Say “Ah”

I’ve added something new to my garden-a dahlia. I once tried unsuccessfully to grow one from a tuber; maybe this time with that part done for me I can grow these beautiful flowers. My childhood ten-cent garden catalogs would proclaim, “Dahlias—flowers as big as dinner plates!” or a picture of a child standing near a dahlia plant was captioned, “Flowers as large as a child’s head!” Wow! Though labeled as large, my dahlias aren’t anywhere near as big, only three and one half inches in diameter. One of the keys to size, it seems, (besides the particular variety) is to clip the side buds before they open, leaving the main one of the set of three. The second one is opening. I can’t nip it in the bud; not yet--not this time. Most people I’ve encountered pronounce this lovely as, “dalya” as in dally (including myself) but one of my flower shop employers made a point, “Well of course it’s pronounced, ‘dah-lia’; just think of Arlene Dahl.” (U.S. Actress of 1940’s and ‘50s)

Just the Thing

When I was a child I thrilled at ads for garden catalogs in the back of my mother’s magazines . I’d carefully tape my nickel or dime to an index card inscribed with my name and address, seal it in an envelope then with anticipation send it on its way to the wonderfully colorful nursery! Day after day the mailbox called to me until finally the catalog arrived! One of the glorious flowers that always caught my attention as I pored over the exciting pages was the clematis. They didn’t grow in our hot climate so I had never seen one in person and didn’t even know how to pronounce the name—until I moved east and often saw them vining on mailboxes—just like in the catalogs.

Color on the Rise

The Bradford Pear outside our window seems eager to open its buds! I wish I had taken my camera on our weekend excursions! The flowering crabs are in their full soft red violet array. Entire streets are now lined with the young trees!

We even saw forsythia blooming! My husband says, “Now I know it’s spring when the forsythia blooms.” My grandmother used to talk about the lovely bushes with their four point yellow star-shaped flowers but I never saw one outside of garden catalog photos until we moved east. They’re now some of my favorites. Maybe I should have bought the cheery bouquet of yellow-flowering branches; they would have surely brightened this chilly gray day.

Trying Again

I checked one of my favorite garden books, Crockett’s Indoor Garden, to see if there was something I could do better in getting my avocado to branch; last time I cut it, it continued reaching for the ceiling--with only one branch. Alas, Mr. Crockett only said that that’s the way things are with avocadoes—they don’t want to branch and don’t make very good houseplants.

I’m not giving up that easily; I like my avocado plants. Somewhere along the way I’ve seen a huge, bushy avocado growing in a home, so I’m going to keep pruning--not that I’m looking for huge. Sooner or later it just might decide to branch out. Today is the day, as you can see in these “before and after” the haircut shots.

True Purpose

It feels so good outdoors today, I didn’t want to come back in. I made the most of the occasion by sweeping up the balcony a bit—any excuse to be out there will do since I’m getting cabin fever with all the Christmas preparations; this is always an exacting task since the “floorboards” have space between and I don’t want to send any potting soil below. The pineapple sage and leftover basil stalks are still fragrant as I brush against them.

Inspired by Gayla Trail’s Grow Great Grub Organic Food from Small Spaces, in which she insists that “grub” (food) can be grown in the smallest of spaces—even a windowsill, I eyed my set of flower-decorated garden pots. I’ve lovingly carried these pots around since I was given them as a parting gift by my co-workers at my first “real” job; I was moving on to greater things. The pots however, have become a place to collect odd things that need recycling but I don’t know where to put them back into the cycle (light bulbs?).


I read a lot about “re-purposing” these days and I enjoy giving things additional purposes (often to keep them out of the landfill) but there’s nothing like getting back to an object’s (or a person’s!) original and true purpose. So I read the list of food plants that will grow in a “slightly shady” window, matching it with my supply of lettuce (two kinds), parsley and chives seeds. I emptied the pots, washed them thoroughly and added a thin layer of gravel for drainage, added soil then seeds, watered them and set them on the window sill. I’ll have to remember to water and drain them in the sink since the hole plugs are long gone and the holder doesn’t allow for saucers (I could put the whole thing in a saucer but it wouldn’t look as good). The “rooster plant” that reigns in this window has to move over; I’ll have to move them all out of the window at night to make way for the blinds. The seeds take about two weeks to sprout; I’ll keep you posted.

The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. Colossians 1:15,16 NIV

The Beanstalk Has Blossomed

The lovely hyacinth bean vine is presenting her beautiful purple flowers (I use purple in a general sense to cover all versions of the color). I’ll have to sit on my hands to keep from “deadheading” these flowers (cutting off spent flowers to keep a plant blooming). I’ll have to remind myself that beautiful glossy purple bean pods and eventually artistic black and white seeds follow these flowers.

In one of my earliest gardening attempts, my parents let me plant English pea seeds in their front planter box. They came up nicely and bloomed. I had read about deadheading in my garden books—my first book club books were gardening books, so I dutifully deadheaded my pea flowers against my parents’ warnings. I unfortunately didn’t make the distinction between decorative flowers and flowers that “produce fruit”. I never did get any peas on that round. (I think there’s a parable in there somewhere. When I find it, I’ll let you know—or if you find it, you can let me know.)

A ladybug has made her way to my garden. May her tribe increase. The hummingbird darted in this morning for a visit while I was sitting in the garden. He or she briefly investigated the hyacinth vine flowers, flitted over the rest and darted away. The garden likes the cooler weather; yesterday the temperature only reached 73 degrees. As a result, more plants are blossoming, the four o’clocks were still blooming at 9 o’clock am and crickets are singing.