Garden Musings

 

Gardening has this embracing quality in that it colours

the way you look at the world.

Penelope Lively - Life in the Garden

Most of the columbines in my garden are of the pale variety, but these dark violet ones popped up in a dark corner. I'll be saving the seeds to strew elsewhere in the autumn. Pink and white peonies have so many fat buds and I'm longing to see them open. Yesterday evening I watched a bumblebee going from one tight bud to another search for pollen. He didn't linger long and soon moved on to more likely fare, such as the chive blossoms.  

We planted a new fig tree last summer. The one we had was not suitable for our climate and produced few fruits on the first crop and many on the second which arrived too late to ripen. Our new tree is a Desert King which supposedly produces a large breba crop that will ripen. On the four spindly branches there are over a dozen figs fattening nicely. Figs are a fruit I've learned to like over the years. My first introduction to figs was via store-bought Fig Newton Cookies and I didn't like them at all. But a fresh fig with blue cheese, or roasted figs with honey - so delicious!

I've just finished reading Life in the Garden by Penelope Lively, featuring gardens as related to art, literature, and life in general. I especially enjoyed the section on gardens in literature in which she references Rebecca, The Secret Garden, Elizabeth and Her German Garden, among others. Lively also suggests that gardening is somewhat genetic - the desire to garden runs in families. 

I have to laugh at my attempts to grow a garden in the jungle of Ecuador. Early on, Tim found someone selling rose bushes and purchased two of them for me. I planted them in front of the covered porch of our house. They gave few blooms for whenever leaves grew, the leafcutter ants would march in and strip the bushes in a matter of hours. I soon gave up planting anything. Instead I enjoyed the wild and bright impatiens plants growing in massive heart-shape around a tree that overarched another home. How upset I would get when the hospital maintenance crew would regularly mow them down. Then I'd wait for a few weeks until the blooms reappeared. 

In my present garden in Canada, now over 20 years old, things constantly change. The yellow poppies appeared several years ago and show up faithfully every May, growing in profusion each year. The birch tree is filling out nicely, but the buddleia died over the winter, and I lost my large rosemary bush. This week I cleared part of one of my flower beds for a small asparagus patch, digging in compost and spreading out the corms with their long tendrils. It will be a couple of years before we harvest, but I can wait. Gardening is a hopeful activity, one that looks to the future. 

As Monty Don says, "A garden is not a place. It's a journey." On that note I'll end here for today, still thinking about gardens. Do you enjoy gardening? 

In My Winter Garden

 

A winter garden is a subtle thing. There is a spare architecture of bare branches and geometric shapes. Rose bushes show their thorns on greenish stems. Brown sticks thrust upwards from a hydrangea's base, pale against the green cedar hedge. Bright emerald moss covers large patches of brown dirt. Now, in January, in our coastal climate, sharp, pointed leaves of bulbs planted months ago thrust their way upwards. A short excursion around the garden late in the afternoon revealed all kinds of growing things. Snowdrops, the first flowers, are so very welcome in the grey days. 

A small anemone flower forms in a pot where anemones settled on their own last year and seem to like it there, so they can stay. 

Tiny furled blueberry leaves make me smile, and remind me that it's high time to get out there and prune a few things. A week or so ago I finally moved the peonies I'd planned to relocate last fall, and was thwarted by the incessant rain. I don't know how well they will do, but I did notice tiny red points among the tubers which I promptly covered up, but not too deeply. 

The lemon tree is tightly covered and a string of old fashioned Christmas lights winds through its little branches to keep it warm throughout the winter. On cold mornings we see the glow of the lights, attached to a thermostat, and know the temperature is near freezing. Yesterday, I peeked underneath the covering and reached in to pick these bright, little lemons. How good they smell! As well, there are small green fruits forming for summer picking. Lemon trees are amazing things - they can have flowers and fruit at the same time, and are self-pollinating under their winter covering. A little microcosm of the life cycle under wraps.

This lemon tree is our second, as we uncovered the first one too early in the spring and a cold snap took it away. We won't uncover this one until May. 

I read about this book on a blog (I don't remember which one), and added it to my list of want-to-reads. It wasn't available in the library, so I checked Russell Books, our local re-seller, and discovered they had a hardcover version in stock for a very reasonable five dollars. 

Daniel Blajan features his garden and the creatures that live there. He's not a life-long gardener; the book was written after five years of moving from the city to the country. Detailed observation of his own garden combines with whimsy, dry humor, and a sense of awe to make for a delightful book to dip in and out of on grey January days. I'm including a small excerpt for you to enjoy:

"It was not yet dark, but the sun had already set and it was one of those rare, serene nights when you feel you could almost catch the light and hold it in your hand like a shimmering violet treasure. A perfect night for the flowers to dance...in the still of the night, the flowers of the evening primroses were coming to life. The pale yellow petals were unfolding one by one, flower after flower, like the wings of butterflies. They were unfolding at such speed that they caused the stems - yes, the whole plants - to tremble and quiver like a troupe of nervous ballerinas ready to jump on stage."

I'll leave you to dream about gardening with this photo of the sunset last evening. While cooking dinner, I look out to see intense colour in the sky, and rushed out in my stocking feet to admire it. It didn't last long, but how beautiful it was. 

Slow Saturday

 

Storm after storm moves in from the Pacific and we are inundated with rain and wind. The sun shines for a brief while before the clouds scud across to cover it once again. These are good days for sewing projects accompanied by cups of tea. 

Our municipality is intent on increasing the tree canopy and offers to partner with residents. They provide and plant trees along the city easements, and the residents care for them. We chose this tree (Pacific Sunset Maple - acer truncatum) several years ago and it's growing nicely. Its leaves are slow to fall, but just now there is a lovely circle of red and gold under the tree. This photo is taken from ground level, but I admire the circle from an upstairs window. 

A few hardy blooms still brighten up corners of the garden, like these fuschia blossoms. In Spanish-speaking countries, they are often called "aretes" or "earrings", and they do resemble a dangling piece of jewellry. 

Yesterday I filled in for a teacher who had to fly out east for a family event. I'll be covering for her for three days next week, too. French and Drama. It's most enjoyable, particularly the French classes. Drama, with grade 8 students, is a bit of a challenge at the end of the day. 

Today I'm puttering around the house. I've started some Christmas projects and spend a bit of time every day stitching by hand or on the machine. 

Are you thinking about Christmas yet? Any projects on the go?

Mellowing Days

 

This morning dawned still and cloudy. We turned on a few lights at 7 am. Whispers of change are in the air - a bit more wind, temperatures that require a light sweater, and leaves that are losing their brightness. 

We are very thankful for cooler temperatures. On southern Vancouver Island we have not had measurable rain for weeks and weeks. Last week a wildfire began close to the town of Ladysmith. My husband was very busy all week working on evacuation plans for long-term care homes. Fortunately, as of this morning, the fire is contained and the seniors' residences are safe. 

I picked up a case of peaches last week and they were so hard that I wondered if they would ripen. I set them out on sheets of newspaper, socially distanced from each other, and within a few days they were perfect. Sweet and juicy. Okanagan peaches are the best! I canned seven pints and we will easily eat the rest fresh. 

On Saturday evening we enjoyed dinner with friends. They have a beautiful garden with the back border a forested park. We sat outside, with cozy wraps and a tall heater going, talking and laughing until the fat moon rose high in the sky and illuminated everything in a clear light. 

My contribution to the meal was a Cherry Almond Tart. Cherry season is all too short and I thought this was a good way to bid the season a fond farewell. I combined two recipes from Laura Calder's Paris Express. 

After Tim left for work I sat at the table overlooking the garden with my tea and yogurt, berries, and almonds. The light was so dull that I lit the first candle of the season. I'm hoping for many more sunny days, but enjoyed the stillness of this morning and the cheery glow of the little light beside me. 

The garden beckoned after breakfast. I fertilized the squash, pulled out the sweet peas (they've given me bouquet after bouquet this summer), pulled a few weeds, and cut more dahlias. They are so flamboyant! 

The rest of the morning (it's 10:30) is open and I think I'll do some sewing. This afternoon I'll be watching 2 little girls while their mother goes to an appointment. 

On Friday: Summer on the Wane

 

Reddening apples are a sure sign that summer days are numbered. That, along with much cooler temperatures and cloudy skies. The bright greens of early summer mellow and soften into duller shades. I'm not nearly ready to let go of summer yet, and we have at least another six weeks of reasonably good weather. 

I've been preserving the harvest lately. Applesauce is a hit with all the grandchildren and I make it to share. Our apple trees are loaded this year. I also made 6 apple crisps, and partially baked them before tucking them into the freezer. Fig jam joined the apricot and raspberry jars made earlier. 

The garden is producing steadily - green beans, zucchini, lettuce, and tomatoes. I harvested onions a couple of weeks ago and yesterday put in some winter kale, broccoli, and leeks. We are fortunate to have such a mild climate. Ratatouille was on the menu last night and I spent several hours chopping eggplant, zucchini, red bell pepper, onion, tomato and garlic, along with thyme, rosemary, and parsley, then sauteeing each vegetable separately before adding a squeeze of lemon and some basil. I made enough to put three more meals into the freezer. 

My sweet mother celebrated her 85th birthday this week. My sister held a party on Sunday. We didn't attend, but on the morning of her birthday I called Mom before she went to her regular day of quilting at MCC to wish her a happy day. I had sent a package over earlier. Then, I drove to the ferry and crossed to the mainland. My dad met me outside the quilt room (he was in on the surprise) and together we walked into the room. I'll always remember the look of surprise on my mom's face - priceless! I took them out for lunch and we visited for a bit at their home, then I drove back to the ferry and was home again shortly after 7. It was a long day, but so worth it!

I have no idea what this dahlia's name is, but she's a showy creature, producing bloom after bloom of coral-coloured flowers. 

Cosmos are growing taller than I am, with cheerful pink blooms. Zinnias, roses, hydrangeas - the garden is awash is colour as the flowers put out their best effort knowing that the season is short. 

Sunset arrives earlier each day. We took a walk along the water around 8 pm and watch the sun slip in and out of the clouds on its way down behind the islands. 

I'll be tackling the job of cleaning out the deep freezer tomorrow. It would have been easier to do it before starting to fill it up, but that didn't get done. I want to organize it better as it's in a bit of a shambles just now. Do you keep a written inventory of what's in your freezer, or is it all in your head? Mine is the latter, but my daughter is inspiring me to consider the former. 

Happy Weekend, dear readers. Take time to enjoy the beauty of each day.  

In a Field of Sunflowers

 

I have had a heavy heart these past few days. So much of the world seems spectacularly broken. I ache for the people of Haiti, and for those in Afghanistan, particularly the women and girls, and I feel so very helpless. Wildfires continue to roar across our province, devouring towns, homes, and hectares and hectares of forest. A most unnecessary election has been called in my country, and Covid cases rise in the unvaccinated population. Our Iranian friends are very sad because her mother is currently in ICU in Iran, and A feels very far away from her family. There are few vaccines available there. Logic and common sense seem to have fled the world. 

And yet. 

In my garden there is a profusion of beauty - hydrangeas, roses, zinnias, dahlias, cosmos, and more. I go out into the cool morning and pluck green beans from the climbing vines and peer under huge squash leaves to discover zucchini that seem to have exploded overnight. The tomatoes are, at last, beginning to ripen and I pop a red cherry globe, warm from the sun, into my mouth and sweetness explodes. 

I am grateful for my place in this world. It is a gift that I do not take lightly. 

On Sunday we enjoyed the company of two of our grands while their parents enjoyed a day to themselves to celebrate an anniversary. A new sign along the highway alerted us to a Sunflower Walk, so we thought we'd explore. There were lots of photo opportunities and we had so much fun winding in and out of the tall sunflowers and posing in front of the cut outs. 

Six varieties of sunflowers lifted their faces to the sun. The temperature was not too hot, and not too cold, but just right. 

Does this American Gothic couple look familiar to you? 

The pinkish petals of this sunflower glow against the light and its beauty is juxtaposed alongside the ugliness of world events. How resilient is earth's beauty, and how soothing it is. Beauty does not erase brokenness, but something in me, and in most humans, was created to absorb beauty, and, as Wendell Berry writes to "come into the peace of wild things" and to "rest in the grace of the world." 

Daily beauty lies all around us and calls us to notice. What is beautiful in your world just now?

  

Friday Favourites

 

Here we are at the end of July already. As Shakespeare noted, "Summer's lease hath all too short a date". I want to laze around and soak in the beauty and warmth, but I also want to make the most of summer weather. Bright colours fill the garden beds - zinnias, echinacea, rudbeckia, and more. Tall white phlox tones things down, and the big bushes of blue hydrangeas dominate other areas. The garden is very, very dry. We've not had any measurable rain for 50 days, and there's none in the forecast. 

Our weekend camping trip was a lot of fun. It was impossible to find four campsites in our provincial parks due to incredible demand, so we settled for a private campground alongside a river. The three eldest grands had a wonderful time exploring the rocky shoreline. They were gone for long lengths of time, and it was a delight to see them engaging with the natural world so freely. They created a little "fort" in the woods that we were invited to visit on the last day. 

Here at home the garden is producing beets and carrots, lettuce, zucchini, and Swiss Chard. The other night I roasted baby carrots and beets, and set them on a spread of drained plain yogurt, and topped them with lemon zest, chopped cashews, and a good sprinkle of snipped chives. A squeeze of lemon juice over all added the finishing touch. It made a good accompaniment to grilled chicken.

I've had grands visiting this week during the day while their parents work. On Tuesday we baked and decorated a cake, on Wednesday they created a fort in the living room with the sofa cushions and happily read for quite some time. We played Set, a matching card game. Thursday we went to the beach where they discovered a driftwood structure and added to it. It was big enough for both of them to sit comfortably inside. They are growing up so quickly. 

This morning I made apricot jam before going to the beach. It's my mother's recipe and has pineapple and a hint of orange in it. The golden jars will sit quietly on the basement shelves until we open them and spread summer on buttered toast. 

We're in for a few very hot days again, but nothing like the heat dome we had last month. It's a long weekend here and we're planning a walk with friends on Monday morning when it should be a bit cooler. Happy Weekend, dear friends!

Around Home on a Friday

 

That was a fast week! After being away it's good to get back into a routine. The intense heat is gone, and the weather is very pleasant. Unfortunately, the wildfires are increasing and we might be in for a smoky summer. 

I've been admiring the vivid chartreuse vine against the cobalt blue container. It's a new plant that I'm trying this summer and it won't be the last. What a shot of vibrant colour to set off the usual pinks and blues of my pots. The sweet peas in the back pot have many sunburned leaves and I thought I might lose them, but the new growth is fine. No blooms there yet, although the ones planted elsewhere are just beginning.

I made a batch of blackberry shrub - a syrup concentrate that one adds to plain water (or club soda, I suppose). It's very refreshing and when I enjoy it on the patio, surrounded by blooming roses and hydrangeas, it's like a mini-holiday. 

Marian Parsons of Miss Mustard Seed fame has an e-course on Jeanne Oliver's site. I signed up for it knowing that we'd be gone for the start, but it's all recorded and self-paced. It's about painting with a limited palette, just three shades. I made these colour wheels using just three paints for each one. It's kind of addictive and I did another one yesterday. These are plain watercolour and my next one will include gouache. It's been fun to try something new. I'm itching to try some landscapes. 

Lavender bushes line the driveway and tend to overgrow there. I cut it back one sunny day and tied bundles together with string. They will dry and I'll use them in sachets for the linen closet. The bees are crazy for lavender and I found myself apologizing to them for cutting it. I did leave plenty for them to use. 

My reading stack, picked up from the library this week. I've finished Hamnet and Judith - such a sorrowful tale, and am about half-way through The Letters of Vincent Van Gogh. What a tortured soul he was, so lonely and eccentric, yet so very gifted. He expressed emotions such a range of emotions: "Life is after all enchanting" to "I can see no possibility of again having hope or courage."

This morning I've made a pot of soup using up leftover vegetables, and I plan to go for a walk before cleaning bathrooms and tidying up. We're meeting with friends this evening, and tomorrow is second-vaccine day. We'll see how the weekend plays out after that. 

A lovely summer weekend (or a winter one) is what I hope for each of you. Do you have plans?

The Dinner Party

 

Presented with a day off work (Canada Day), Tim suggested we invite some friends for dinner. Two quick phone calls and everything was set. One friend offered to bring appetizers, the other a salad. We provided the rest - grilled steaks with basil garlic butter, new baby potatoes, crispy roasted tomatoes, and a green salad. Oh, and let's not forget dessert - a frozen blueberry concoction. 

What fun to set a pretty table outdoors. It was a baby bear temperature - not too hot, not too cold - just right! Music by ABBA played in the background. The six of us, long time friends, laughed and talked about how much we had missed these get togethers. It has been well over a year since we last met, although we've gone on walks with one or the other. As the sun slid behind the hills, the air cooled, and around 9:30 our guests left, for some had to work the next day.

After a dinner party Tim and I work together to clean up the kitchen. It doesn't take long, and it's a wonderful time to chat together and go over the highlights of the evening. Everything but the glassware and big platters goes into the dishwasher. I wash the crystal in hot soapy water and he dries them to a fine finish with a linen tea towel. Going to bed knowing that the kitchen is tidy is such a great feeling. In the morning, all that's left to do is unload the dishwasher. 

This morning I received a text saying thank you (and a link to the warm cauliflower salad), and "we love eating your food." Such a lovely compliment from someone whose food I love to eat in return. 

Tonight we'll have another party on the patio to celebrate a son-in-law's birthday. There will be laughter and conversation, and I expect our guests will go home a bit earlier to put little ones to bed. And afterwards, Tim and I will chat together as we clean up. 

Do you enjoy having guests for dinner? 

The rose above is sunburned from the intense heat earlier this week. I'm happy that most of my garden fared well. 

Happy weekend, dear readers.

A Cool (Finally!) Morning in the Garden

 

Late in the evening a gentle breeze began to fill this overheated house with coolness. Such relief. We slept in our bedroom last night and I even pulled up a light blanket towards morning. Ahhhh. Rose Gertrude Jekyll this morning, seen with a few water droplets from the watering system, looks very happy. I will have to do some hard pruning today or tomorrow - I read that will encourage more blooms to appear over the summer. Here's Monty Don's advice on this. 

Some have asked about how hot it actually was. Here we reached 39 degrees (102 F). In the interior of British Columbia 46.6C (116F) was the record shattering high. 

I should have been picking blueberries and raspberries, but I couldn't face much time out in the heat. They are holding their own, though, with many berries still ripening. 

Yesterday I had Iris picking blueberries for a few minutes. She is very careful about getting only the purple ones, and they go straight into her mouth. She LOVES blueberries. 

The cosmos are putting on a show in their corner. The heat didn't seem to bother them too much. We have an automatic watering system and most of the plants did well. In the front garden the heat is more intense and the hydrangeas didn't like that. 

This hydrangea is more shaded and is just beginning to open. Such lovely creamy whites and blues. Today is hair cut day. I thought my appointment was yesterday, so I showed up at 10 AM, only to discover that perhaps the heat had addled my brain. I took the opportunity to walk in the cool mall, since I was there anyway. 

As of tomorrow most of our Covid19 restrictions will end. Masks are no longer mandatory in indoor spaces, although they are recommended for those who are not yet fully vaccinated. Social gatherings are back to normal. Church services, too, I believe. And we will celebrate Canada Day!

It will be a quiet celebration everywhere this year as we reflect not only on the very good things that define Canada, but also the very bad things such as the residential schools and the children taken from their homes, many of whom died there. We feel sorrow for those who suffered so, and look forward to a more understanding way of going forward in this wonderful land in which we live. 

As of tomorrow the email option on my blog is going away due to Feedburner discontinuing the service. I don't know how many of my readers used the service. I won't be signing up for another one, so you have a couple of options to continue reading here (and I hope you do). One is to visit my blog directly (you can bookmark it). Another is to use a subscription service such as Bloglovin or Feedly. I use the latter and have found it very useful. 

Mid-week Musings

 

Outside my window today puffy clouds are sailing across the the blue sky, signaling a rainy front moving in from the Pacific. We've had a dry spring, and rain will dampen the forests and prevent fires, so I won't complain.  

A big vase full of deep pink, white, and pale pink peonies graces the dining room table. They have such elegant and extravagant ruffles and a delicate scent. I have a dilemma in my garden, though. The peonies are in the back of a wide bed, with roses in front of them. I cut the roses way back in the dormant season and think, "yes, I'll be able to see the peonies before the roses bloom." The roses, however, grow at such tremendous speed that they hide most of the peonies. I've decided to move the peonies and have written it on my calendar for September or October. I have an idea to create another bed for them, but I'll have to speak with my hard-scaping gardener (aka Tim) about it. 

As the peonies lose their petals the roses are coming into glorious bloom. The top photo is of Boscobel - named for Boscobel House in the UK where King Charles II hid in an oak tree during the English Civil War in 1651. It's such a beautiful colour with a lovely fragrance. 

Just above are Winchester Cathedral buds. This is a pretty rose, with a delicate fragrance, but the blooms are fragile and don't hold up to cutting very well. My other white rose, Bolero, is much more robust, with a stronger fragrance. 

In a corner of the garden we installed a bed for a cutting garden. I say we, but it's Tim who did the work. I'm sure he groans inwardly when he hears, "I have an idea." For this year I've planted foxgloves, which I hope will reseed themselves, cosmos, sweet peas, zinnias, dahlias, and delphiniums. Temperatures have been below seasonal this week and everything is emerging slowly. 

My mother told me that her mother, who died before I was born, used to go out into the fields where foxgloves grow in the wild and collect the leaves. She would dry them, place them in paper bags, and send them off to a pharmaceutical company where they would be used to produce heart medication. The Latin name of foxglove digitalis purpurea is a key to the drug name - digitalis. 

Over the weekend we held an outdoor party for these two little girls. Iris is watching how Sadie blows out her candles and she was able to do the same with hers. We also hosted two indoor get togethers with individual families, so now we've had all three of our children over inside! It feels so good to be getting back to normal. 

The party was held at our eldest daughter's home. She has a beautiful Lady of Shallot rose bush that is loaded with blooms just now. It was planted in memory of 4 little ones lost to my daughter and her husband, and when I see it, I take a moment to remember them. 

This lantern collects light all day and then, as darkness falls, begins to glow. It's pretty to see the soft light on the patio as I walk by the windows late in the evening. Days are still lengthening and I love the energy the light gives me. 

I spent yesterday in the garden, and today I'll be doing some kitchen tasks. We roasted a whole salmon on the grill over the weekend and there are plenty of leftovers, so I'm making a salmon and spinach quiche for dinner, along with a big salad of lettuce and radishes from the garden. The cookie jar is almost empty so I'll fill that with something yet to be decided upon. 

Wishing you all a most lovely day!