sweet, juicy, huge. I've made more tzatziki than we could consume, and the dogs have had their favourite treat fresh from the garden for months now. Sadly, with frost nearing I'll let them enjoy today's rain, and harvest soon..

Precious Claire waits patiently for a fresh bean treat.

The beans (also loved by the dogs) are so tasty, and have grown into a sturdy wall. Even the Grape Tomato is using the bean wall for support. The other tomatoes have suffered a bit from crowding and smothering by wild zucchini. As unmanageable as they can be, we can't have a garden without cucumbers and zucchini. Next year we're simply not going to plant so many vegetables. I know, I know...I'm the worst for it - working in greenhouses doesn't help. A plant addict to the end, R's not help either. I'm always so convinced I can find the room - and though I still stand by my claim that if we were here for the garden during the major growing period in July & August we would be able to train it to survive the crowd, the fact is we leave ...and a garden doesn't like being left.

It's easy enough to supplement through flexible CSA programs, I have to remember that. Our garden's size is perfect for a seasonal kitchen garden - not great for large guys like Brussels sprouts and potato plants. I could leave them out for more space and not miss them much. More use could be made of containers, sacks, and balconies, but again - unattended pots in a ridiculously hot back yard don't have the best survival rates. I leave spinach to the local farms also..I never have luck with spinach *shrug* 

Our leeks are beautiful, and even though the beets and carrots are few in number they're still pretty. 

Garden Soup
leeks, zucchini, kale, onions & beans from our garden
local carrots & Ontario celery

The Thunbergia has reached the railing of the back balcony, at more than 15 feet it's glorious and so reminiscent of what I've seen decorating Californian freeways. It seems indestructible and I think it scares my family. At ground level it is creeping in every direction, tendrilling up posts and hooks left around the garden, attaching to the nearby pots trellises. I'm not stopping it. I can't imagine not having one of these again next year - just too fun.
The micro-climate garden by the porch has only a few permanent residents: John Davis, some crazy chamomile, garlic chives and whatever thyme & lavender survive (they always get replanted if winter snuffs them out). Snowbirds include herbs rosemary, tarragon, and sage, mint in pots, this year some lemon verbena too. I can see a Thunbergia becoming a regular too.
This year is was home to ten foot tall peas. Next year, I'll plant only two tomatoes in the space - early (...with R's construction skills we're planning a removable greenhouse contraption), and keep the rest of the space for tall autumn cutting flowers. We can add basil between, and with all the other herbs I think that would make the space quite nice this time next year. :)