Variegated Iris

Often gardeners are thought of as being frugal individuals. After all, gardeners recycle kitchen waste into compost, grow and put up their own food, and share and swap plants and seeds with each other--all frugal activities.

But there is another side to gardeners. For, while we will happily scour the discount bins post-season in hopes of scoring cheap seeds and plants past their prime, we will also spend rather recklessly if we find something unusual and rare. How frugal is that?

Case in point: the variegated iris. I had to have it. I don't recall what I spent for it when I bought it a couple years ago--maybe $30 or so, but I do recall it was a large-sized container and I cringed inwardly. It seemed like a lot of money at the time, and it's not THAT exotic or rare. However, since I knew I wanted it, I squelched those second thoughts as quickly and mercilessly as I do Japanese beetles on my roses. I have not regretted it.

In fact, if I wanted to, I could justify the expense and consider it money well-spent. The foliage on this plant is a spot of sunshine in early spring, and it lasts well into summer. The cheerful purple flowers are a mid-spring delight. Like other irises, the variegated sort multiplies freely. I expect to be dividing them in another year or so. Frugal!

Right now, this is the only variety of iris in my garden. I longingly peruse catalogs and the offerings of fellow gardeners, but I hesitate to indulge. While nothing can beat the form and splashy color of irises in the spring garden, they tend to have a relatively short bloom period. And the foliage, especially on bearded irises, gets ragged after a while. Because of this, I haven't quite figured out how to work irises into my mixed flower bed.

While visiting in southeast Ohio last weekend I was invited to tour a private garden which featured long rows of heirloom irises in a rainbow of colors. It was stunning, to say the least. I didn't ask what was in the beds the rest of the year, and I wish I had. I might have learned how to better work this old-fashioned beauty into my own garden. Variegated Iris photo by JulenaJo.

Icebergs in May

Whenever I visit a nursery or garden, my eye is drawn to the unusual. That's how the two roses above found their way into my garden. 'Brilliant Pink Iceberg' is at the top, a lovely rose that looks as though its light pink petals were hand painted with strokes of deeper pink.

'Brilliant Pink Iceberg' is a floribunda rose, a relative of the classic 'Iceberg,' aka 'Scheewittchen' (Snow White, introduced in 1958) from the house of Kordes in Germany. It's not too tall in my garden, well under 3 feet, and it blooms prolifically. It resists black spot and disease, and the blooms have a sweet, light rose scent. The buds are long and pointed and beautiful to watch as they unfurl. Best of all, it's got an unexpected knot of deep burgundy stamens at the center when the flowers fully open. That's what caught my eye when I first saw the rose--that distinctive and unusual dark center.

Last year I added 'Burgundy Iceberg' to my garden. The second rose above, 'Burgundy Iceberg' features striking, dark, wine colored blooms, and the nice size and shape, lovely pointed buds, and overall good health of its famous relatives. It surprised me with its very first blossom this spring, however. Some of the petals are pristine white--obviously flaunting its noble 'Iceberg' heritage. These Iceberg descendants show a lot of variation in their coloring, as a Google image search reveals. It will be interesting to see how 'Burgundy' performs for the rest of the season.

Notes: Gourdo's mom welcomed mama cat and the trio of kittens. We will help her neuter or spay them when the time comes. Almost all the roses in my garden bloomed this weekend. Many of the flower seeds planted in the cutting garden are up. I'm looking forward to having tomorrow off to putter about the yard and gardens. Thank a veteran! Brilliant Pink and Burgundy Iceberg photos by JulenaJo.

Today's Trash

Why do people think they can dump unwanted pets in the country? It is something I have seen many times over the years, and each time it blows me away.

Mama and her 3 kittens were deposited near our house yesterday. I have no idea by whom or when. The coward no doubt opened his or her car door and plunked her and her litter onto the ground and drove off hurriedly, before anyone could notice.

The cats are clean and well-kept. Judging from how mama wants to come right into the house with us, I expect she lived at least part of her life with a human family, indoors. She's loving and affectionate. I believe this must be her first litter as she is barely full grown herself.

Mama hid her kittens and scoped out the situation at our house after being left behind. Are these people friendly? Do they like cats? Will they have food and water? Will my babies be safe with them? Can we sleep here?

Maybe it seems like I'm giving this creature human thoughts, and you think I shouldn't do that. But once she saw we welcomed her and fed her, mama brought her kittens to the door. As soon as a rug-lined box was rustled up, she nested there with her babies. She ate and drank. She purred. She followed us as we worked about the yard and garden. She still seems to love people, even after being abandoned.

We would love to keep these kittens and their mother, but it is simply not practical for us. First of all, we already have a cat, Jasmine, and two dogs, Boo and Roxy. Boo has a strong hunting instinct. I'm afraid she might view these kittens as prey. Secondly, we would have to spay or neuter all of them, and this is a bad time for us to come up with that kind of money. So, the bottom line is, we have to do what the previous owner shirked doing: we have to find homes for these adorable creatures.

We are visiting Gourdo's mother this holiday weekend and will bring the cats to her house. She has agreed to take two of them, but the kittens are not quite old enough to leave their mother. I'm hoping she will keep the entire litter until the kittens are weaned. Then we can all try to find a home for the remaining two cats.

Note: Willy White Socks, above, has extra toes. He and one of his siblings are six or seven-toed. The third kitten and mama do not. The technical term for this is polydactyl. Ernest Hemingway had a polydactyl cat, and the many-toed descendants of his cat live on today at his former home and museum in Key West, Florida, where they are provided for by the terms of his will. Cat Photos by JulenaJo.

Double Blanc de Coubert: A Dazzler

Every day there is something new in the garden. Today it was Double Blanc de Coubert bursting into bloom. The sight and scent of this rose are magnificent. Remember how severely I pruned my roses just a short while ago? Obviously, it did not harm them any. The white of these petals is dazzling, without a hint of cream or pink. Seldom in nature does one see such a pure, unadulterated white. The blossoms remind me of new white sheets, freshly laundered, hanging on a line to dry. The petals are even slightly rumpled, the way linens would be as they flap in the breeze.

Double Blanc de Coubert is hardy to zone 3 or 4, reblooms all season long, resists disease and pests, and needs little care, although deadheading is recommended, as it is with most roses. It's said to reach 6 ft. in height and width, but it attains probably half that size in my zone 5 garden--very manageable. On the downside, Double Blanc de Coubert doesn't take well to the vase. It begins to wither almost immediately upon cutting. Even on the plant, the blossoms fade quickly and unattractively. Since new buds are always coming on, that's not much of a problem, in my opinion.

Notes: The first iris blossom opened today. A ruby-throated hummingbird, male, has been visiting the coral bells every day. Planted tomatoes and peppers today. Still have a few flowers to get in, and some seeds to plant. The first gourd has sprouted. Lots to do before the holiday weekend takes us away! Double Blanc de Coubert Photo by JulenaJo.

Stern Task Master

There hasn't been as much activity in the blog as I'd like, but there has been activity in the garden. With his unblinking, green glass eyes, the clay tile lizard has been overseeing it all from a sunny spot between the ajuga and the ranunculus repens. The ajuga was rescued last year from the lawn. It was ground cover around the old house. The old flower beds were razed and turned to lawn and ajuga came up every year, but was mowed before it bloomed. Last year I dug some up and put it in the flower bed, where, as you see in the second photo, it is thriving. The bees love it because it blooms so early and there are so few sources of nectar then. Bumblebees in particular seem drawn to it. I love it, because it's attractive and crowds out weeds, but is not overly aggressive.

The ranunculus is not a dense ground cover, but spreads with loosely thrown runners and offers cheerful yellow bloom that takes up after the daffodils fade. I'm happy to let it spread wherever it will.

The third photo above shows the drumstick allium that I planted last fall--and the sad state of my flower bed. It's much less weedy now, as I spent quite a bit of time on it this weekend. I hoed and pulled and planted and moved things around. In addition to the work on the flower bed, I planted several rows of flowers in what I hope will become a cutting garden. The cutting garden is back by "Gourdhenge," the timber structure in the background of the allium photo. A variety of sunflowers, zinnias, cosmos and other old-fashioned flowers went into the rows. If they do well, I plan to sell bunches of them at a local farmer's market this summer. We shall see!

At any rate, the work outdoors leaves little time for blogging, and much more remains to be done. Packets of seeds, tomato and pepper plants, and bags of mulch are all over the house and patio, begging silently for attention. Eventually, the bulk of the work will be finished. I can sit with my feet up and enjoy the fruits of my labor. For now, though, it's almost overwhelming.

Oh, the green-eyed garden lizard is a stern task master! He cannot follow me into the house at night, though. I'll sneak a little writing in here and there as time permits. Cheers! Lizard, Ajuga and Mid-Spring Garden View Photos by JulenaJo.

The First Rose to Bloom: Rose de Rescht

The first rose to bloom in the garden this year: Rose de Rescht. What a lovely old garden rose!

While many old roses bloom only once, in spring, Rose de Rescht is classified as a Portland rose and reblooms all season. This small class of roses is among the first European hybrids bred from Chinese imports. The class earned its name from Margaret Cavendish, the Duchess of Portland (1715-1785), who used her wealth to amass great collections of art and natural history, flora and fauna. She established a zoo, an aviary and a botanical garden, which is sadly long gone.

The Portland class, including Rose de Rescht, is repeat-blooming and fragrant, perhaps due to ancestry that includes autumn damask, 'Quatre Saisons' (Rosa damascena bifera). Rose de Rescht bloom are fully double pompoms of vivid cerise red, almost fuchsia, with hints of magenta. The blooms are not large, only 2-3 inches in diameter, but the intense color makes them pop in the garden. The rose is reliably hardy in zones 4-9 and will attain a modest size of 2 by 3 feet.

I found a wonderful article on the web, if you're interested in reading up on this wonderful rose: http://www.pswdistrict.org/text/articles/romnov04.html. As Rose de Rescht is one of the roses I planted late last season, I am just getting to know her myself. That first bloom is a winner, though. I'm sure it will be a long and happy acquaintance. Rose de Rescht photos by JulenaJo.

Boo-Boo: Skunked!

Skunks eat grubs. Did you know that? I like skunks better than Japanese beetles, whose larvae hide in my lawn and flower beds. So, if skunks are eating those, I guess I can like them for that reason. I really hate Japanese beetles, though, so you can imagine how little I like skunks.

However, in my world, as in yours I have no doubt, skunks and dogs do not mix. Meet Boo, the Great White Hunter. The horribly smelly, stinky, Great White Hunter. Small mammals -- BEWARE!

Boo is a white German shepherd-mystery mutt mix, rescued from a farmhouse where puppies were viewed with no affection whatsoever. When I found her, she was a miserable six-week-old with runny nose and eyes, flea-riddled and terrified of humans, especially men. She cowered whenever I got out the broom to sweep the floors. She hid from men as a pup and growled at them as an adult. Her tail was kinked and bald, as a steer had stepped on her in the barn where she and the other pups were living, their only solid food coming from table scraps that undoubtedly did not provide them with proper nourishment.

I feared it was a mistake to adopt one of these obviously troubled puppies, but my daughter insisted. We put the pup in a cardboard box and got in the car. On the way home, my daughter tried to come up with a name, "Princess! Beauty! Snowball!" All woeful misnomers. I glanced in the rear-view mirror at the pathetic creature peering out of the box and said, "Poor little boo-boo." When we got home and plopped the puppy at Gourdo's feet, a father's day present, he said, "Where'd you get this boo-boo?" I looked at our daughter and said, "Sorry, kiddo, I think we have the puppy's name: Boo it is."

Boo has been a challenge from the beginning, but she's family. I don't entirely trust her around small children or small animals. She no longer is quite so fierce (terrified) around men, but whenever she's nervous about anything she growls. She still casts a dubious eye at the broom, retreating to another room if I get within 10 feet of her with it. Roxy came to live with us when Boo was 4 and I was concerned about how Boo would treat her, but the relationship they've worked out has brought a lot of laughter into our lives. Roxy jumps on Boo, bites her, steals her food and toys--and Boo tolerates it all with uncharacteristic good humor. Roxy never does a thing without looking to see what Boo does first. Roxy has mellowed Boo and brought out her good side.

Anyway, I've digressed. Back to skunks.

The first skunk Boo encountered had wandered into our attached garage seeking garbage or maybe shelter. Boo cornered it behind the trash cans, and I thought it was a kitten. She dragged it from its hiding place by the scruff of the neck, and I was right behind her, yelling, "Drop it, Boo! Drop it!" My son, hearing the commotion from the house, opened the garage door just as I realized it wasn't a kitten but a skunk. I backpedaled out of the garage, shrieking, "CLOSE THE DOOR! CLOSE THE DOOR! SKUNK!"

Boo was sprayed. The garage was sprayed. The entire house reeked for weeks.

Apparently, Boo didn't remember that lesson earlier this week when she discovered a skunk in the woods. She came trotting home across the field from the woods--you know that happy jaunt dogs have with the wide, toothy grin and waving plume of tail? That was Boo. The stink preceded her like a breaker--no, a tsunami. Gourdo hosed her while I scrubbed with vinegar and dishwashing liquid. She spent a couple of days out of the house. I think we have most of it off her, though, as she's merely funky now, rather than skunky.

As ever, she is still our boo-boo. Boo photo by JulenaJo; skunk photo from Wikipedia.

Bargain Shrub

Because I'm always looking for a steal when I shop for garden plants, sometimes I don't get what I bargained for. The above plant is one such "bargain." I ordered it online from a website I read about last year that offered "free" plants. The site offered several items that I wished to incorporate into my garden, so I took the bait. I had checked out the site to see if it was scam and the only complaints that I could find were that the items were very small. I didn't care about that--after all they were "free." Of course, the shipping and handling were monstrous. Still, I reasoned, I'd be getting a lot of material for my buck.

Much of what I ordered did not "take" in my garden. I sort of figured it was a gamble, so I was disappointed but not overly so. The nanking cherries survived and blossomed this year, so that was good. One of the two echinops ritro survived and looks great. Two New England asters are coming up gangbusters--I guess those are practically foolproof. I found the baby's breath while I was weeding, and it survived winter only to take a serious hit when I inadvertantly whacked it with a hoe. I hope it recovers.

The above plants--there are two, and the heartiest of them is in bloom now--thrived. But what are they? I have absolutely no idea. I ordered American highbush cranberry. I don't think that's what this is. Don't they bloom white and have a different shape of leaf? Whatever this is, it's very attractive, and I'm pleased with it. I just wonder if it will bear fruit and what size it will get to be? Does anyone out there know? If so, enlighten me, please! Mystery Shrub photos by JulenaJo.

Oh, Happy May!

Happy May Day!

Let me share one of the most wonderful and miraculous things about spring: new life.

This little fellow was born a bit over a week ago on a Sunday evening at the farm where my daughter works and boards her horse. We were responsible for watching over mama over that weekend as the owners had to be out of town for a family wedding. Mama was one restless and uncomfortable gal. We were so nervous for her!

I think she waited for her people to get home, though, because they weren't there very long on Sunday night before little "Jeff" made his appearance. We received a phone call, and my daughter and I were there within half an hour of his birth. We stayed for about two hours. I could not tear myself away before he learned two things: legs and milk.

Never have I seen anything so miraculous before, nor so incredibly cute. He staggered around the barn on rubbery legs, completely unable to control where he went. After the first half hour or so, he began to suck whenever his muzzle encountered Mama, nuzzling her belly, legs, and flanks. It was blindly, instinctively, knowing there was something wonderful near, but not quite knowing how to attain it. Mama watched proudly and protectively. She didn't seem to mind if he stumbled near a human, but let him get too close to another horse (even though they were all locked in their stalls and could only watch through barred openings) and the surprised onlooker was given a show of heels. Finally, he found nourishment, and at that moment everyone breathed a sigh of relief--even mama, I think! And I felt silly, but there were tears of joy in my eyes.

That was then. Now, of course, he has complete mastery of his knobby-kneed legs. He bucks and twists and cavorts just for the thrill of it. "Look at me!" "Watch this!" "See what I can do!" Then he prances over to gaze at visitors, and his shy, innocent eyes are fringed with the most incredibly long eyelashes. It takes my breath away just to look at him.

Oh, Happy May!

"Jeff" photos by Gourdo.

Framing a Dream

This is the beginning of a gourd man's vision. Old timbers. Nails. Sweat.

Gourdhenge: It must be sturdy enough to withstand high winds, lashing rainstorms, and the unbelievable weight of many gourds. It must be tall enough so that long-handled dipper gourds can stretch to lengths of over six feet.

We aren't talking about any old gourds here. We're talking prize winners.

Gourdhenge and Prizewinners photos by JulenaJo.

Musings, Mystery, and Gourdhenge

Today, at last, we had warm weather. I saw the thermometer on the bank sign in town read 80 degrees Fahrenheit. A brisk breeze kept things comfortable. Tomorrow is supposed to be similar, I think. About time!

I managed to get into the yard a bit after work to assess the pruning I did last weekend and to see what is new. Although I am pleased to see the fragrant pink viburnum blossoms are opening (Viburnum carlesii 'Juddii') and the grape hyacinth, wild violets, and 'Thunderchild' crabapple, too, I was disappointed to see the forsythia won't have any more flowers. The plant bloomed at the very bottom, but nowhere else. It looks as though there will be no blooms on the Cleveland pear or on the dogwood, either. What gives? It's a mystery.

I wonder if it was the colder than usual spring? I noticed it didn't seem to affect weeds any. I'll have a bumper crop of dandelions and thistle to tangle with this year.

Gourdo took advantage of the good weather this afternoon to harvest old timbers from a fallen barn next door. (With the owner's permission, of course.) He's happily sawing and pounding out nails tonight, planning a "Gourdhenge." Gourdhenge is his term of endearment for a huge, rough timber arbor covered in gourd vines. He created one several years go, and has always longed for another. Gourd vines grow so rambunctiously it won't be long before the monstrosity is covered in a tangle of green. A galaxy of nightblooming blossoms will cover the arbor and, eventually, gourds of all sizes and shapes will garland the structure. It's really something to see--even if gourds aren't your cup of tea. Above you see little Roxy, bravely sitting in the gourd patch of two years ago. Ok. Not so bravely. You'd never catch me sitting out there like that. Those gourds'll getcha if you sit still too long. I'll stick with roses. Gourd photo by Gourdo.

Pruning Day

"I think I killed my rose bush."
This was an unsolicited comment from a woman in the Kmart nursery section. We were standing, side-by-side, perusing the selection of roses for sale.
"What did you do to it?" I asked.
"I pruned it," she said.
"Well, I don't think you killed it by pruning it," I assured her. Then I asked her what kind of rose it was. She had no idea; it was there when she bought the house.
After a brief discussion, I deduced that perhaps her rose was a hybrid tea that had died down to its rootstock. I suggested the possibility to her and her bewildered look spoke volumes. She had no idea there were things like hybrid tea, floribunda and grandiflora roses, much less grafted, budded and own-root roses. I tried to explain about grafting and I sensed it was all too much.
"Could you help me pick out another rose to replace it?" she asked.
I could and did. All she wanted was a rose that bloomed a lot and didn't need any care. Well, to my mind that ruled out all but the Knock Outs and perhaps a 'Nearly Wild.' She left very happy with a Double Pink Knock Out and a jug of systemic "2-in-1" rose food, another suggestion of mine. It is a granular fertilizer that also keeps aphids and thrips at bay. They even have "3-in-1" now, that keeps black spot and other rose diseases under control. You never have to spray!
After I sold her on the product I added, "It's a great product, but you can't eat your roses if you use it!" Another bewildered look.
Sometimes I can't help myself.

There are a number of good books and web sites that cover pruning roses. I have read them and am still somewhat bewildered myself! It all seems like too much work. Basically, what I do is let roses go until spring. On a nice day in March, I go out and shorten any really long stems by about one third, trying to cut above an outward facing "eye." At this time of year, it's hard to tell for sure, so I don't worry too much about it.
Then, once leaves break out, I get more serious. I cut out any branches that show no signs of life and I ruthlessly thin out the bush, eliminating crossing branches, any that are too low or misshapen or that grow to the inside of the shrub. I aim for an up and out look. I then shorten the branches another third or so, and here I am more careful to cut 45 degrees down and inside and just above a bit of new growth that is pointed in the direction I want the rose to grow--generally out and up.
The three new roses that I planted last year all get just a light trimming of the dead ends with a hedge clippers. No worry about individual branches and growth direction. I just want any and all healthy growth this year.
All that being said, if a rose dies, it wasn't meant to be. My best advice is to buy healthy and hardy roses and let nature run its course. And a little "3-in-1" doesn't hurt, either. Pruning Photos by JulenaJo.

Easter Bounty

Our Easter weekend was spent in Hocking Hills--a good 3-hour drive southeast of us. Everything is a good two weeks ahead of us there, and it's never more apparent than in the early spring. Most obvious was the Bradford pear trees which made a stunning show everywhere. They aren't blooming here yet. My kids commented that we should have them in our yard, too, but beautiful as they are, I won't. I do have a Cleveland pear, however. It's supposed to be less prone to breakage. We will see!

But that wasn't the best part of our weekend. Read on...

The rain on Good Friday, followed by sunshine on Saturday and Sunday prompted wild morel mushrooms to pop from the forest floor. My three kids range from 16 to nearly 22--far too old for Easter egg hunts. They hunted morels instead, and what an exciting hunt it was! There seems to be no rhyme or reason as to where morels decide to make an appearance. The only thing is, if you find one, you will undoubtedly find others nearby. Finding the first one is the hardest. You scour the leaf litter for a wrinkled grayish brown nugget, feeling that it's hopeless. Then suddenly, there one is, just before you! My sister-in-law said she thinks they pop up behind her when she's walking along. "I don't see any at all, then I turn to walk back and there they are, right where I passed only a moment before."

Our bounty was washed, patted dry, sliced in half, then dredged lightly in seasoned flour. After sauteeing in butter they were enjoyed by one and all. Yummy!

Easter Sermon--Fool for Christ

Roses for Easter. Of course. Now, allow me a moment of preachiness. Pass this post by if you aren't interested in Good News. I won't be offended.

May your holiday fill you with the "peace of God, which passes all understanding." (Phil. 4:7.) That is my new/old catchphrase, having recently read a small book by Joyce Meyer, called "Peace: Cast All Your Cares Upon Him." It came to my attention at the Library at a time when I needed it, as I've been worrying about family and the dire economy. Who isn't these days? It's had me in knots.

However, maybe, just maybe, wringing hands and wailing will accomplish nothing. Maybe we can "wait upon the Lord" (Is. 40:31.) with an attitude of happiness instead. Would that be foolish? I don't think so, but if it is, I don't care. I choose happiness. I choose Christ.

Yes, Christians are fools. Fools for Christ. (1 Cor. 4:10.) I know it sounds crazy to believe in Jesus and His divinity. While we can easily believe that He was brutalized and put to death, we sometimes have trouble with the idea of Him being raised in glory. And yet, in spite of the spin the media puts on Christianity, even today Christian churches everywhere will be filled with joyous followers. What kept the first disciples, who faced ridicule at the least and brutal death at the most, true to their story? What keeps us going today? It's an age-old question. It's one you won't see the media touching.

Christians are happy fools. We know there is One who has power over death. Once you wrap your heart and mind around that fact, it is totally liberating. Yes, we can be happy, no matter what. Wow. How amazing is that?

Happy Easter!

Kaleidoscopic Colorplay

Kaleidoscopic colorplay is what I seek in my garden, and few plants deliver this as beautifully as Flutterbye, above. Red buds open to fragrant, single yellow roses that turn orangey red as they age. All colors can be found in a single spray. I love the hot colors and the cheerful countenance of this reblooming rose. A vigorous shrub, Flutterbye will attain a height and width of 6 to 8 feet, and can be trained as a climber. Flutterbye is hardy in my zone 5 garden and shows resistance to black spot, mildew and rust. Flutterbye Rose photo by JulenaJo.

Easy Edging

Shown above is a trio of tatted edgings that I've recently been working on. Busywork, really. The upper left bit was supposed to be a tatted heart, but I completed one half and realized I'd made a mistake and had to abort the project. I may use the resultant 3 inches or so on a card or collage. Tatbits are too pretty and precious to waste.

The light orange edging, composed of split rings, I started simply because a friend gave me a ball of pretty thread and I wanted to practice split rings. It's delicate and would be a lovely collar trim.

It's the center edging that most intrigues me. It's one of the simplest edgings I've ever done, and it is also one of the most attractive. To me it looks like an Arts & Crafts motif of leaves. In fact, my 19-year-old daughter, who teasingly refers to tatting as "twiddling," made the comment that she would like a necklace made of this lace. Maybe I'll work it up in color and present it to her on her birthday. It's all rings, so I'm using up several bobbins and Clover shuttles worth of white thread remnants. I want to free up those shuttles and bobbins for other projects. A bonus is I can carry the single shuttle required for this edging in a small plastic bag with me to pull out whenever I have a few minutes to work on it. The pattern couldn't be simpler, a repeat of four rings performed thusly:

Ring A: 4 ds, p, 4 ds, p, 8 ds, rw.
Ring B: 4 ds, p, 4 ds.
*Ring C: 4 ds, p, 4 ds, p, 8 ds, rw.
Ring D: 4 ds, join to last picot of previous ring A, 4 ds.
Ring A: as above.
Ring B: 4 ds, join to last picot of previous ring C, 4 ds.
Repeat from * for desired length.

Easy!
Tatted Edgings photo by JulenaJo.

Fickle is Typical

It's hard to believe that in a few short weeks the ornamental peach tree in the front yard will look like this. Pleasant weather over the last week or so teased leaf buds out along the branches, but so far they remain tightly closed. The dismal forecast for next week: cloudy, windy, and possibility of snow. I hope the hidden blossoms aren't lost to the cold.
This spring seems atypical to me. However, I'm not sure there even is such a thing as typical April weather--unless fickle can be considered typical.The hyacinths and daffodils seem shorter and later than usual, but at least they're making an appearance. The forsythia is blooming at the bottom of the shrub, where the branches are protected by grass, but the buds on the upper branches remain tightly closed so I don't see color unless I'm standing right next to it, looking down. Any day now all of these first flowers should open. It will be interesting to see what they do in the cold. Will the flowers be unfazed by snow showers? How do such fragile-looking blossoms withstand the cold? I wish roses could bloom in the snow. But each flower blooms in its season, and I appreciate them all the more for the wait. Peach Tree photo by JulenaJo.

And The World Thinks Go

"April prepares her green traffic light and the world thinks Go."
- Christopher Morley, John Mistletoe

"April hath put a spirit of youth in everything."
- William Shakespeare

April is a promise that May is bound to keep, and we know it."
- Hal Borland

"Hark, I hear a robin calling!
List, the wind is from the south!
And the orchard-bloom is falling
Sweet as kisses on the mouth.

In the dreamy vale of beeches
Fair and faint is woven mist,
And the river's orient reaches
Are the palest amethyst.

Every limpid brook is singing
Of the lure of April days;
Every piney glen is ringing
With the maddest roundelays.

Come and let us seek together
Springtime lore of daffodils,
Giving to the golden weather
Greeting on the sun-warm hills."
- Lucy Maud Montgomery, Spring Song

Oh, and April is National Poetry Month, to boot.
Enjoy! Happy April, everyone! Fuchsia photo by JulenaJo.

The Day Awaits

I'm giving myself--and you, friends--a pick-me-up nosegay. The fickle spring weather has brought me a little low. Last week was sunny and fairly mild, but today the temperature outside is dropping. Early morning sunshine has disappeared under a ragged layer of cloud that holds promise of raindrops and maybe even a few flakes of snow.

It's tempting to give in to a full-blown sulk, but before crawling back into bed and pulling the blankets over my head, I think I'll do something creative. I have a tatting work-in-progress. Art supplies beckon. I've two or three books at hand that I could delve into, including: Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese and Laughter on the Stairs, the Beverley Nichols sequel to Merry Hall, which I wrote about on March 12.

As I peruse these options, the day doesn't seem quite so lost. Instead, it looks more like a gift. Of course, as I wrote this I sipped a large, energizing cup of coffee. I must be off. The remainder of the day awaits! Nosegay clipart from Dover.

Golden Wings

I don't remember when I first met the lovely rose, Golden Wings, but I do remember doing a double-take and saying, "Wow!" A large shrub or low climber covered with 5-inch, single blossoms of pale yellow, Golden Wings makes a beautiful statement in the garden. Each blossom is sweetly fragrant and sports a silky knot of stamens in its heart. Hardy in zones 4-9 and easy to grow, with attractive, medium green foliage, Golden Wings might be just what you need in your garden--especially if you want a bold shot of soft yellow there--and in your floral bouquets.

Golden Wings may be trained attractively up a trellis or sprawled over a fence, as I first saw it, but in my own garden I grew it openly as a shrub, allowing it ample room to gracefully spread to its full 4- to 6-foot height and equal width. The sunny yellow flowers complemented all the pinks and reds in my garden. Blue or purple flowers would be electric beside it.

Although Golden Wings received the America Rose Society Gold Medal in 1958, and the Royal Horticultural Society Award of Garden Merit in 1993, an online search provided few links to nurseries supplying it. I did find it at www.davidaustinroses.com. A quick tour of the David Austin online catalog is dizzying, with each offering more gorgeous than the last. Check it out! Golden Wings photo by JulenaJo.