Grow-dodendron

The Rhododendron, as I think I've said, has always been a bit touch-and-go.  It's not in the sunniest spot and it's not the best-looked-after plant in the history of gardening.  That's why, after the effort I put into the front yard, I am always thrilled to see signs of new growth.

Hello snow, what do you know?

This morning, the main story on the local news was about the hundreds of cars stranded on the highways as a result of last night's snow and ice.  

It's not that bad in the city (although very icy), but it is now definitely winter.  I know, we have a month yet before the shortest day and all that.  We can't argue with the white stuff.  It's boot weather; it's time to exchange the midweight wool coat for a nice puffy wind-resistant stuffed parka; it's time to put the lawnmower away and bring the salt, ice chipper, and shovel up from the basement; it's time to set the heat to come on before we get home in the evenings; it's time to put the big cauldron of mittens, hats and scarves in it's convenient-to-the-door location; it's time to stop watching last year's garden.  The gardening season is over.  

I'm going to try to keep up with the blog anyway.  Sooner rather than later I'm going to be fretting about next year's indoor plantings.  There's the indoor herb garden (still flourishing, even the crazy basil) and the potted plants.  The christmas cactus is looking good.  

Besides, in the next month I'm planning to be away from these snowy climes and in slightly more temperate bits of the world.  Perhaps I'll find something to say about other people's gardens.  

So, for the last report:  The gazania is covered in snow and ice.

The yellow flower has collapsed under the weight of the snow and ice.

The outdoor blooming season, 2008: March 6 - November 20.

Wet Day

After a longish dry period, we had a heavy thunderstorm last night and rain all day today.  

The plants, which I have not been faithfully watering (maybe that's the problem with the zinnias), are for the most part lapping it up.  The probably-iris is holding a pool in its petals and pretty droplets as well.  

The actually-iris is not holding up so well.  It looks sodden and miserable.

Miracles front and centre

Last fall, I attacked the bad stuff about the front in a small way.  I pulled up lots and lots of weeds and got rid of lots and lots of leaf litter.  I can't remember, but I think I did a little bit of pruning on the rhododendron.  Whatever it was that I did, it worked out a treat!!  This is the first year that I can remember that the rhododendron has actually flowered nicely. 

Better yet, there is new growth on most of its branches.  Another first for that poor bush!

And to round out the miracles of the front yard, there is a pretty little spray of lily-of-the-valley for me to admire, as well. 

Hardening

The peas, beets and beans got another dose of it today.  The wind blew them all flat in the morning, but the afternoon was stunning, so they did alright.

So did I, for that matter.  It's not just the plants doing the hardening of today's title.  I am trying to get rid of my softie-ness.  The difficult truth is that yard work is hard work. 

The side yard is spring-ready.  I took out some stones, but mostly I tackled weeds and debris today.  I also dug up the spots that didn't have anything growing.  It looks better.  MUCH better. The front yard still looks derelict, but we'll deal with that in time.  

In the front, we still have snowdrops.  

We also have these delicate lovelies cheering up the entire place.

Even more delicate are these little star-like crocuses.  

The pickwicks in the front are just passing their peak.

The pickwicks in the side are pretty much finished.  I removed the rotting flowers from the main batch.  This is not a task I savour and I probably would have waited for the rotting to get a bit further along were it not for the fact that the pickwick patch was being eaten by clover (more on that to follow). 

The deep purple crocuses (with some pickwicks mixed in) are just finishing and they are going to get the chance to rot properly before I take away the flowers.

The zwanenburg bronzes are completely done.  I removed the mercifully dry remains of its flowers as I cleared out the last of the leaves and a few weeds from under their stalks.

The hyacinth is peaking.  Lovely.  

The grape hyacinths are coming up but they're a way from blooming yet.  

The daffodils are starting to look like they'll bloom soon.

Some of the tulips are looking promising.

Mostly, they're looking like tulip leaves, though.

I have no idea what's in the ground around the tulips there.  I hope that they flower soon to solve the mystery.  It's just possible that they're onions or garlic.  I remember thinking that any leftover sets we had should just be put into any convenient bit of ground for the sake of seeing what they did.  

I cut back the lavender.  

I cut it very far back. 

I cut back the marjoram (?).  It was attacking the zwanenburgs and neighbouring tulips.  I tore some of it out of the ground, too.

I went gonzos on the mint.  I am starting to think that maybe the mint was a mistake, after all.  I was happily cutting it back (it was choking some tulips) and thinking how well it was doing and then I found some roots.  HOLY COW!!  The mint is seriously sinister in the way it wanders around the garden.  I'm going to have to keep a close eye on that little bugger.  I suspect I could remove all the mint I know about and it would still be coming up in unexpected places.  I ended up digging out a large chunk of it, and also digging little trenches between it and the tulips and daffodils.  Any roots in the trench came out.  

I left this in the earth. I hope that it's something I want.

I also left this in.  They can't both be delphiniums, which is basically the only perennial that vanishes completely every year that I expect to come up.  The delphiniums actually look like this:

The tulips at the far end, next to the delphiniums, aren't yet out.  However, they are usually last.  And well worth the wait.  I think the picture shows how much worse the soil is at that side of things.  I believe that is part of the reason why the tulips are so late.

There are irises, which didn't flower last year but hopefully will recover from the transplanting and start blooming eventually.  I put them into the ground at the end of the season in 2006, so I think that they should be given a stern talking-to if they can't produce something nice this year.

The bits and pieces of daylily are not obviously dead.  Some bits have sprouted where the plant originally sat, and I think I didn't put any part of it back in the original hole.  I think they must be shoots from the bits of root (?) that were left in the ground in the chaos of trying to get that monster out of the earth.  We did get to the stage where we were hacking at it quite barbarously.  It wasn't an easy task.  I will have to remember that I split it in 2007 and remember to split all of those in 2011, and NO LATER.

There are these things which could be irises and could be daylilies.  Time will tell.

So, I did pull out a lot of that insidious creeping weed that at first I thought might be a herb.  I now am certain it wasn't.  I can tell the difference between the herbs and the weeds.  The herbs smell delicious when you hack at them and tear them out.  I don't fool myself that I got all of the insidious one, but I got lots and lots of it.  I think it's got such a stronghold because last year I managed to convince myself that it was alyssum coming back after self-sowing.  Oh, innocence; such a mistake.  

I don't know if I'll have any alyssum this year.  The marigolds could be a nice replacement.  The nasturtiums will fill in the ground where the runner beans grow up.  That's the plan, anyway.

I didn't take photos during the process, but in the front I still have some clover attacking the bulb plants.  What gives with that?  Why is the clover favouring the places where my dear old bulbs are coming out?  And why is clover so bloody impossible to get out?  I have been digging and digging and digging with my little claw, just to get to the point where the root is weak enough to break.  I know, you're supposed to get the whole thing out.   I can't follow the whole root when it's wrapped around the bulbs.  

The rhododendron is looking better this year than it usually does.  We had two in the back and they were so sad and hopeless that we gave them away.  They survived the transplant and are enjoying seeing the sun for more than 20 minutes every day.   The back yard has issues.

The biggest victory on the day is the "lawn".  That little strip of grass between the sidewalk and the street, which the sweary one spent a good half hour raking and clearing.  

This is the best it has looked since we moved in.  No, we're not golf-ready.  We're not about the lawn.  And if we were, we'd be very ... upset ... about that gash delivered by the sidewalk plough.  As it is, we can shrug it off and hope that the wound will heal. 

After several hours crouched over the beds this afternoon, I may be hoping for healing myself.