Gardening?

Gardening. I do think about it, and what I might do with this new yard of ours. I think that in about twenty-five years we'll have established, somewhat, a garden carefully planted and sort of sustainable. These things always change, as we know.

I'd like to know more about the history of the yard. I know that Dr. Ballantyne kept a rose garden in the NE corner... that is something worth researching.

The current arrangement is ...weird. No, not weird... it's as if someone used some kind of landscape software that mechanically plunked perfectly shaped perfectly boring shrubs in a perfectly boring pattern. Yeah, it looks nice, neat... too neat. Definitely not the jungle style of amygardenerd's blazed trail of past gardens around town.

The only thing that is good about it, in my mind...is very good - the trees. I'm in love with every tree on this property. Again, somebody carefully planned the planting of these trees, but this time I approve. A few maples, a very busy Mountain Ash, and that oak tree out front that has been the focus of my meditation when I'm trying to remind myself to breathe. In spring I'll start documenting them, start doodling some more maps of our outdoor space. I've never had so many trees - so many beautiful trees - to be responsible for, which makes me feel a little bit excited.

The trees are all nicely placed - with the exception of a little scraggly (ash?) out front. See, I really don't know my trees well enough. I have to get better at that. In autumn their colours put on a flawless performance, everyone in tune and complimenting the seat next to them. Spring should be just as good. Understandable how Vivaldi was inspired.

I'm going to call on Urban Greenscapes and the local plantcycle to help find new homes for any shrubs that are removed. Because I'm not entirely sure what the plan is yet - or even a semi plan, or a clue.. I'm not going to do any massive transformation of any bed. There are enough open spaces in the existing beds - large spaces that were filled (dotted perfectly) with yellow marigolds and random wispy cosmos unable to stand up in the wind up here on the hill.
I have photos somewhere of the perfect grids of marigolds, but I really don't want to face my photos folder right now - I'll did those up someday for a laugh.

I've been meaning to call Laura (hi..) .. I'm hoping she can help me with some division and relocation. There are some plants (okay, a lot of plants) at Pearl that I want to have, but I also want to preserve what's there. There are a lot of friends who could use a good division or quartering (that sounds horrible) - and if I could face the house maybe we could organize a plant sale.. *shrug*...
I really don't think I'll be able to go back there until I can see the house full with another family. That awful swirling dizzy feeling swooshes over me and through my body when I think of the air that morning, the last time I was there....the trees, Heather wishing congratulations through Rohan's driver side window as we raced off to the hospital in labour with Finn. The last time I was there, Finn was still safe inside me.
I don't want to see the house empty. Everything about it confuses my memory-reality-mixup in my head - was I really pregnant? Did all that really happen?
I can't go back to the house. Not now...I don't know when..

I'm going to bring my John Davis rose, of course, ...though I don't know where to put him yet. This new space isn't going to be as kind to him as his current space. The problem is, his current space is almost a little too kind, and he can get a little carried away. A garden person/family may not mind, but I suspect most people don't want long reach thorny branches poking into their back door.
It's a lot cooler up here, and the damn wind is effing ...windy.. I'm going to swear a lot about the wind I suspect.
I'm hoping to use roses around the yard as an extra barrier to keep critters both in and out. I'll take Marie Bugnet from Pearl too - I know nobody wants all those teeny thorns. I don't mind the thorns - they can be useful. There's that Morden Sunrise rose (still in his pot, I believe) and Morden Blush, neither very useful but definitely pretty. Front garden beds? They'll have to be tucked in somewhere warm against the house to survive up here.

New rose bushes with replace some of the boring shrubs, big ones, fragrant ones - the ones that remind me of my mother because they reminded her of the beaches of Massachusetts where she played as a young girl. Hansa for one, but I know there are others..., I'll find them.

Bigger space, bigger beds... means bigger plants. Dwarf varieties have filled my other gardens, this one is going to get some big guns. Solomon's Seal, Goat's Beard, hostas of ridiculous size, they'll all be joining us.

The backyard will be dog run territory - literally - enough space for them to truly run. That was another of the many reasons we wanted this house. How do you reconcile a love for dogs, gardens, family space, and still live downtown in walking distance to all the good stuff and the lake? Space was a big issue for us.
Before we moved in we worried we would alienate all our new neighbours. We'd be those crazy dog people with a poopy yard. Little did we know our new neighbours were worrying the same in reverse. Dog rescues to one side, dogs to the other, dogs behind, dogs down the lane - and as it turn out we have the yard to host them all. It's doggyville up here.
Our dogs are happier than they've ever been. It's like a little Tree Farm out there, complete with wide open spaces, and bushes to hide in to leap out on to your basset brother. They're having fun.
Most of the back yard will always be reserved for dog space (and skating rinks).

I'll keep my gardens closer to home.
You would think with all this space I'd have thought of a good place for some vegetables. I thought I had, but the wind blew that one away. The peanut shaped bed near the sunroom boasts nothing more than a cotone aster and a large rock (we like the rock)..., and not that I have anything against the reliable contone aster..., boring. This guy might keep his spot for the mere reason he's about the only one who can stand up to the wind tunnel that frequently, sometimes violently, blows through there. The marigolds and cosmos certainly didn't like it.
Low growing succulents might like the space - maybe some more rocks.., the pretty amethyst rocks Rohan put in at Pearl.

There's a bed at the back... there's a caragana in the corner, and I recall a bunch of hostas. Not much else.. I didn't look to closely before, so we'll have to see what comes up in spring. That bed would be (possibly) the warmest and most protected for a vegetable bed - but it's so close to dog territory it would be at risk for both the sneaky pea and tomato eating basset hound, but also the icky thought of pee seepage in the soil around it.
Let's keep the food away from that, okay.

I'm probably just going to pillage that bed and turn it over to the dogs.

If anything actually gets done I'll be surprised. I can't seem to get anything done these days. Small steps they all say. Don't get defeated. My body aches, it's sick from the grief, I still can't digest anything, and I'm in knots from being so tense and hunched over crying, I'm all twisted up. Sarah did some pretty wild acupressure yesterday to try to untangle some of the knots, but I think some new, bigger ones developed overnight.

Planting would probably do me some good, and I'm sure I'll find myself back in the back of the greenhouse digging in the dirt at some point. Maybe I'll just go for the ladies, ..at wine-o'clock. Maybe a bit of both. Maybe not at all. I dunno....

I'm just not really sure where to direct my garden thoughts. I've thought often about what Heather said when she was here last week - about her birthday tree planting fundraising. It would be nice to do something similar but in memory of Finn. Heather just wanted to plant a tree, but her friends helped her plant ten - boulevard and public trees, carefully placed near people who will care for them all over Thunder Bay. How nice is that?
I'd like to plant some trees for Finn.

I think this year will be mostly about the trees. Trees and roses. Sounds like a good place to start.

Dear Garden Diary,

Rhodochiton
first bloom
25 June 2012

Okay, I'll say it - I can not find any reference to the above pictured plant being a "Rhodochiton"...; and though it resembles the Lophspermum I know, it's not nearly the same.

If anyone can help explain this plant to me, please...

I'm going to miss this plant when we're away this summer. I've waited so long (it seems) for this first bloom; and with more on the way I suspect the magnificence of this plant is only just beginning.

It's so different from the easily searched Rhodochiton we have blooming profusely in the greenhouse:

Also blooming madly is John Davis beside the back door, twirling up the obelisk. I imagined this thirteen years ago; it;s nice to finally see it.

John Davis Explorer Rose
25 June 2012

There's an awful lot of pink in our garden. I pointed that out to R recently, who didn't seem bothered. Morden Blush is blooming in the west side garden, looking so pretty. I think about this plant when I tell customers at the greenhouse that, yes, roses actually are easy. John Davis regularly attracts the aphids, but Morden roses in my garden have never failed - even in the face of army worms. Just a stone of amethyst away is a chewed to pieces Cranesbill geranium ('Wargraves Pink').

Down the way from the Morden Blush, and across the way, is the Campanula persicifolia 'Blue' (Peach Leaf Bellflower) that I planted last year in the rain. First bloom ever, 25 June 2012. Hello.

Peonies are blooming, the Weigela (Red Prince) too

tucked tight in front are some wild Knautia macedonica (Crimson Scabious),

with our special Alchemilla mollis (Lady's Mantle) blooming below 

in lemon-lime

contrasting all those pinks and reds.

The front shade garden is getting a little crowded (not that there are not still places to fill..). The leafeaters haven't got to the lush foliage street side...yet...hopefully never, and with all the rain and humidity we've had this year the ferns and hostas are large and full.

...from the back door:

pea webs

John Davis, first day of summer

John Davis blooms
21 June 2012
summer solstice

even Claire is in awe
of the height of our John Davis blooms

John Davis

John Davis

1986 Explorer Series Rose

R. kordesii x Red Dawn & Suzanne cross

Taller than me today

19 June 2012

in our kitchen garden.

John Davis 19 May 2012

John Davis Explorer Rose
19 May 2012
long, large & lush

John Davis Explorer Rose

John Davis Explorer Rose
7 July 2011

John Davis the first
my garden 2005

A John Davis Explorer Rose is the first rose I added to my first garden, where he lived happily for seven years (or more?). With me through it all... even tolerating three homes in three years, he survived to live in our garden here for one year...
until last spring, when we decided it was time to say good-bye. "Replaced" just doesn't sound like a nice word here, but that's exactly what happened: John Davis the first was replaced with John Davis the second.

With his clusters of pretty pink he was a favourite of Hannah's when she was younger (when everything had to be pink). I love how the blooms start out a deep shade of pink (in some years John Davis the first appeared almost red) then open up to such a soft pink, showing the yellow stamen inside. It's a delicate flower, and reminds me of a cross between an old fashioned rose and wild dog roses (Rosa canina).

 John Davis the second, in our garden July 2011:

A rambler, being known to reach seven or eight feet, John Davis can be taught to climb. Our John Davis, here in his second year, is doing well nearly reaching the top of the five foot trellis. I'm allowing him to spread out a little along the way, while assisting some stems to wrap themselves around the trellis.
He lives in the corner of our kitchen garden, nearest to the back door, attracting bees, and caring for the garlic below.

John Davis the second
in his second year
6 July 2011

John Davis Explorer Rose from Vesey's

Dear Garden Diary,

In order to better map our garden, and for when I speak of spaces such as "the west side garden", "east garden" I chose to draw what I see from the balcony. The balcony faces south(eastern a bit) and is just off our study steps away from my desk. I sat there yesterday and drew what I saw from the east side by the door, then took some pictures shooting downward.

CLICK TO VIEW

This summer in our backyard the vegetables are finding homes wherever they can; they'll weave through the established perennials, and take up spaced once used by ones lost. We've got one pot crowded with Brussels Sprouts (to torture Hannah); others with jalapeño peppers, purple sage, purple basil snapdragons, verbena, browallia, or nicotina. The potted grape tomato is already thriving (though the other in the largest pot, bush beefsteak, is a little slow but is growing...)

Above: Browallia 'Blue Bells', not yet blooming, near the weside side garden. Behind: Hosta 'Twilight Time'. 

We seem to have a bit of a purple theme this year:

purple dragon carrots

purple sage

purple caspicum

purple basil.

The east garden (named so because it is on the east side of the yard) is what I'm looking forward most to watching grow this season (and next). Between the established plants and trees, some who were planted by W (the pine, the irises, bergenia, juniper and cedar), and some by R (the caragana, and sumac). Together we've now added the Wegeila, and four clematis: 'The President' and 'Niobe' climbing up the fence between the caragana and peonies, and 'Daniel Deronda' and 'Nelly Moser' to grow up and along the dog run fence between the lilac and cedar.

Hannah's basketball  court/ east side dog run

Also climbing the fence: two 'black beauty' zucchini, with some sweet peas scattered here and there. For this to work (to not overcrowd the space) the zucchini has to climb. There's no space for it to ramble because beside it and in front a little is a cucumber 

(there are cucumbers all over the garden this year. Something (or someone) must have compelled us to buy cucumber plants every time we've entered a greenhouse. Not that I've ever had a problem with more plants than space.)

I wouldn't be worried if I wasn't leaving the garden for three weeks in prime growing time...training vines isn't something T, our dog and house sitter, will want to have a crash course in. He's the best dog sitter in the world, but not a gardener. That said, we came to a great garden last year, so he did well for not eating vegetables. Yeah, he doesn't eat vegetables <- that was what he told me when I first told him about the garden; excitedly I told him he's have tomatoes and cucumbers, zucchini and herbs at his fingertips, so to enjoy. That was when he looked at me - sort of scared-like (of my vegetablemania), and said, "I don't eat vegetables." 

"Oh," I said. Ooh. hmm

I've wondered ever since how he survives, but he seems to do well, and loves our dogs and is excited to see them again after a year abroad. So, that is all that matters. That and because he's the cleanest person we have ever known. We (all three of us - even Hannah) marvel at what a strange clean house we returned to; delirious after the backward flight home from Australia, I think we all thought the cleanliness of our house was a mirage of sorts, but no - no, in the morning it was still there: a clean house. 

(It didn't last of course, but whatever..)

Anyway, so T doesn't eat vegetables and that is why I can't expect him to manage a zucchini vine that will be growing vigorously at that time. N said he would harvest and tend to the garden while we're gone...but we, in a fit of friendly guerrilla gardening, just  planted a spare jalapeño pepper in the middle of their garden surrounded by a hot pink tomato cage while they were away celebrating their anniversary. hee hee 

N would tend to the vine well, but we might have also get some prankster payback. 

the east garden, 14 June 2011

In front of the zucchini is one of the yellow tomato plants (another mystery variety, with a tag that just says: "yellow tomato"), and a "purple pepper" (capsicum), both in ordinary tomato cages. The bee balm, rudbeckia, and Baby M's Lady's Mantle surround the vegetables, with the cucumber rambling through them and the wegeila, irises (which are severely stunted from the long drawn out separating process, but have survived), the rescued red daylilies and now, a a hardy shrub rose, Marie Bugnet.

Rosa x Rugosa, 'Marie  Bugnet' - hardy shrub rose

 I had in mind the David Austin 'Winchester Cathedral' for the spot, remembering the one I had years ago (which survived in a similar sunny location for a number of years).Winchester Cathedral has one of the prettiest fragrances I've ever known in a rose, plus the actual cathedral holds sentiment to a romantic memory my mother has with my father - which means something to me. :) I wouldn't refuse a good substitute though, and I found that yesterday while plant shopping (with my mother): Marie Bugnet, a hardy shrub rose.

I planted my previous Marie Bugnet beneath the sign post to the LU garden, where it remains, so I'm happy to have her again. Beautifully fragrant and an early & repeat bloomer she'll attract more things with wings - the kind we want - to our garden. A compact srub, she'll still probably grow a little big for her space between rescued red 1 and rescued red 2, in front of the irises (which are in front of the 'Red Prince' wegeila - all of which will be wonderful in bloom together ....next year. Everybody has to recover from the mass transplantation first.

I also picked up two yellow cornflowers (bachelor buttons, mountain bluet) yesterday, along with a single trollius (globeflower). I have no idea where I am going to plant them..(west side garden?) The globeflowers are in bloom across the street at H's right now, and every time I look over there I think: I want those. So, now I have one. I could plant it near the geum in the front garden, but that bed is, admittedly, getting full (R might never believe I said that). 

Geum, 'Totally Tangerine', 'Tim's Tangerine' 

The west garden has been turned over to the dogs, but is not without it's weeding and pruning needs. R pruned the junipers on the weekend clearing better pathways for dogs to chase each other through. He also trimmed some lower, scraggly branches off the the two spruce trees near the fence, which now look nice, and look like they'll have the space to grow - hopefully tall, providing much needed shelter in the city.

We've talked about adding some hops to the fence, and maybe adding a burning bush near the dogwood.

I honestly don't know how the trees are surviving there, on (what I've learned from R) is a pile of rubble. Apparently W threw some soil on it and planted the trees. After rescuing the red daylilies I don't doubt it - the soil there was terrible, and shallow - and my spade hit rock a few times before finally sinking in to soil (ow). 

I think we should work around the mulch and top up the garden soil, but I also think poor R is having gardening sticker shock, not to mention the composted manure in the "sports station wagon." 

(Is composted manure 

worse than

dead beaver?)

Terrible soil aside, the trees seem to be doing well. The dogs love to gallop through the trees and over the rambling junipers. It makes for a nice marriage of dog companionship and small downtown garden. There's nothing blooming there now, but it's still pretty, well used, and enjoyed by the whole family. :) (woof!)

Claire under the Tamarack in the west garden 

The west side garden begins near where Claire is standing in the photo above, with the hostas "Gold Drop" x 2 and 'Twilight Time.' Then there is the divided Rescued Red 2, a Morden shrub rose: 'Morden Blush' surrounded by two hardy geraniums, Geranium endressii 'Wargrave's Pink.' Beside it another hosta - the one from the Farmer's Market - which hosta-sticker-shock-suffering R now knows really was a bargain: 'Frances Williams.'
And, of course, tucked in between the geranium and hosta, a cucumber vine to ramble down the sidewalk.

There's a new one in a giant pot down there also, but I can't remember it's name right now. 

There's not a plan as such for the west side garden - other than taking advantage of it being an ideal location for lotsa hostas (I just had to say that, sorry..). I suspect it will develop like most other of my gardens: with whatever grabs my heart. 

As for the middle garden, like Middle Earth, it is another story and it is a long one. I'll talk about (and deal with) that another day.

Rosa 'John Davis'

John Davis ~ May 29, 2011

John Davis, June 7, 2011

John Davis Explorer Rose, Rosa 'John Davis 1986

Kitchen Garden, May 10th

chamomile, May 10, 2011

John Davis, May 10, 2011

rows of  carrots, May 10, 2011

 Mounding Nasturtiums 'Buttercream'

tri-coloured bush beans, Scarlet Emperor pole beans

garlic chives, transplanted  May 10, 2011

Roses I have Known

Morden Sunrise

Parkland series, hardy shrub rose

Introduced in 1999

Blooms appear in a combination of yellow, orange, and pink, against dark green, shiny foliage.

Morden Blush 

Parkland series, hardy shrub rose

Introduced in 1988

Pale pink blooms in cooler temperatures, turn creamy white in warmer weather.

John Davis

Explorer shrub / climber

Introduced in 1986

Medium pink double flowers in clusters. 

J.P. Connell 

Ottawa Breeding Program

Introduced in 1987

Lemon yellow blooms look a lot like a hybrid tea rose open to look more like a floribunda in creamy white.

• I still have my John Davis rose, who has faithfully bloomed year after year since 2001, moved three times, and has lived in a bucket for months at a time.