Blissful surprises for Garden Bloggers Bloom Day

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen and all the ships at sea, welcome to another round of Garden Bloggers Bloom Day, created for your viewing pleasure by the always-delightful Carol of May Blooms Gardens! This particular episode of GBBD is of great satisfaction to me because, finally, I have something outside I can share with you all.


Let's get right to the entertainments for this lovely cold but sunny day, starting out with the crocus collection. Although schoolbus yellow is not my favourite shade of yellow at the rest of the year, it's like sunshine made solid at this season, when spring is still a little coy, winds have some bite in them, and most of the garden is still shuddering off its old drab winter coat.


These little darlings have wine-purple accents on their slightly different shade of yellow, and I can see them from the house with no trouble at all.


Hamamelis 'Diane', who has been working on flowering for about two months now is in comfortable and wonderful full bloom. The only drawback is that this cultivar doesn't have the fragrance of some, but I plan to add 'Arnold's Promise' and 'Jelena' to the garden very soon, as well as our native species.


A couple of the heaths, glad to be clear of their winter mulch--only put down to protect them from the cold drying winds of midwinter--are just yawning and stretching and preparing to flower in the next couple of weeks. Although all my heaths and heathers are small, I have more heathers than I do heaths. But I'm going to Bunchberry Nurseries on Saturday to give a talk, and will promptly remedy my heath-shortage at that time.


If memory serves me correctly--it very often does not--these are pink flowered chionodoxa, or glory-of-the-snow. They are in the rock-garden in a south-facing spot, and tend to come up promptly and joyously as soon as sunlight hits them regularly.


These aren't flowers, obviously, but I just love the way Sedum 'Angelina' is contrasting with the rich deep colour of the sempervivum, don't you?


A host of single-form galanthus has popped up out in the back garden. I don't remember planting them and I don't seem to have photos from other years--normally there are a few leucojum or summer snowflakes here, but not for quite a few weeks yet. Maybe they've spontaneously generated, knowing of my love for snowdrops of any size or colour?


Looking a little tattered, but still sweetly charming, the first of the Johnny Jump-ups that freerange around here have opened up to the sun. I happen to adore any viola, and these remind me of my grandmother, who loved them too.


After several days of wet weather, the paddock had dried up enough that we could put Leggo and his donkey-from-Mars out today. Leggo has been charging around the paddock snorting and bucking and acting silly a good part of the day, while that tangle of feet in the background is Jenny, down for a roll to scratch her back.


There were two things outside today I was especially happy to see. This is the first one--common as can be, but still cheering to my heart. It's coltsfoot (Tussilago farfara) the first wildflower to start blooming here; its little yellow flowers come up first, followed by its big thick leaves in a couple of weeks time. Now all I need to hear is the frogs glunking--they haven't started yet, probably still thawing out, but their songs and the coltsfoot blooms tells me that it IS spring, no matter the temperature or the precipitation.


And this...can it possibly BE???? Thanks, I am sure, to Frances of Faire Garden, who advised me some weeks ago on what to do with my hellebore plant...IT'S GOING TO FLOWER! Jubilation reigns supreme. This is good gardening karma, which to my mind proves that Kylee is gonna have blue poppies, and Lisa is going to have annual poppies, (but I can't remember where she told us about her poppy challenges) and...well, whatever challenges YOU is going to behave itself this year.

Ohhhhh. I hope I haven't jinxed myself by showing these hellebore buds...

To wrap up today's post, thank you so much to whomever of you nominated Bloomingwriter for Mouse and Trowel awards. I'm very touched by your support, especially as the nominations land me in the company of some of MY favourite bloggers. There are so many marvelous blogs out there, it's hard to pick only a few, and I want to vote for everyone. (but we only get one ballot, so I've had to flip a coin in a few cases.) I'd just like to win the LOTTERY, so then I could go visit everyone--or bring everyone here for a visit in midsummer. Bouquets to all of you, and best wishes to all the nominees.

Buying Local: Supporting Our Local Nurseries

Our favourite Flowergardengirl, Anna, has been holding an interesting conversation over at her blog about small nurseries and bigbox stores, and how customers behave. One of my personal irks is how some people go to a nursery where the staff know what they're doing, pick their brains for information, and then go off to a bigbox store to get plants that are cheaper. This drives me crazy and is the height of rudeness, but we do know that there are many rude and inconsiderate (and cheap) people in the world, don't we?

Now, in some areas, there ARE no good small, locally owned or independent nurseries, in which case the only option is to go to a large store that carries gardening supplies. Yarmouth is sort of like that. To the best of my knowledge, there's no nursery right in the Yarmouth area now; travelling up the south shore there's Ouestville Perennials in West Pubnico, and Lavender Hill, and Spencer's, and Cosby's. To the west, heading back my way, there's Bunchberry Nurseries, and Woodland Farm Nursery in Upper Clements, then Garden of Eatin' Farm in Paradise, and then a deluge more. But all of these are an hour or more from Yarmouth. Several of the big department type stores have very well-stocked garden centres—Canadian Tire and Kent are two that spring to mind—and their managers have been good about bringing in interesting plants and taking care of them. In my snooping about, I've found perennials at both places that I've not located elsewhere, so of course I had to drag them home with me.


For a lot of us, though, we have some really fine choices, especially here in the Annapolis Valley. Although my blog readership is located all over the world, I do know that many readers are from Nova Scotia, and appreciate knowing where nurseries are. And some of them are getting on the ball and developing websites, which makes it really helpful for web-savvy gardeners who can look at plant lists all winter long, planning for the day when spring warmth entices them out to do more than just look. Some nurseries are supposedly updating their websites, and some have so many broken links that I don't want to include them here. Several lf the nurseries I recommend don't have websites, but that doesn't matter, because they're just so great everyone ought to go there (if you live in or near NS, of course! A bit of a commute from Rhode Island or California or North Carolina, I know...)

Here are some of my favourite nurseries in Nova Scotia. (This is gonna be a multipart discussion, so only a few to start with.

Baldwin Nurseries, Falmouth. I've written about Rob Baldwin before—he's a friend, after all, but that aside, I like what he does and how he does it. He grows a LOT of trees and shrubs, including many natives, plus is getting into perennials more and more, especially those that are good for butterflies and other pollinators. He's going to be at the Saltscapes Expo again this year, (coming up in less than two weeks, panic!)

Bayport Plant Farm, Bayport, near Lunenburg. Of all the plant people I know and respect--okay, worship and adore--Captain Dick Steele is my absolute favourite hort hero. Dick is the spryest, most bright and enthusiastic 92 year old man I know--a man who can propagate plants all day long seven days a week, and barrel his car across the Labrador Highway on his annual plant treks, and charge past everyone else climbing the hills at Battle Harbour, Labrador.

Briar Patch Farm & Nursery, Berwick. It's no secret that I like people who genuinely like plants, and Lee and John Dickie genuinely like plants. It shows at their nursery and farm, which includes marvelous display plantings, intriguing plant choices, and knowledgeable staff. I've found some real treasure there over the past few years, and this year I think it might be time to try the Japanese Umbrella Pine. We'll see how tempted I am when I visit for the first time and see that little plant's glowing yellow foliage. You know what will happen. So do I.

Bunchberry Nurseries, Upper Clements. Jill Covill and I went to NSAC at the same time, but it was many years before our paths crossed again. Jill specializes in heaths, heathers, native plants, evergreen shrubs, and grasses, and if you live in NS, you simply MUST visit the garden centre in early August during the peak of heather bloom. I'm giving a talk down at Jill's next Saturday during her annual opening Spring Fling, and how many plants do you suppose I'll bring home with me THIS time? I always say because of Jill I developed an obsession over heathers and heaths, and now that I know I can grow them….well, you know the rest.

Canning Daylily Gardens, Canning. I’ve known Wayne and Wayne for a long time, and value their friendship as well as their knowledge and enthusiasm when it comes to daylilies. If you live in Nova Scotia and are a daylily lover, you simply have to come visit the gardens during late July-early August, when peak bloom is happening. The Waynes have some really unusual and new daylily cultivars (some of which aren’t ready to be sold commercially yet) and over 300 cultivars for sale; something like 800 different types in the display garden makes for a rainbow of colour.

Ouestville Perennials, West Pubnico Alice d’Entremont’s nursery is the furthest away from my house in terms of travel time, located in the beautiful community of West Pubnico, so I don’t get to visit her nearly as often as I want. But when I do, I spend a few hours, because Alice is a wise, knowledgeable plant enthusiast and her display garden and nursery make me intensely happy to visit. Usually Mick and/or Angie, the two guard cats, escort us as we meander around. And I invariably leave with the car full of plants that I simply had to have. You’ll find many interesting and hard-to-find plants at Ouestville, so it’s a collector’s delight, but there’s something for every gardener. Trust me on this….

Stay tuned for further posts on local nurseries!

The good news and the not so good news

Day five of springlike weather here--I'm not even sure if it got down to freezing last night or not. Sunny with some clouds is a good thing.

The bad news...Dexter attacked Mungus last night, and when I went to separate them, he bit me. Hard. As in four punctures and a bruised muscle in my hand. So he's not able to stay here. Happily, my vet who operates the no-kill shelter is taking him. He'll be quarantined for a week or so and then the staff and volunteers who work there will work with him, and determine whether he can be adopted only as a one-child cat-family, or if he can go to a home with more than one. He will NOT be euthanized, which is why I support this particular veternarian and shelter so wholeheartedly. I have even told them I'll pay for his vaccinations and neutering, or at least make a donation of that amount to pay for food etc at the shelter.

We can't know what he's been through elsewhere in his young life. Someone may have abused him, or he may just have had an upset, although everything had been quiet all day yesterday until this incident last night. We're both very sad, but on the other hand we know we can bring kittens into the household and integrate them with no trouble, so maybe we'll adopt a couple of babies a little later. And I'll go in to visit him until he's placed in his 'forever home.'

The funny thing about this is that I was remarking earlier in the week that cats are much more predictable and trustworthy than humans, having had some sort of weird upset with a person I had considered a friend. But just as people can be unstable, animals can be too. The only other time in my life I've ever been bitten by a cat--seriously bitten--was with a very strange cat of my father's, who went postal on us years ago--that one had some real health problems, it turned out, and we finally got him captured and kennelled and to the vet for his final destination.

So Dexter will be fine...just not with us. Meanwhile, it's a good thing I'm on multiple antibiotics anyway. And had a tetanus shot recently. I think my garden needs me this afternoon. The rest of the catchildren know I'm upset, because they're following me around being helpful and comforting. Like real friends do.

What a difference a day makes

When I decided it was time to take a break from work and go out for a walk around the yard yesterday afternoon, Tigger came bounding gleefully across the yard burbling excitedly. Perhaps he thought that we'd go inspect the catmint again like we did on Tuesday, or maybe he was just glad to get back into his role as chief gardening assistant, feline division. Tigger's a senior feline, twelve years old now, but warm sunny days make him very blissful. Catnip, or catmint as a last resort, makes him even more blissful, but we're still a few weeks from any significant amount.

We've now had 4, count them, FOUR days of mild, fine weather. The glacier is now completely vanquished from the yard and garden, although there's still a bit of dirty residual snow in the ditches and along the pasture edge. On Tuesday afternoon, I photographed these dear little crocus, barely out of the ground and showing off their colours...

They must have been the advance scouting party, because today they were joined by quite a few more, all basking in the sun's gentle smile. I even saw a bee--I think it was a honeybee, though it might have been a bee-mimic fly; I couldn't get close enough to get a photo.


A few feet away, another host of crocus stretched forth to sing their song of joy to spring.


Having pulled the mulch away from pretty well everything that I did protect, I'm amazed at how far along some things are. This euphorbia is a polychroma cultivar, the variegated 'Lacey'. I guess there are no worries about its hardiness here in my garden.


Little colonies of snowdrops are now emerging to warm my heart too. I know, I know...some of you had snowdrops MONTHS ago. But we didn't. And I simply love these perfect little plants, so fresh and clean looking. It took them a few years, but now that they've well established, they're starting to multiply in earnest.


We have single snowdrops too, as I showed in the last post. I can never decide which I like better. Each has its own particular charms, of course. The thing about the doubles is that you really do have to flip their little heads up to admire their petticoats of petals, where the singles just stand tall and elegant like little white tuxedos.


I've decided that Sedum 'Angelina' is definitely a star in all seasons. Aren't the colours in it almost undescribably lovely? They remind me of the heaths and heathers that turn such flamboyant colours. Beside 'Angelina' is another sedum, a variegated species the name of which escapes me right now, but both are quite happy. And as with the rock garden at NSAC, these little bursts of iridescence cause me to slow down and enjoy each little gift, before the song of spring becomes more of a full orchestration.

One last happy observation; the ice is gone from the pond, which means we should be hearing the green frogs in a few days, if the warm trend continues. And that will be just fine with me.

I know there are messy days yet to come, but we'll take each day that comes like this as a real gift.

Spring's Shy Entrance

Wouldn't you know it? Here I am, buried in work and fighting off this durned ol' infection, and spring has decided to not only find us, but to hang around for a few days. This is the third sunny and mild day in a row, and you can hear the land and its life yawning, stretching and looking around. "Well! That sun sure feels warm, and the wind isn't blasting in...Maybe it IS time to get going with the season!" I haven't been outside yet today, but my LSS gleefully told me earlier this morning that I'd have to go outside just to walk around when it gets warmer.


When I was at NSAC on Saturday, I took a stroll down to The Rock Garden, which in my mind is the most wonderful public garden in Nova Scotia. Even on a dreary, cold day, with no sunlight in sight and a chill mist dripping on me, it was still wonderful to amble through the paths, pausing to look down at alpines clinging to stone, managing despite the day's dreariness to show bursts of colour.


This Hamamelis 'Jelena' isn't fully open yet, so it's hard to see the subtleties of colour in its wonderful flowers. But the vibrant fragrance was there, and that was enough to cause me to smile.
Spring's unfolding is a little like the Rock Garden's plants: a bit subtle at first glance. You need to take your time in an alpine garden, because many of the plants are small, short, evolved that way after millions of years of hanging on to whispers of soil in clefts of rocks on cliffs and mountains. Yet pause and study a sempervivum's complexities, or the delicate gradations of colour in leaves, or the stunning beauty of a mass of saxifrage blooms, and you catch the joy of these plants.


This saxifrage caught my eye from across the garden. Because (as with so many public gardens, as many of us have ranted before) so many people help themselves to plant labels (and plants!), there are few labels in the garden, so I can't tell you what species or cv this might be. All I know is that the saxifrages in MY garden don't turn this colour, so this is a WANT plant. Bernard Jackson will know--he's the man who designed and built this garden, and also was the first botanist and gardener at the MUN Botanical Gardens in St. John's, Nfld. We've very lucky to have him in Nova Scotia--he's a lovely man, very wise and generous and gracious too. This year I will get to his own garden--he's invited me in the past and last year just didn't work for us.


If spring unfurled all at once in a blast of colour and fragrance and sound, maybe I wouldn't cherish each plant's awakening as much as I do. There were certainly outbursts of colour at the AC, such as in the heath gardens behind the Hort building, but even without flowers, heaths and heathers are some of my favourite plants because of the glory of their winter display.

More to come, when I take my camera for a walk around the yard. I know we're not out of the weather-woods yet. But isn't it funny how a few mild, sunny days erase the scars of winter from our souls so quickly?

The Lost has been Found!

With apologies to Lewis Carroll, Oh frabjuos day! Callooh, callay, she chortled in her joy. After all that waiting, and fretting, and longing (and even threats to post a Lost and Found ad on Craigslist)...spring has decided that yes, she DOES remember where Scotts Bay is. This afternoon, the temperature got up to 62 degrees F here at our place (especially out of the wind). The glacier is melting with great enthusiasm, and suddenly, as LSS told me yesterday, there are sprouts of green growing things everywhere.

Despite not feeling real well, as I try to dodge another bout of diverticulitis, I did go outside and work for two whole hours, cutting down dead stocks of perennials, raking gravel off beds (where LSS dumped it when plowing the massive drifts of snow we did have over the winter), trimming a few shrubs, and even pulling some perennial weeds (ground ivy, willow herb, couchgrass and chickweeds). And I WAS amazed at how, despite the snow and wind and cold and snow and--well, you know what we've endured this winter--the perennials are poking up through quite nicely. Shoots of new growth included

Euphorbia griffithii 'Fireglow' (looks like orange asparagus shoots)
Euphorbia cyparissias (both regular species and 'Fens Ruby')
Eryngium planum (flat sea holly)
assorted rudbeckias
assorted Papaver orientalis (Patty's Plum, among others!)
Gernanium macrorrhizum (pink and white)
Various sedums

There was probably a lot more, but I didn't explore too closely. In keeping with my determination not to get overwhelmed with all the tasks that need doing, I am sticking to the mantra of 'One Bed at a Time' as I clean up and study what needs moving, dividing, and so on. Please remind me of that when I DO invariably get overwhelmed, okay?


I know I left some of you hanging when I hinted at new plant purchase yesterday while in Truro. So without further ado....look what happened! It SPOKE to me, pleading to be brought home and rescued from the cold unfeeling staff at the big store, and the customers who don't know the difference between live and plastic plants. So what could I do?


This phalaenopsis was unlabeled as to cultivar, but it's green or greenish yellow, depending on how the light hits it. It'll keep my other two company just fine, I'm sure.


In other news, thanks for your good wishes and support of our decision to keep Rescue Kitty. He's gaining weight and isn't dehydrated now, he's using the litterbox though he has to remember about covering things, and while he's still in seclusion, I hope sometime this week to let him out more into the rest of the house. He's still very thin and quite weak so I don't want him to argue with one of the other catchildren and get hurt. He's a funny boy, very loving but also talks and mutters a lot, and his little feet seem to hurt him. He probably traveled a long way before finding our barn; his pads do look worn but his nails, though short, aren't worn off. I'm slowly working at getting the tangles from his coat, and he IS definitely a handsome boy. And I think his name is Dexter, but I'll let you know when he tells me for sure.

The Master Gardener from Sweden

Peter Korn can’t get too much sleep during the gardening months. He puts in fifteen hour days on a regular basis at his garden in Eskilsby, Sweden, about 30 km east of Goteborg. But then, he has a LOT of garden to work in--and is increasing the plantings every year.

Peter has been on tour in North America under sponsorship by the North American Rock Garden Society (NARGS). Because the Nova Scotia Rock Garden club is an affiliate of NARGS, the club could get Peter’s visit to our fair province covered by NARGS sponsorship. A few days ago he spoke to the Atlantic Rhododendron & Horticultural Society in Halifax, where he was also a great hit.

For about 90 minutes this youthful, exhuberant gardening enthusiast showed us slides of his garden, which is only a few years old. His first garden, which he built over a few years at another house, no longer exists, bulldozed by the buyer of that house. But Peter is a philosophical type of gardener, who simply took all his plants (before they were bulldozed) and moved to the home of his new wife. On five acres (2 hectares) of what was “a green wall” of spruce forest, Peter has created a stunning vista of scree, desert, ‘cliffs’, and filled his property with thousands of plants, including many, many alpines from all over the world.

Peter propagates his own plants from seed and cuttings, (several thousand different SPECIES each year) and he’s certainly a patient gardener. He has had seeds that have taken years to germinate; I guess those of us who get impatient when something hasn’t germinated after a few weeks have a lot to learn about just relaxing and letting nature take her course.

His brother is a cyclist and botanist who travels all over the world on his bicycle, and collects seeds which he sends back to Peter. Stellan (I think that's his brother's name--his website is in Swedish, not a language I know any words in) travels with a GPS so when he collects seeds for Peter, he takes a reading so that Peter will know EXACTLY where the plant was growing.

I’ve never seen such a diverse collection of plants; many of the genera are familiar, but species I’d never heard of. The most intriguing thing we learned today is how Peter grows many of these plants in pure, coarse, sand. He piles heaps of coarse sand on top of grassy areas (not removing the sod) and then plants his alpines directly into this (shaking the soil from their pots off before he plants them). He then covers the sand with scree, or gravel, which helps to keep the sand in place. He waters once, and then, that’s it—the plants are on their own. There’s minimal weeding to do because the sand isn’t a desireable germinating medium for many non-alpine plants, and the alpines are provided that perfect drainage that they crave.

Some of his plants don’t live. Peter is philosophical about this; he’ll try again with some, or simply plant something else. That’s a good healthy philosophy to have!


As part of his presentation, Peter brought a small container of the sand he uses in his gardens. Running my fingers through it, I wondered if this is as close as I’ll ever get to Sweden. I hope not. Now that I’ve met Peter and seen his talk (these photos are from his website, with his permission), I need to add another garden to the gardens of the world I’d really LOVE to see.

It wasn’t Austin, to be sure. But it was an enjoyable, illuminating day. And I shan't tell you what followed me home from a department store I went into for cat food. Not another cat, to be sure. Something a little more stationary.

Photos, from top: Meconopsis rudis; Penstemon pulchellum; Calceolaria uniflora; Fritillaria pudica.

Listening, Looking, and Longing for Spring

Oh, tulips...I remember what tulips look like...when we used to have spring...
Permit me a little blogger-envy, gentle readers. I would have loved to join the bloggers spring fling this weekend in Austin TX, hosted by the amazing Austin gardeners; Zanthan Gardens' M. Sinclair Stevens; Bonnie at Kiss of Sun, Diana of Sharing Nature’s Garden; Digging’s Pam Penick, and many other talents. The closest I’ll get to Texas any time soon was today, when I spoke to a veternarian in Weatherford for a story I’m doing about a horse…

However, this weekend I am going to Truro, to my alma mater, the Nova Scotia Agricultural College, to hear Swedish garden designer Peter Korn give a presentation on Rock Garden My Way.

Mind you, the AC Rock Garden won't be looking quite like it does in summer, and Truro isn’t Austin, but I’ll be among the company of other plant addicts, and that’s always worth a lot. On my way to Truro and while I’m there, I’ll be looking for signs of spring while probably dodging snowflurries and other meteorological insults.

Speaking of spring…it’s no wonder I’m getting antsy, because I’ve had a look back at notes and articles and journal entries for previous springs, and things ARE very slow. Normally by this time of year, we’ve heard the banjo-tuning songs of the green frogs in our pond. This year, the pond is still frozen. While the early spring birds are here, they look less than happy, trying to navigate across the grass in galeforce winds, poking at frozen ground in hopes of finding a tasty worm or other dinner entrée. Any frogs are still buried in mud; we don’t have spring peepers so much as we have peepsicles. The only sounds I’ve heard the past couple of days have been galeforce winds; so bad this afternoon that one of the Halifax bridges was closed to high-sided vehicles, while the waters of Scotts Bay were roiled, angry and decidedly turbulent.

Nothing like spring about any of this. While the snow has mostly melted from much of the area, we still have vestigial glaciers in parts of our back yard, and frozen mud in the pasture which really annoys the horse. So I’m not the only irritable one. But my irritation is tinged with worry. Where the heck has spring gone? Should we run an advert in the personals? Or on Craigslist?

“Missing since 21 June, 2007: SPRING in Nova Scotia. Description: Fair skies, gentle breezes, plants popping into bloom, warm temperatures and happy gardeners. Suspected caught in the hot air out of Parliament Hill in Ottawa, and blown to the south. Would the finder please redirect this gentle season to get its butt down to Atlantic Canada (and other parts of Canada and the northern US) before a shortage of dark chocolate and orchids causes a recession.”

Well…though I can't be with them, I really do hope all the Spring Flingers have a terrific time in Austin and send some spring warmth back this way. Or else I’ll need to succumb to more orchids. For now I’ll cuddle Mr. Rescue Kitty and wait for him to tell us his name.

The Rescue Story continues--(was NOT an April Fool Story)

Happy News! My veterinarian tested our rescue kitty for both FLV and FIV (Leukemia and feline Aids) and he was negative on both counts. So I've brought him home to feed him up and work on getting his coat unmatted, and we expect to be able to get him vaccinated and neutered within a few weeks, as soon as he's strong enough to stand the anaesthetic and innoculations. He's about a year old and will probably be a big handsome kitty when he's fed up--he's part Maine Coon, apparently, and he's definitely a sweetie. The rest of the catchildren are still pouting, but they'll handle it. Thank you to all of you for your good thoughts and support. We don't know his name yet but I expect he'll let us know in the next week or so. We'll keep you posted on his improvements.

Yesterday afternoon my Longsuffering Spouse burst into the house, calling for me to come and get my boots on and come out to the barn. I thought that Leggo had gotten into trouble, or Jenny had tried to teleport to Mars, or something equally upsetting. But no. Look what we found in a little nest of hay under the ladder to the haymow.

I'm always suspicious of cats outside, because they're usually wild as hawks. But when we spoke to this little fellow, he spoke back and came right out from underneath the ladder. LSS picked him up.

"oh good god almighty honey....he's starving. He's nothing but bones! Get him something to eat!" His voice trembled in rage and grief.

My LSS is a retired lobster fisherman, as I've said before. He can pick up a 250 pound lobster trap (they have to ballast them up here because of the tide) and toss it like a stone. He manhandles huge chunks of logs onto the woodsplitter, and while he's a bit heavy, he has muscles in places a lot of us don't even have places. I call him my chunk of North Mountain granite--solid, strong, steadfast.

He's also a complete mushball, where cats are concerned. We went through this a few years ago, when he came home with a little cat who looked amazingly like this one, only a grey tabby rather than brown. She was starving at a house down in the Bay, a castoff from somewhere, and the homeowner wouldn't feed her. So LSS bundled her in the truck, brought her home, handed her to me and said, tears in his eyes and voice choked up, "I couldn't leave her there to starve, darling..." Well, of course not!

Currently, the stranger is in seclusion in the kitty isolation ward. He's eaten and drunk, let me brush him and determine that he IS a male--a complete one, but very immature--and let me tangle some of the burdocks and hay and hairballs out of his fluffy coat. His tail is enormous in size, fluffy as all get out, and it and his head are the biggest things on him. The rest of him is just bones, hair...

...and purr. And talk! He's another talker. I just spent an hour with him snuggling him down. In the morning, I'll take him to our vet to be tested for feline leukemia and if he's negative, we'll get his boosters and set a date for neutering, and he'll be integrated into the family. If he's positive...but I'm hopeful that he's negative. I think he's young enough that he could still be carrying immunity from his mother. Other than being desperately thin, he appears healthy; strong gums and teeth, bright eyes, no discharges, no sign of fleas.

But what set me into rage was when he went to the litter box, and did his business. Not to be gross, but what he put in the box was full of...bird seed. Not bird feathers, bones, or anything like that. Bird SEED. He must have been eating what was on the ground outside under the main feeder. And he's so friendly...he isn't a kitten that's always been wild. He was someone's pet, til someone got tired of him.

Meanwhile, the rest of the catchildren are doing the eggshell walk, tiptoeing up to the door to look into the ward at the stranger, and a couple of them have made noises that sound like a cross between a vacuum cleaner and a fire siren. Spunky came in here, jumped up on the desk and lay down on my bluetooth keyboard, frowning at me, while others have been racing around the house acting like they'd seen ghosts. But they'll get over it. And hopefully in a day or two they'll all be racing around the house together.

Somebody tell me there IS kitty karma out there, and that the person who jettisoned this little fellow will face retribution. There MUST be kitty karma...the little guy did know where to go.

So it might not be a kitten. But like my buddy and enabler Kylee...and Yolanda...and any other who wouldn't turn away a starving creature...what else could I do?

Une Poisson d'Avril for Garden Bloggers Muse Day

We all know how TS Eliot begins his monumental poem The Waste Land; even those who don’t know the poem (or understand it, and don’t worry if you don’t!) know these oft quoted words:

April is the cruelest month, breeding
lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
memory and desire, stirring
dull roots with spring rain.

Given that we’ve all had a long, tiresome winter (some of us longer and more tiresome than others) but that we’ve finally made it out of Farch, I thought about rewriting Eliot’s poem. However, it is 434 lines long, an astonishing miasma of satire, allusions, prophesy, wistfulness and dread.

While words do come easily to me, especially when galloping on about plants or cats or books or gardens, I don’t feel quite up to that monumental a task.

So instead, submitted for your consideration, gentle readers, my offering for Garden Bloggers Muse Day, and also the day of Poisson d’Avril:

April is the foolish month, breeding
cattle out of great pumpkins, mixing
skunk cabbages and Indian artifacts, stirring
Daffogerbera roots with endless rain.

Happy Muse Day, all...if you want me, I'll be bottling up the latest precipitation and getting ready to sell it as blue poppy fertilizer.

Bouquets of Heartfelt thanks and Lambish Weather

Listen... Can you hear that?

Exactly so. There's little or no wind. What a concept!

We're having an actual spring-like day today for the last day of Farch, so I'm hoping that this seemingly endless period will go out like a new spring lamb. The snow is gently melting, evaporating rather than just running off everywhere, as the temperature isn't that warm, but the milky sunlight and patchwork sky is promising something else for precipitation in the coming hours. I know that one brief respite does not spring make, and that we're apt to have a session of Farchpril before Nature throws up her hands and lets us have real spring. But I'll take each softer day as a real gift. Just as I take the privilege of reading other blogs, and having you read mine, as a real gift.

It's always hard to know how many people come back to read comments after they've commented, and some posts generate a lot of comments, which as others have observed, can take time to reply to. Because I'm pressed for time right now with assorted deadlines and plenty of research to do, I decided to make a brief post taking off my gardening hat to everyone who visits here, to all whose blogs I cherish and read, to friends across the miles, most of whom I may not ever get to meet.

To answer questions asked in comments: the handsome kitty in the previous post is owned by very nice people who have a large workshop where my longsuffering spouse is working on rebuilding his Cape Islander boat. Tigger Ells is a rescue cat who is neutered, needled and much loved, and he LOVES to hang out in the workshop 'helping' hubby. So though he's gorgeous and adorable, he has a great home...but I have a feeling that one of these days I'm going to go into our no-kill shelter and have a look. The last time I did that, I came home with Mungus...

How lucky we are--blessed, some would say--to be able to play in this great medium of the Internet, to celebrate and rant and teach and learn and just be. At least, that's my feeling. My son and I were talking a week or two back about how we are actually net-veterans, having gotten online first with Bulletin Board systems, then with the early days of the Worldwide Web, back in 93 and 94. We never would have dreamed of blogs, or iPods, or lightning fast computers--my first colour computer, bought in 1994, had a 25 mhz chip in it and 4 MG of RAM, which was pretty speedy at the time.

I've said before that I'm a glass half-full kind of person, and firmly believe in encouraging and helping others. I'm deeply touched by the caring I see, both in comments posted here and on the dozens (possibly hundreds--I don't dare count, now!) of other blogs I read on a regular basis. I take great delight in the varied textures and personalities of the blogs and bloggers; like snowflakes, no two are alike, but each one is perfect in its unique tone and texture. Each one enriches me, whether the writer is talking about something blooming in the garden, trying out a hobby, tempting me to try a new recipe, or having a good chortle or rant over something that's tickled them.


I've shown this photo before, but today, I offer it as a bouquet of appreciation to each of you; the rainbow for hope and peace, and the 1st place ribbon beside it, (no, this isn't my arrangement, I'm hopeless at such things!) to show you that you're all stars in my heart. Thank you to each of you for what you do, and for the sharing and caring you give to others, most of whom are perfect strangers--myself included--across the miles.

Namaste, friends.

It's Kylee's fault...she said I could!

It's been one of those weeks around here at Sunflower Hill, as the weather tries to play coy with us. And I confess to some decidedly moody moments this week, ranging from angry to discouraged to just plain sad.

Angry because of a new 'gardening blog' that basically wants to take advantage of others' work with no benefit to the participants who join the 'team'. I'm not going to post the link because they'll get no free promotion from me.

Discouraged because winter seems never ending. We got another six inches of snow yesterday, as did some of you in the US and points further west in Canada--talk about being weather-bludgeoned.

And sad because today should have been my parents' 50th anniversary. Would have been, had my father not been taken from us nearly three years ago by Alzheimers Disease.

Normally I'm a glass half-full kind of girl, rather than glass half-empty...but these things have been bothering me. So when the going gets tough, what does the tough do?

Go looking at plants, of course. In this case, the orchids I've been thinking about for the past week or so, ever since I saw a nice collection of phalaenopsis in a farm market/nursery just after St. Patrick's Day. Just walking in the greenhouse, listening to the fountain splashing and the birds chirping and smellng hyacinths and daffs and soaking in the smell of green, growing plants is enough to raise my spirits.

Just why is this Kylee's fault?


Weeeeellllllll....she did a delightful post just yesterday about how we all know that she loves cats and plants. And she was faced with temptation: to choose a pretty cat that has been hanging around her place, or a pretty new orchid she's been thinking about getting. She asked which we thought she had chosen, and many of us, knowing and loving our friend as we do, said, "Both of them, of course!"

And I confessed to having had visions of a new phalaenopsis in my house. And she said

Go ahead, Jodi. You know you want to, and I'm giving you permission. :-)

So I did.

It was hard making a decision for just one; several of the unusual ones had me REALLY tempted, but the greenhouse at this market isn't really designed to be holding plants this early in temperatures this cool. While there is heat in there, some plants are showing signs of distress, and are getting overwatered, over fed, etc to try to snap them out of it. Which we know won't work, so it really was my duty to rescue this beauty, wasn't it?

Now, I realize that in Kylee's case, she opted for both choices, and she did give me permission to do so too. But I avoided our kitty shelter today, just to be on the safe side. When I went down to the barn where my longsuffering spouse is working on his boat, I met this handsome, charming fellow, who LSS has been telling me about for weeks. And it was all I could do not to pick him up and bring him home. Newly neutered, sweet tempered, purrs as soon as you touch him, wants to be held all the time, and a 'talker' too.

I think his parents would object; and I know our catchildren would. So I resisted temptation, halfway, anyway.

This must qualify me for that second orchid, right?