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)

Oh Deer!

My miniature pomegranate is settling in and blooming well--but only on the less sunny side though its tag says that it needs full sun. The tag also says that it’s “deer resistant”. That’s a good thing I’m sure, but if a deer ever leaps up here to my second floor balcony, though technically it’s probably possible, it will be a strange day and I’ll be leaping somewhere else! Fortunately we don’t even have squirrels near us. The last place we lived was overrun with them; they ate my plants down to the nubs. They seemed to especially like purple flowers—my specialty. Though I tried really hard to think of them as cute, I couldn’t any longer. I prayed to be able to appreciate this creation of God’s. And I prayed some more. At last, I focused on their amazing acrobatic ability and praised God for his wonderful creation. But I was reminded of the time, in the movie Fiddler on the Roof, when the village rabbi was asked if there was a blessing for the Russian Tsar. The rabbi responded, “May the Lord bless and keep the Tsar…far away from us!” Ditto the squirrels. However, I’m the one who had to move.

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.

Eureka!

I finally found a place that has miniature pomegranate bushes! These have the intense orange flowers and even the fruit of the larger tree (I’m told that the fruit is essentially inedible, that it’s very sour)—except that all the parts are sized to fit my small balcony garden! Pomegranates often turn up in my art, so it’s natural that I would grow them.

Better yet is the “discovery” of the wonderful garden center that had the miniature pomegranate. To my sorrow, though it’s been there twenty-five years I have never before heard of it--but now I know. The large open areas surrounded by trees reminded me of my grandparents’ backyard. I was so blessed to find an interesting variety of healthy plants, helpful staff and a gift shop that looks like (at hurried glance since they were closing) it yields many treasures that I was almost overwhelmed—in a good way. The ground up grey surface underfoot even felt good to walk on. I’ll be back! http://kingsgreenhouse.com/retail

*Eureka means “I found it!”

The More You Pick

My grandmother’s garden was full of flowers but our childish eagerness to pick flowers was curbed by strict instructions, “Don’t pick the flowers,” except the pansies. Pansies were different since, “the more you pick them, the more you have,”(This is true of many annuals and biennials, sort of like pre-deadheading; it stops the plant’s process of seed production).

So now that my pansies have begun blooming again, I’m taking my grandmother’s advice and making more pansies. I’ve put the cut ones in her green glass vase along with a sprig of peppermint—a frost survivor.



The sun eventually broke through the thick morning fog. Welcome sun.

Beyond Corsages

I was having such a good time in my art studio this morning that I didn’t want to leave so I’m running a bit late in posting today.

When I was a child I thought that the orchid corsages that all the ladies loved to wear for Mother’s Day and weddings were ugly. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would like yellow green or brownish pink flowers. Now that I’ve gotten to know some of the vast orchid family (the largest genus of flowers on earth), I’m smitten by them. From the yellow green and, brownish pink cymbidiums to the floaty white and fuchsia phalaenopsis or moth orchid, I can’t get enough. I love to paint them—especially the wildly colorful ruffled cattleyas in orange, magenta, red, photographing them at a local university greenhouse.

I attempt growing phalaenopsis—with hope, and I do well with growing their leaves once the flowers are spent. Alas, it’s orchid bloom season but my phalaenopsis isn’t blooming though it did make a new plant. I’m afraid to separate the two but maybe one day I will; I keep hoping the new one will bloom though if it did the flower stalk would come out upside-down. Maybe I can find some fertilizer* that’s not too chemically.

*My botany professor also insisted that, “fertilizer is not plant food—it’s fertilizer!”

100th Post!

I began this blog last July as a fun summer project to share my balcony garden with you. One hundred posts later (didn’t know I could!), it’s become much more. It has helped discipline me in my writing and I’ve taken hundred’s of photos of many aspects of my garden. I’ve been happily stretched.

One friend is amazed that I can have such diversity in such a small garden. Plants change as they grow—that’s part of what I like about gardening. Several—even non-gardeners, have said that they find refreshment and stress-relief as they read my posts each day. I’m pleased. That's why I share my garden.

As I’ve shared my successes and not-so-successful gardening experiments with you, people from many parts of the world have looked in. Gardening is, for the most part, universal. Like it or not, small gardens will likely become the norm as cities and populations throughout the world grow out—and up. One doesn’t have to own acreage to grow a beautiful garden.


I’ve been amazed at the variety of natural kingdom visitors making their way to my “tree house” garden, some enjoyable like this tiny frog, and others such as the leaf-chomping giant grasshoppers, dreaded.

While I’ve dedicated this blog to God, the original Artist and Gardener,Creator of everything, I wasn’t interested in making it into a “daily devotional”. If I saw a parable then good, I’d share it with you but didn’t contrive everything to fit a devotional template. I have however, ended up sharing some of the deep things the Lord is working in me, along with the joys of his creation.

http://leafyjournal.blogspot.com/2011/09/same-song-second-verse.html
http://leafyjournal.blogspot.com/2011/09/garden-watered-by-god.html
http://leafyjournal.blogspot.com/2011/10/to-bloom-again.html


I’ve also shared some nuts and bolts of gardening how-to’s from my years of gardening experience, working in flower/plant shops and reading garden books—my first book club purchases as a child.


Of course, as an artist, color is a really big deal for me and
always influences my garden as well as my posts.



I hope you’ll "visit" with me in my garden for many more “sunrises.” I’d love to get your feedback in comments or e-mails (leafyjournal@yahoo.com). There’s even a place at the end of each post to click on “reactions” to the post and a place to click for sharing the post on facebook, twitter or through e-mail—bring your friends, the more the merrier. Thanks for stopping by!

Meet Oskar

Oskar isn’t a puppy or a kitten but a red amaryllis bulb. Oskar is the variety name for this giant red and there are undoubtedly millions of them—but then there are millions of Davids and Anns too. One of my garden books says that the best bulbs are sold by name rather than color; the named ones are grown “vegetatively” while the ones sold by color are grown from seed and not as good a quality*. The Latin name for amaryllis, Hippeastrum, is variably defined as knight on a horse, knight star or horse star (because it’s so big).

It’s been awhile since I’ve grown an amaryllis but I decided that it would be nice to have one for Christmas, and to share its growth with you.

I bought Oskar at a giant home improvement store, checking through several boxes to find one that had sprouted a bud rather than only leaves—sometimes if leaves come first, that’s all you get.

Boxes and boxes were stacked shoulder high; red, red & white striped, pink, pink & white, white & pink as well as white vied for attention. I leaned toward getting the deep pink but somehow, in my mind, amaryllis and red always go together—especially at Christmas. Besides, it had a gold-colored pot and I’ve inherited from my great grandmother, a fondness for gold paint.

My first memory of anything to do with amaryllis flowers is the name of the little girl in the movie The Music Man. A pint-sized Ron Howard liked her but was too embarrassed to talk to her since his lisp made her name very difficult to say.


Much later, though as I said, I had grown several amaryllis plants and photographed them and had drawn and painted most any other kind of flower, for some reason I couldn’t draw or paint an amaryllis. But I persisted and accomplished this collage/painting The Lord Turns My Darkness to Light.

*Crockett’s Indoor Garden, James Underwood Crockett; p.12

Safe Harbor

It began raining last night; I’m sure the water pipe repairmen digging a huge hole in the ground so deep that they had to look up to see out, were glad that they had filled it in before the rain started! Will “inclement” weather prevent them from digging and replacing the next part and leaving us once again without running water? A recorded message at the office hinted so. But I’ll still be prepared.

A fresh breeze blows through the dampness giving the air a comforting feel that reminds me of harboring at my grandmother’s house as a child too sick to go to school. It may have only been one cool rainy morning but the memory stuck as a good one.

However, I prefer to be indoors in such weather; the larger heliotrope plant seems to be happier indoors too. The bougainvillea however, is going through its annual leaf drop. It does well enough indoors, even blooms a little but invariably drops its leaves when its environment changes, then grows new ones. It seems that I’m forever picking up leaves but at least it doesn’t have to have a litter box or be walked.

The Last Flowers of Summer?

Perhaps this is the last arrangement of my garden “flowers” for the season. The Victoria Blue Salvia is more intensely blue violet with the cold weather and the Parrot Leaf is as bright as ever, not seeming to mind the cold one bit (yet). When I uncovered them this morning I was struck by the intensity of their colors and knew that a cobalt blue “vase” would magnify that intensity. Why not bring some in before they were gone since both “flowers” were plentiful? (When I was younger, it seemed that all the “older” women referred to everything in a garden that wasn’t vegetable or tree as “flowers”).

I spent several years in the floral industry but I still like my grandmother’s flower arranging style, “They need to look natural like they do when they’re growing.” She was ahead of her time. ☺

In the garden I saw two bright red male cardinals vying for territory and, probably, a mate. I can’t remember when I last saw cardinals around here.