gardening – Dancing in the rain!

Let’s sit and talk about shit!

August 7, 2013 michd742 Comments

I don’t see my neighbors very often or know most of them but the neighbors to the left of me I have a friendly relationship with. They have been in Edmonton for years but their homeland is Turkey and they have maintained their very thick accents. They still own property there and visit frequently so last summer when they were away I was asked to pick up their mail. They own a business and daily there were checks in the mailbox. Summer is prime time for break-ins and a full mailbox is a sure sign that your house is sitting empty. I took it upon myself to also take care of their front yard because I thought if it was neglected it would be another sign that the occupants were away. I mowed, watered and cut myself fresh blooms of peonies and poppies daily. It was a win win for everyone.

This year the neighbor popped over when I was planting a rose path along the side of my house. We shared niceties and it became clear that she was interested in talking gardening. Two minutes into the conversation I was lost. The thick turkish accent made it difficult to follow along but somehow we ended up in her yard and I remarked how well her peonies and poppies were doing. I felt I had taken care of them the previous summer but they appeared healthier then ever and double in size. I was a little in awe and the neighbor was excited to share with me her secret but was having a hard time finding the words.

She struggled the way a child would and looked to me for help. I was no help at all. It was like a riddle I couldn’t solve. The moment had the potential to quickly turn awkward because I could not follow along with the promps she was giving me except that it started with an M and my neighbor was getting slightly frustrated that she couldn’t properly convey the message she was attempting. The language barrier was quickly erecting a wall between us. All of the sudden she had that aha moment. She squatted with her backside facing her flowers like she was a dog doing her business. She smiled at me and said excitably “SHIT POOPY, SHIT POOPY” and I got it. She manured her garden. I had won charades with the neighbor!

I want to manure my perennials and have big, beautiful blooms next year. My thought is to cut everything back in the fall, cover with a manure (or compost mixture) work into the top layer of the soil and cover with burlap. Is this the correct way to do it? I would love to ask the neighbors for advice but I am not very confident that I will get the directions correct.

Gardeners your advice would be appreciated.

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Fresh New Day-Fresh New Blooms

July 18, 2013 michd742 Comments

I love this whimsical time of year when you get to wake up and run outside and see what nature has accomplished while you were sleeping. I love fresh new blooms! I love to see how plants and flowers respond to the elements and to loving care.

I can see how gardening could quickly become a hobby that takes up a lot of time. I have big plans for the backyard for next year. 😉

My houseplants are probably feeling a little neglected but Sunday I will have the kids help me drag them all out to the back step and give them a good shower and let them bask in the sun all day.

I only wish I got the same joy from housework as I do from tending flowers.

Happy Gardening.

Michelle

Even a Jackass like me-The Accidental Gardener

July 13, 2013July 18, 2013 michd746 Comments

Yes that’s right I said it, any jackass can do it, even me. I used to think that gardening was reserved for people with a special and sought after “green thumb”

I always envied the blooms of my grandmothers flowers. Especially the wild pink roses with that intoxicating scent that whispered summer.

I convinced my younger cousins that though we may never have “green thumbs” we could be the producers of great perfume. Armed with the spirit of the young, crumbled wild roses from the bushes that lined Grammy Millers lane, her plastic pepsi cups and some tap water we were passionate about capturing that earthy, heady smell for all to enjoy. I am quite certain our parents didn’t share in our enthusiasm but Grammy Miller graciously held out her wrist batch after batch to test it, told us it smelled glorious and encouraged our thriving ambitions.

Years later when my mom started gardening I would help her weed but took very little interest otherwise except to casually appreciate the beauty or smell of her blooms. I would often make fun of her for no longer taking pictures of her children but taking countless pictures of her flowers (we do turn into our mothers right!)

When we bought our first home I was excited to build on the landscaping that was started but it turned out to be a dying, overgrown mess. We opted that first year to clean up only and as a quick fix to the fast growing country weeds we put a thick plastic sheet down and mulched over top around the hedges in the front beds. This proved to be a nightmare when we attracted a den of snakes that would mingle underneath the plastic where it was toasty warm, slither across my walkway and get inside my front door. I had a huge property that would have been a gardeners dream but my fear of snakes paralyzed me from ever attempting to enjoy it.

We bought our house in Edmonton a couple of summers ago. They had a vegetable garden planted and mature fruit trees and herbs but very little perennials. The difference between perennials and annuals always confused me and it now confuses my daughters. They are anxious for the quick color fix that annuals bring but in my advancing age I think there is more to learn from sustenance and longevity and it has been a fun lesson in patience for all of us.

Alas my love of house plants spilled over to the outdoors. I actually have some indoor tropicals that I move outside in the summer, it strengthens them and sparks a fall/winter growth spurt.

I had a daydream one day about a rose garden path, or it may have been an envious longing while looking at a gardeners magazine my husband bought me to read during a long road trip.

I was told by countless people that roses were difficult but my childhood love of roses and my lack of good sence prevailed. I did however not want to spend a lot of money in case my venture failed miserably. I opted for bare root roses which had no foliage whatsoever. I started them on a windowsill in late April. I planted them after the lost frost, using our own rich soil, some compost and a little peat moss. I planted the roses a little lower then the rootball to keep them warm and put beside each one a fertilizer spike from Rona. Each day I filled my coffee press with warm water, leaving my used coffee grinds in, I stirred and watered my roses with them. Most of them bloomed that first year in July. Being an accidental gardener I didn’t cut them back or cover them in time and when I came back from my late October vacation we had already had two snowfalls. I just crossed my fingers and they all came back except one.

When my granddaughter Gracie was born I bought her her own rose bush. I tended the young root rose inside till after last frost. It didn’t occur to me not to plant the bush in the same location as the failed bush or at least to use new soil. I am admittedly not a girl with a “green thumb” just a girl with a garden spade and a dream.

The rose seemed to shock immediately. It’s delicate limbs turned from brown to black. My initial thought was to yank it but because I had labeled it Gracies rose I wanted to dedicate some time to it. Daily I cut back a tiny bit more of the limbs. I scratched the bottom close to the root and noticed green beneath the surface so I felt hopeful. Twice a day I fed Gracies rose bush strong black coffee and I am proud to say that she is doing well. I am so excited to see her bloom next year.

My daughter and I planted the other side of the garden path this year with beautiful pink drift roses and lavender. This year I will cut them all back and cover them. I figure if I can do really well with minimal effort why not up the ante?

I urge anyone who appreciates a nice garden to try your hand at gardening. I find myself planning next year and for years down the road. To call me a gardener would insult actual gardeners. I am just a girl who would rather plant and tend flowers then do laundry.

It is very satisfying to watch a plant erupt from underground to full bloom, raised by the motherly love of me and the sun. Where nature meets nurture.