Fact 1: I want an arbor.
Fact 2: I do not have the space or money for an arbor.
Fact 3: I do not care. I want an arbor. Continue reading
Last weekend while millions of people were digging out of a snowstorm, I decided to throw a little party called Yick Yuck Blah. But after reading the news and the stories of other bloggers whose gardens were under several feet of snow, I realized I needed to have a quick talk with myself. Continue reading
I do not have a winter garden. No snow covers evergreens or drifts in small waves at my feet. The berries are gone, long devoured and those remaining hang wrinkled and small. My garden lies like the bleached bones of a whale, exposed and naked, stark branches and limbs jutting at odd angles against a pewter sky. But my garden doesn’t care and neither do I. Continue reading
One of the great advantages of winter is its ability to strip your garden bare, leaving it shivering in its underwear while you dream of summer color and leafy coverage. I do not have a winter garden or much winter interest, aside from a trumpet vine and deutzia that resemble Medusa, but I’m okay with that. My bare bottomed garden gives me a chance to see it as it really is and to make summer plans that work with the bones of my yard. Continue reading
Dear GardenPerfect Magazine…….Thank you for your latest issue of GardenPerfect. I’ve added it to the top of the Must Read pile in my bathroom. While I have great appreciation for the detailed visual trips through all the perfect gardens you’ve featured, I have a few questions for your editors.
My family and I are safe and sound. Hurricane Sandy has left my garden very well watered. Thanks a million for all your support. :o) Continue reading
I recently popped over to Plant Postings to read about the amazing garden tour of Italy Beth is planning for herself and other bloggers. I just returned from a garden tour to England and eagerly wish I could join Beth’s group. As with most things I do, my tour was a bit unconventional. Continue reading
When I was a kid my neighbors had a huge vegetable patch that ran the length their backyard. Aside from tomatoes, I’m not sure what they grew. My brother and I would peek through the fence slats as the woman watered and weeded. Her tomato plants climbed six foot support frames, heavy fruit hanging from their branches like giant rubies. But we didn’t like our neighbors and, therefore, didn’t like their tomatoes. Continue reading