Archive for the ‘gardening’ Category:
Blizzard
You know the song that goes, “snowin’ and blowin’ up bushels of fun”? Well, I don’t know about fun, but it is blowin’ and snowin’ bushels of snow, and it’s freezing!
It’s been near or below zero all day with wind chills in the minus 20’s. The wind is howling and blowing the foot of snow that was already on the ground all over. And lake effect snow has been coming down at our house all day too.
We were about two hours south this weekend in Indiana celebrating Christmas with my parents. It was just as cold there, but they didn’t have all the snow we do.
Things got worse the farther north we got as we drove home. Once we got near Kalamazoo so much snow was blowing across the freeway that we couldn’t see at times. And we came across a few drifts. The roads were icy too.
We got to our house only to discover that the driveway that had just been plowed Saturday morning was partially drifted shut.
I turned the TV on when we got inside and about five minutes later the NWS issued a blizzard warning for our area. So I guess we made it home before it got even worse.
I don’t have any photos of the snow for you, because I’m not going out there.
Friday we got close to a foot of snow in about five hours. Now this, and there’s more coming every day until Christmas.
We’ll definitely be having a white Christmas and a frozen Christmas. I have a little more shopping to do, and I’m wondering if I’ll even be able to get to the store.
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Wordless Wednesday
Peonies from my garden this spring.
Enjoyed this post? Subscribe in a reader and get more Mommie Daze every day!Shabby Chic or Redneck?
I had to show you a photo of my new garden planter. (That’s my son sneaking into the photo.) I admit, it wasn’t an original idea. I saw this in someone else’s yard. And I have to thank my mother-in-law who gave me this antique washing machine that was her mother’s. Well, what do you think? Shabby Chic or Redneck? Or maybe it’s “green” since I’m re-purposing an old appliance that would otherwise end up in a landfill. Whatever it is, I think it’s cute.
The Secret World of Bees
A very tenacious bumble-bee has laid claim to the flowers around my house. He jealously guards them, buzzing and flapping his little wings around us whenever we get too close.
I grew up in terror of bees, a fear I learned from my mother who is allergic to their sting. I so went out of my way to avoid bees, that I wasn’t stung until I was 23 years old. I reached into a newspaper box on a summer’s evening, but instead of a Grand Rapid’s Press, I got a stick in the pinkie finger from a yellow jacket apparently reading the day’s headlines.
Stunned, I stood there for a moment waiting to see what would happen. I knew from my mother’s experiences that if I were allergic, I’d start to swell up immediately. Soon my pinkie finger would be the size of my big toe. Then I remembered a cousin who is deathly allergic to bees. She carries an EpiPen, because bee stings cause her to asphyxiate. I imagined my husband arriving home from work to find the parking lot of our apartment complex illuminated by the flashing lights of police cars, fire trucks and ambulances, and my breathless body lying on the pavement. But nothing happened. By the time I reached our apartment, my finger didn’t even hurt anymore.
Last summer was our first in the house we now live in, and also my first encounter with the bee centurion. I was more terrified of him than any other bee I’d ever laid eyes on. I’ve never come across a larger, plumper bumble-bee. This bee could take a hummingbird in a fist fight. He’s huge! Surely a sting from a bee that size would hurt.
The bee likes to hover near our porch, lying in wait for us. Last summer he held me almost captive. I would look out my screen door and wait for him to fly away for a moment, then quickly run out the door, dragging my son behind me to back yard. If the bee came near us, we’d run as I tried to shoo him away with flapping hands and shrieks. A few times I tried squirting him with water from the garden hose, and even shooting him with cans of insect poison. I always missed, and he always came back. I was relieved when fall came around, and the bee left to do what ever it is bees do in the winter.
Then spring came again, and with it the bee. A few weeks ago while I was out planting flowers as my son played near by, he came buzzing around me again. This time I got mad. I wasn’t going to let the bee hold me hostage in my own yard for another season. Indignant I asked the bee, “Don’t you get that I’m planting more food for you? I’m not trying to take your precious blue Iris and purple Salvia. Who went out almost every hot, sticky evening last summer and watered all those flowers just to keep them alive during the drought? Who pulled up Morning Glory vine after Morning Glory vine to keep them from strangling the roses? If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have these flowers to drink sweet, intoxicating nectar from. LEAVE ME ALONE!”
He circled, gained altitude then flew right at me in a dive-bomb. I bowed my head, closed my eyes and braced myself. The buzz was loud in my ear, I felt the breeze from his wings, then zoom! He pulled-up, banking hard to the left and missing my cheek by a hair. He repeated this again and again, but I sat perfectly still, each time expecting to feel the scorching pain of his stinger in my flesh. But he never stung me. I realized this brazen little bee was all buzz and no fight. It was almost as if he were teasing me. I laughed at him and told him how ridiculous he was, then resumed my gardening. “And another thing,” I said shaking my spade at him, “If you even think of stinging my son I’ll open up a can of Raid on your –,”
“Mommie, who are you talking to?”
Apparently my shouting had distracted my son from the ant hill he was studying.
“Um, uh, nobody. I was just uh…”
He glanced at the bee who was hovering near the Hibiscus tree, another guarded favorite when in bloom.
“Were you talking to the bee? Hi Bee! The bee is my friend. He talks. He says buzz, buzz. I talk to him too sometimes.”
“You do?”
“Uh-uh. I like bees. Hey, bee, come-on! Let’s go watch the ants.” He motioned for the bee to follow him.
Much to my relief the bee stayed put by the tree, and my son went back to watching ants.
I no longer fear the bee. In fact, I admire his courage and determination. I must be a hundred times his size. The odds are stacked against him, yet he doesn’t give up. He is driven by an instinctual confidence in himself and in the importance of his job. I kind of feel sorry for him too. Held captive by fear that something will happen to his precious flowers, he is never relieved from the monotony of his duty.
Now when my son and I go out on the porch and the bee is there, (He is always there) we simply greet him with a nod and a hello. When I’m tending “our” flowers, he gives me an occasional fly-by, as if to say, “I’m watching you.” The bee and I have come to an understanding, mutual respect for the job the other has to do. He is to guard and pollinate my flowers, me to care for them. Yet we each remain slightly suspicious of the other’s true intentions. It is an uncomfortable partnership forced upon us by nature. In our silent contract we’ve agreed; he doesn’t sting me, and I don’t try to kill him.
Yesterday my son and I were out near the flowers again. I was pulling weeds, and this time I heard him talking. I peered around the side of the house to see the bee hovering at eye level about a foot from my son.
I shouted, “David get away from that bee before you get stung!”
He ignored me. “You’re a nice bee. What are you doing? Come one. Let’s play. Tag, you’re it. Come on, chase me!” He ran off looking behind him at the bee, and motioning for it to follow him.
I’m sure I saw the bee look after him longingly for a moment, wanting to be free to soar and play a game of tag. But his precious flowers beckoned him, and he kept me company the rest of the afternoon as I weeded and planted more flowers to guard.
Enjoyed this post? Subscribe in a reader and get more Mommie Daze every day!Girl Talk: How Does Your Garden Grow?
It’s spring, and one of my favorite things about this time of year is shopping for pretty flowers to fill my flowerbeds with. This year I’ve let my obsession with pink run wild, and I’ve been snapping up a lot of flowers in that shade. I started quite a few from seed since it’s more economical. I’m keeping my fingers crossed, and hoping by late June I’ll have lots of lush blooms. Here are some of my favorite varieties of pink flowers. Some I have, and some are on my wish list.
I love Peonies. They’re so beautiful and fragrant. This one is called Monsieur Martin Cahuzac. Buy it on-line from Pernell Gerver’s. Peonies are cold-hardy perennials that bloom generally in May and June.
Dianthus, also called Pinks or Sweet William, are another one of my favorites to plant.
These Sweet Williams from Gurney’s are hardy in zones 4-8. They have a spicy sent, similar to cloves. Their dainty blooms are so lady like. One site said a gift of Sweet William indicates yearning and wish for a smile from the recipient.
What garden is complete with out roses? Old-fashion cabbage roses are so romantic.
This Centifolia or Cabbage Rose dates from before 1500 and grows in zones 4-9. Get it from Heirloom Roses.
Zinnias have long been a staple in cutting gardens. Annuals, they are easy to start from seed and produce lots of color through late summer and early fall. I planted this Candy Stripe variety this spring. They are a nice change from the usual solid color Zinnias. Seed packets are available from Park Seed. These are also very inexpensive. You get a lot of bloom for your buck!
Look at the size of these flowers! With their huge blooms Dinner Plate Dahlias are a garden show stopper.
I found these Emory Paul Dinner Plates at Van Bourgondien. (They’re on clearance right now! There’s still time to plant them.) The bulbs are hardy only in zones 8-10. In colder climates they will bloom from July to frost, then you will have to dig up the bulbs and store them for the winter.
What are some of your favorite flowers to grow? Leave a comment and share.
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