Autumn Clean-Up

Yesterday, I raked leaves and put them into bags.  After finishing clearing the "lawn" (don't worry, "clearing" should have been in quotes, too, as of this morning), I turned around and saw the leaf-littered side yard and decided to tackle it right away.  Usually I just let it sit and be leafy all winter long, on the theory that the leaves are mulch and prevent weeds from taking an early hold in the spring and keep the ground moist if there's a dry spell.  But there's this tar spot thing and I thought I couldn't leave them be.  

So, I put on some thick gloves and clawed around the base of all my plants.  It was quite nice sometimes and quite nasty at others.  The thyme greeted me with a lovely scent which lingered in the air.  I thought the lavender would be even nicer, but it had been beset by some kind of mushroom which then rotted at its base, so the lavender smell was overpowered by that dusty fusty musty mushroom smell.  That became quite familiar to me.  There were a lot of those little nasty spheres which actually turn into a sinister black powder when they decay.  Nothing eats them, so I am quite certain that they are very bad.

After the leaves that had fallen from the trees were taken care of, the side still looked a bit ragged.  The glads, irises and daylilies were all past their peaks, but still somewhat clinging to life through a few yellowing spears.  I got rid of the worst of the yellows and then cut the rest short.  I don't think there is time for real new growth before the winter and hopefully they'll concentrate on their bulbs for the rest of the year.  

I pulled up the last of the dead marigolds and zinnias, the dead nasturtiums and the gone (never really arrived, actually) scarlet runner.  I left the gazanias, of course.  I can spare another few hours to clean them out when the time comes.  I can't believe they're still going.  When I got them, I said "Hopefully, they'll last for a while".  Five months is, indeed, a while.  I'm more than slightly satisfied.

I'll take pictures later, after I've put in the last of the bulbs.  Yes, that's right.  I haven't finished planting those bulbs.  Sigh.

Another success

More good news:  One of the scarlet runner beans is growing up the side of the house.  It's not the hugest of successes because it hasn't flowered or anything, but at least it's still there.  I am happy to see this plant, raised from seed, still going.  

Alive, alive o-oh!

Yesterday evening, as I mowed the "lawn", I noticed that there is new growth on the scarlet runner beans by the guy wire.  

Furthermore, it looks like some of the nasturtiums have also pulled through.

No sign of life among the marigolds, though.

There is a lot of this weed up at the moment.  It's popping up everywhere.  

Unfortunately, I think it looks somewhat like a delphinium.  One of my delphiniums is going like gangbusters.

This could be a weak and struggling delphinium, or it could be a weed.  I don't know. I'll have to work it out at some point, though.

after

I'm back (although not yet back to gardening).  

I did see some absolutely wonderful other people's gardens while I was gone.  Probably I'll put some lessons learned from them into the blog after I've had a chance to filter the ~2000 pictures I took.  However, this blog isn't about other people's consistently marvellous gardens.  This blog is about MY inconsistent gardening.

The garden, having been neglected these two full weeks, is looking mighty fine even if I do say so myself.  My dire predictions of missing everything were absolutely wrong.  The grape hyacinths are busting out beautifully.

The daffs are STILL GOING!! 

Better yet, no-one has obviously stolen them.  A little while ago, a strange man suggested to the sweary one that he should steal flowers from the derelict school up the street.  Now, I have to admit that the thought did cross my mind that they have a really fabulous daffodil garden going on and presumably when the bulldozers finally arrive, the demolition crew aren't going to painstakingly rescue all of those delicious bulbs.  I have yet to work up the nerve to make a midnight raid.  I keep thinking that really, it would be like a public service to dig up those lovely perennials; the taxpayers' money went towards making that garden!  Surely it shouldn't be wasted along with the building.  Of course, given my inconsistencies, I am not the most worthy recipient.  Also, if my garden were awash with daffodils and the school garden had a my-garden-sized hole in its display ... I think someone would be able to put two and two together.  At any rate, I still have daffodils in my garden.  I haven't checked on the school.

The tulips are out, now, too.  

Even the late tulips at the dark end of the garden are starting.  I can't remember what this one was called, although I think it might have had something to do with a WWI battle site.  I do like it a lot, though. 

This has in the past been the best time for the garden.  I think I may have fewer tulips coming now than there were in previous years.  This may be due to some aging of the bulbs.  It may be due to my appalling habit of forgetting where the bulbs are and digging them up over the summer.  (They are then subjected to the indignity of sitting out in the open for months until I remember to plonk them into the dirt somewhere ... anywhere.  I did even forget to bring one bunch of unfortunates in out of the sun for really quite a shockingly long time.)  It may be because I haven't done much to make the soil nicer for them in the past few years.  The excellent tulip-obsessed blogger yarnstorm puts in all new tulip bulbs every year.  This shocks my frugal soul (what does she do with the "used" bulbs?), but you can't argue with her results.  

Of course, the real question is: "What survived?"  It's not enough to have a couple of beautiful tulips.  If I am going to be a gardener, I need to be able to grow stuff in more than one way.  

First of all, let me explain.  While we were living it up, sweltering under sun-drenched 30+ degree weather in Paris, back at home the temperatures were hovering around zero and steel-grey skies poured oceans of chilly rain onto the ground.  We didn't miss spring here because it delayed itself for a couple of weeks.  Our maple tree is in full flower.  The other trees (lindens, maybe?) aren't even that far along yet.  The natural world in this city looks very fresh and green, just like early spring.  

All of those hot-weather plants I dumped into the ground weren't going to enjoy the cold nights, I thought.  Little did I know that winter would return.  

Nonetheless, it looks like maybe the nasturtium is clinging to life.

There is the barest possibility that one or two marigolds will have survived the shock.  

The scarlet runner beans by the house are possibly going to make it in the long run.

The scarlet runner beans on the guy wire (the whole point of the srb's) look very much like they won't make it in the long run.  

The lavender, which I savaged, seems to have recovered enough to be producing plump leaves.  I would love to grow large quantities of lavender.  It's not really hot and sunny enough here to do it well, though.  

All in all, that's not the weed-ravaged nightmare I was anticipating.   

Give me an inch...

I missed two days!  Yikes.

There will be a lot more of that over the next coupla weeks while I'm on vacation.  Ahh.

But, before we went away, the plants couldn't stay out of the ground any longer.  In went the marigolds, nasturtiums, and scarlet runner beans.  

It turns out that 19 marigolds is an awful lot.  I put some in pot and all, some I tore away a lot of the pot, and some I tore away all of the pot.  We'll see which ones thrive.  

The nasturtiums are just a write-off.  I shouldn't have put them into the ground, but I couldn't change the plan.  I'm not a plan-changer.  Anyway, they'll be nasty dead things by the time we get back and that will be easier to deal with than putting just-barely-living things into the compost.  

The scarlet runner beans are not so much of write-offs although they are much the worse for wear.  I meant to put them around a pole that sprouts out of "our lawn", but when I approached it with edger in hand today I noticed that the pole is leaking some oily stuff all around it.  That can't be good for the plants.  So, instead I changed the plan (maybe I am a plan changer, after all) and put the scarlet runner beans around the base of the guy wire for the pole.  However, I couldn't delude myself that there was room for all six there, so I put two over by the house next to the chimney.  If I have time, I'll hammer some nails in and tie string for them to grab on to as they grow.  Otherwise, they'll get to flop around until I come back and decide that they're a disaster.

 

Photography 1, Gardening 0

Actually, they're still not dead!  

They're also still not in the ground, where they belong.  Also, they're really showing what terrible shape they're in.  That's a lot of abuse for poor plants to take.  

I AM the inconsistent gardener.  Fear my inconsistent gardening in my inconsistent garden!!!

The Worst Thing That Can Happen ...

... when you're gardening is that you kill plants.  Not a big deal.  Not the end of the world.

I forgot to bring the scarlet runner beans back inside last night.  They really, really, really didn't flourish in the cold night air.  

So, what am I going to do?  I am going to put the protesting and weak nasturtiums back outside next to them and go to work.  What else can I do?  They've got to go out. If When they die, they die.  Gotta go!

Gardening 1, Photography 0

I put the peas into the plot, along with the stringbeans and the beets.  They're in the earth now.  I don't think that the beets will be up to much, frankly.  I took them out of their pots and there wasn't sign of much going on in there.  Oh, well.  

The nasturtiums and marigolds went out into the chilly winds for the day.  They didn't like it.  The nasturtiums are all lying down.  We're going on holiday soon and everyone has to be in a permanent home by the time we're gone.  That's the way it's going to be.  So, the flowers are going to go into the flowerbeds and the runner beans are going to find a place to be somewhere, somehow and the mint and the basil will go into pots because I'm not stupid enough to put two bits of mint deliberately into one flowerbed.   And it's all going to happen some time soon.  Maybe Wednesday.

As an antidote to the previous discussion (which is basically a description of how I'm going to kill all of those plants), it's time to mention that the daffs are out properly now.  They're shining at the world.  Ahhh.

Moving On

The secret-bearing bean has leaf nubbles now.  I waited for a while, but there is a limit to how long the others in the flat should wait for it to catch up.
The beans went out into the cold morning for hardening-off today.  We'll see if it kills the nubbly-one.  I have an emotional attachment to it, I'll admit.  However, I want beans some time this summer and I know that the way to get 'em is to put these plants into our plot.  They're not going into the plot without hardening off, so out they go.

The scarlet runners are presumably now quite seriously hardened off.  Time to find a place to put them, I think.  Unfortunately, it's a busy week so I am not sure when the time will be.
The alien breech-birth bean is dealing with being outdoors interestingly.  The root that was exposed is wasting away.  I don't know if this is because it's been attacked by birds.  I suspect the local birds are gathering nesting material from the sides of the pots (and who could blame them?  It is nesting material) and maybe one or two of them has made an experimental pull at the root.  Or, perhaps, it's sensibly killing off the branch that can't deal with the cold.  Whatever it is, the growing part of the bean doesn't show any trauma.

Finally, I can't leave the nasturtiums out of the story much longer.  They're so pretty.  They really are quite seriously overgrown now and there will be sadness when I try to put them into the ground and they all die, but I am at the moment enjoying the nasturtium forest on my windowsill. 

Neglect

Have you ever wondered what marigolds look like when you sprout them in tiny pots and then leave them in a sunny window until they are drier than paper?  

Wonder no more!  

Amazingly, they don't look dead.  At the start, I was keeping them very moist, but then I read that they would be leggy if the soil wasn't a bit dry. After that, apparently I went crazy because I kept looking at them and thinking "oh, no, mustn't overwater" instead of thinking, "oh no, those are bone dry".  So no doubt they will be leggy with poor root systems.  I have watered them now.  When I picked up the pots and they were as light as a feather, I panicked and rushed the whole assemblage under the tap in the bathroom.  They will need more watering in a bit.  This first dousing was just to get the soil spongy and receptive again.

The hardening-off of the less-neglected plants (they at least got rain on Friday so they've seen some water recently) continues in my heartless way.  This morning, I opened the door with my hands full of pea pots and found a) that it was much, much colder (1 C) than I expected and b) that my full hands weren't anything like as capable as I had imagined.

I think the one I dropped will probably survive, although all that rolling can't have been good for the low-lying leaves.

The peas really do need something to grab on to now.  They're grabbing on to each other in desperation.

The scarlet runner beans will need something soon.  I had thoughts of putting them into the ground today, but I didn't prep the patch I want to put them in and anyway it is really very cold despite all the sun yesterday.

The basil, the ones that survive because I moved them from their terrible and inadequate egg cups, unlike the ones that are dead/dying because I got interrupted while doing the re-potting and never returned to it, are being luminous again.

All in all, not a day to be proud of as a gardening wannabe.  Plus, my muscles are sore from the yard work yesterday.  Stairs, in particular, elicit unusual and unpleasant sensations.

High 7.4 Low -1.4

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.