Tag: gardening

Mid-May–Merry Month of May, Midway

Good morning, mid-May, and midway through this night into the morning.

Well, that’s stretching it. Perhaps it was when I woke up at 3:15am. However, I resisted for an hour and a half. Now it’s 4:44 and I have succumbed to awakeness. Windows are still closed overnight, because, as I have, what, emoted, ensured, announced, in blog posts past, I like warmth, and, while a few days this merry month of May I have opened windows during the day, and Maria has instantly checked out the noise enhanced scenery, only one night have I left the two judiciously chosen windows to be open — kitchen and bedroom, both overlooking the backyard and the nascent vegetable garden, the bract-beautiful dogwood, the backporch, the arborvitae, and the birdfeeders. And last night was not one to keep them open. It being, even as I type, only 52 degrees Farenheit. I need at least 60 degrees, maybe 62 degrees overnight before the fresh air is allowed to blow in overnight.

Nevertheless, as I sat at my desk to begin this, 10 minutes ago, I heard through the closed windows of my office a robin, and now another. Perhaps the sparrows are rustling as well. It’s still dark out at ground level, so little motion, little rustling. I do see the sky paling a bit, and now, now, even as I type, I hear the 18-wheelers 1 1/2 miles away on the highway. And just now, a blue jay several house lots away. Boisterous enough to be audible over my clicking keys, the rolling 18-wheelers, and any lower decibel birds awakening and stretching closer at hand.

Well, so that’s me. Are you up? What do you hear? What do you see? If you were in New England, did you enjoy the incredibly beautiful, sunny day yesterday was? Nevertheless, have you been as glad I have been over the amount of rain we’ve gotten these past weeks? I was at the Concord River yesterday morning fairly early to count herrings climbing the fish ladder. That river, those falls, that fish ladder were so very high, and whooshing! Continuing contained within its banks, albeit barely, it was a good sight to behold. I read yesterday that we have finally emerged out of drought state here in mid-northern, and in northern New England, and are merely in “very dry” state now. So I, for one, hope for a few more days here of good rain. My arugula would be happy of it too. It is about an inch high as I planted a bit late in April. But it’s looking good, and I am ready for it! A rogue arugula plant popped up in another part of my designated vegetable and wildflower garden area, and nice and early, so I have been peppering my salads with it for a couple of weeks already. But as of yesterday I consumed all its leaves. So now I wait, wait for that which I planted later rather than earlier in April. But oh! I also harvested rhubarb last week. So good. I enjoy it like a bowl of applesauce. I have one friend who loves rhubarb as much as I do. Maybe I’ll save her a portion for when I see her later this week. Maybe…..

Apropos of nothing, I think I’ll show you a few photographs of recent vintage.

This, I read, is called an Interrupted Fern. It is so named to describe the gap in the middle of the blade left by the fertile portions after they wither and eventually fall off. (Well after this photograph was taken, which was April 29th)
I’m showing you these tulips, which bloomed later than all my others. Nice of them. Just when I thought, oh well, no more spots of color, these popped out. A friend of mine gave me these last year in a pot, I planted them last fall, and voila!!
Threeleaf Goldthread. According to wikipedia, its rhizome was chewed by indigenous peoples to relieve canker sores, and is also used to make a tea that is used as an eyewash. There’s more, you can look it up.
A work of art, otherwise known as an aged section of a red pine that has served quite a few purposes. Ah, to be useful, and found valuable right through to old age.

So, and I am also peppering my salads with violet leaves and flowers, and dandelion greens. My, my they are tasty.

Look!! It’s light out now!! I looked up from the screen, and I can see the street; I can see the weeping birch that curtains my front yard (and the sidewalk) from now until October. I can see the shrubs in front of my porch that cardinals vetted about a month ago for a nest, but rejected. They’re around, so their nest isn’t far. Just not here in front this year. I keep an eye on last year’s robin nest in the crook of one of my downspouts and the eave of the porch. No one has taken it over, but I think some of its structure has been taken for use by others elsewhere, as it looks a bit disarrayed.

It Brings Spring

Calendrically, March brings spring. And, in fact, I have been noticing the shifting-to-higher angle of the sun. This became particularly noticeable to me in February this year, with the several snowstorms we had here–the snow white was a new hue. It was not as gray. I am thinking this is not the snow changing color as the sky it’s reflecting that is gold-bluing. I would take a picture of my vestigial snow today to make the point, but, in fact, the sky is full cloud, and positioning to send down some rain, so the snow is flat-white. Not particularly photogenic.

How are you faring today? I’m kind of in minor mode. The second half of yesterday does not bear repeating. Happily, I slept deeply last night, without dreams of note, and woke to Maria, the tuxedo cat, patiently kneading the blankets that covered my shoulder, which, based on the time (6:00 AM), she had probably been doing for at least an hour. I am eternally grateful for deep sleep.

I want to be more loving in my heart, from Howard Thurman

A couple of days ago I planned my vegetable and herb garden. I have made all sorts of promises to myself that I will be diligent in establishing it carefully, not my usual willy-nilly some seeds here, a semi-mound for the cucumber seeds there, oh look, a space over near that corner, I believe I’ll sow some found ground cherry seeds there. No! I will set out the rows. I will keep to the rows. I will follow the calendar for best-day-to-seed. I will appropriately mark the name of what is in that row and not count on remembering to put it on the chart three days later. I will thin the seedlings when they are two leaves high. I will know which green seedling is a viable vegetable and which is an interloper. I will nourish the seeds, seedlings, plants so that they, in turn, will return the favor. A day later I went and bought two seed packets for vegetables that are not on my garden plan. Argh.

In May? June? I always end up finding starter plants for something I haven’t planned. Then I always try to cram them in. Keep me honest, ask me in June what is planted, what is growing, how much arugula have I had already. Are lima beans showing some promise? Did I carefully mound the pickling cucumbers? Are they flourishing? Did the biennial sage come back? How about the rosemary–has it become warm enough in this growing zone for it to overwinter like it has done for a long time just south of here in NYC? In July will I be weeding in my bathing suit? With icepacks on my neck to keep cool?

Sorry, I digress toward the climate. I want not to bring you down. (As soon as I wrote that last sentence, the song by ELO popped into my head–“Don’t bring me down….Groos! Don’t bring me dooowwwnnn… Anyone remember that song? Jeff Lynne of the excellent band, ELO, and later of the wonderful Traveling Wilburys )

Here is an explanation for “Groos”: the word is a mondegreen in the song that Jeff Lynne is shouting “Bruce”. But Jeff Lynne has explained that he is singing a made-up word, “Groos”, which some have suggested sounds like the German expression “GruB” [that B in German language fonts is a bit more stylized, and pronounced as a hard “s”.], which means “greeting.” Lynne explained that originally he did not realize the meaning of the syllable, and he just used it as a temporary placekeeper to fill a gap in the lyrics, but upon learning the German meaning, he decided to leave it in. This is not the only explanation, but it’s one the Jeff Lynne, the song’s writer is credited with, so I use it. If you want some alternative tales, just look up that line from the song, or ELO, or Jeff Lynne.

Also, if you don’t know who the remarkable Traveling Wilburys are, I really recommend looking them up and listening to some of their songs. Here’s a hint from Wikipedia (also my source for the preceding paragraph):

The Traveling Wilburys were a British-American supergroup formed in Los Angeles in 1988, consisting of Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Jeff Lynne, Roy Orbison and Tom Petty. They were a roots rock band and described as “perhaps the biggest supergroup of all time”

Oh, and, also from Wikipedia, here is the definition of a mondegreen: a mishearing or misinterpretation of a phrase in a way that gives it a new meaning. Mondegreens are most often created by a person listening to a poem or a song; the listener, being unable to hear a lyric clearly, substitutes words that sound similar and make some kind of sense.

Will you be planting a garden? Even a windowsill garden? Regardless if properly planned, prepared, planted, and picked (or not!), I find it such peace. Even if it while I watch the rabbit chews off the heads of the flowers before they can fruit, or the chipmunks grub whatever they can, or the robins, finches, and, yes, cardinals nip at whatever flower, fruit, leaf appeals, or the groundhog lumbers around the edges taking a bite here and there. Happily, the rabbit is finding more and more clover in my grasses, which distracts him from the tulips, nasturtiums, radishes…..

Here’s some advice I saw at a county fair in some part of interior Maine a couple of years ago, take it or not!

Good day!