Here is my photo diary of my front hill. I'll begin with the pix. Commentary will follow.
March 2008 - too cold to plant, kept dreaming
April 2008 - planted ferns and perennials - looked like a clump of dirt once done.
May 2008 -- Endless rain through spring brought, arrgh, weeds!
June 2008 - first stage of planting - still not pretty.
August 2008 - at least the ornamental grass is growing. What's that pink stuff in the middle?
Monday, August 25, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Just some self-indulgent pix of my daughter
I'm finding it difficult to keep up a good gardening blog. Maybe that's why I haven't found a gardening blog that I like. So what do I like? Something informative. Something entertaining. Something insightful. Something inspiring. Something with that documents the ins and outs, the ups and downs of gardening.
Oh, well. Maybe I'll find the magic in me one day.
In the meantime I'm just going to post some self-indulgent pictures of my youngest daughter with me in my garden.
Isn't she just so cute? It was hard for her to help me plant some lamb's ear plants. So she just posed for the pix.
She tried to help me set up the last vegetable bed. Compost made from decayed playground mulch is in the plastic bag. She gave me a couple handfuls before just dumping it on the sidewalk.
Hopefully one day she will have fond memories of helping daddy in the garden.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
The hardest thing about a gardening blog - crappy pictures
The hardest thing I have found about doing a gardening blog is being able to take pictures that adequately captures what's been done in the garden. I'm not an expert photographer. Therefore, my pictures look crappy. That's my excuse for not faithfully blogging. Sorry.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
My Epiphany!
I work at the University of Pittsburgh (by the way - the picture is not from Pitt - it's just something I found on the internet to illustrate my story). I ride to work everyday - one hour each way. Most of the time my head is buried in a book, somewhere in my own world. But every now and then, I stop to re-enter the world around me. I typically notice the landscaping of other people's homes, neighborhood gardens, and institutional landscaping. A lot of times, I pick up good ideas. I also realize what I do not want to do.
One example is the law office that is across the street from where I work. They have three beds, approximately 100-150 square feet. A couple of weeks ago they were beautiful. They were filled with tulips. Then one weekend after some rains, all the tulip flowers were destroyed. Soon after all the tulip plants were cut off, covered with mulch, and the beds were made to look like there never were tulips at all.
I was in a state of shock! First, let's give kudos to the landscapers for being punctual in keeping the place looking good. Second, no doubt the law office likes a well manicured flower bed. BUT THE TULIPS WERE TREATED LIKE POPCORN! They were planted. Made to pop. Then tossed.
Tulips like all bulb flowers, after the flowers have died off, need about six weeks of sunshine, air, and water to re-generate their bulbs for next year. My guess is that the landscapers will just replant new bulbs this fall in preparation for next spring. Yea, yea, yea. I'm sure it was just an economic decision.
This insignificant experience produced a real epiphany for me. I now realize some gardening principles that have laid dormant in me for a long time.
I like building self-sustaining gardens that require the minimum amount of maintenance. At the same time my garden should have a dynamic transformation from season to season. I like to see plants traverse a whole life cycle. For perennials and bulbs, they should awaken out of their dormancy in spring - blossom to full beauty in the summer - begin to change color in the fall - and hibernate for the winter.
What I saw in those beds in front of the law office was too man-made and seemed unnatural. I think what I like seeing is the cycle of life for a single plant as well as a whole garden.
So what do my tulips and daffodils look like now that it is the middle of May and the beautiful blossoms are long gone? Like this. . .
One example is the law office that is across the street from where I work. They have three beds, approximately 100-150 square feet. A couple of weeks ago they were beautiful. They were filled with tulips. Then one weekend after some rains, all the tulip flowers were destroyed. Soon after all the tulip plants were cut off, covered with mulch, and the beds were made to look like there never were tulips at all.
I was in a state of shock! First, let's give kudos to the landscapers for being punctual in keeping the place looking good. Second, no doubt the law office likes a well manicured flower bed. BUT THE TULIPS WERE TREATED LIKE POPCORN! They were planted. Made to pop. Then tossed.
Tulips like all bulb flowers, after the flowers have died off, need about six weeks of sunshine, air, and water to re-generate their bulbs for next year. My guess is that the landscapers will just replant new bulbs this fall in preparation for next spring. Yea, yea, yea. I'm sure it was just an economic decision.
This insignificant experience produced a real epiphany for me. I now realize some gardening principles that have laid dormant in me for a long time.
I like building self-sustaining gardens that require the minimum amount of maintenance. At the same time my garden should have a dynamic transformation from season to season. I like to see plants traverse a whole life cycle. For perennials and bulbs, they should awaken out of their dormancy in spring - blossom to full beauty in the summer - begin to change color in the fall - and hibernate for the winter.
What I saw in those beds in front of the law office was too man-made and seemed unnatural. I think what I like seeing is the cycle of life for a single plant as well as a whole garden.
So what do my tulips and daffodils look like now that it is the middle of May and the beautiful blossoms are long gone? Like this. . .
Mystery Solved!
My neighbor asked me what I planted in my garden. I answered, "Lettuce, spinach, onions, garlic, salad greens, and collard greens." But then I looked down to see something growing that didn't look like anything I mentioned. I thought, "Maybe those are collard greens."
Well those seedling finally began growing real leaves. I said, those are definitely not something I grew. Those are just weeds!
My daughter and I began to pull these "weeds" out and look at what we found: At the end of these seedlings were pumpkin seeds! This vegetable garden began last fall as a compost pile. The old jack-o-lanterns were thrown in and decomposed really well. But not the seeds.
My daughter is trying to convince me that we should keep some of the pumpkin plants. My kids will probably win. I'll keep you posted on our pumpkins this coming fall.
In the meantime, I pulled as many seedlings as I could, since they were taking up the space for my lettuce and greens. So in between the beds we have a pumpkin seedling cemetery.
Well those seedling finally began growing real leaves. I said, those are definitely not something I grew. Those are just weeds!
My daughter and I began to pull these "weeds" out and look at what we found: At the end of these seedlings were pumpkin seeds! This vegetable garden began last fall as a compost pile. The old jack-o-lanterns were thrown in and decomposed really well. But not the seeds.
My daughter is trying to convince me that we should keep some of the pumpkin plants. My kids will probably win. I'll keep you posted on our pumpkins this coming fall.
In the meantime, I pulled as many seedlings as I could, since they were taking up the space for my lettuce and greens. So in between the beds we have a pumpkin seedling cemetery.
Our First Salad
Thursday, May 1, 2008
"As soon as the soil can be worked..."
Here is a helpful pointer I found in a book by some Pittsburgh horticulturers, Grow Organic, by Doug Oster and Jessica Walliser.
"Plant as soon as the soil can be worked" -- a frustrating statement for beginners who wonder exactly when that is. There is a simple test to determine if the soil is ready. Take a shovel out to the garden and turn it over in a couple of spots. If the soil sticks to the shovel, forget it and try again in a few days.
"Plant as soon as the soil can be worked" -- a frustrating statement for beginners who wonder exactly when that is. There is a simple test to determine if the soil is ready. Take a shovel out to the garden and turn it over in a couple of spots. If the soil sticks to the shovel, forget it and try again in a few days.
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