And now for the maintained garden beds

Yesterday I posted the drop garden meadow from our NYS home.  Today I will finish up this nostalgic love story with pictures of the more formal beds.  

The vegetable garden

I wish this was a better picture

This takes in a few garden beds, and 
looks back to the vegetable garden

the front of the house

my favorite photo of "the land"

July - sheer joy

one of the beds in front of the drop
gardened meadow

The wetlands way out back, with some
drop gardened purple bee balms

Drop gardening in NYS

When you have a ridiculous number of perennial flower beds, each year you have a lot of dividing to do. For many years I gave our extras to friends, neighbors, co-workers. But most people have limited amounts of space.We were lucky in that we had an acre and a half of land. At a certain point, I decided I'd take the divided plants I didn't want in the maintained beds and drop them on either side of the path in the meadow. These areas are referred to on the map of my previous post as areas 24, 26, and 29. 

I'd usually put down a little dirt, and then plopped the plants/roots down. Drop gardening, I named it. I watered them a time or two, and then just let them live or die. Many lived and naturalized. Here are some pictures of that area in all it's glory.

day lilies and red bee balm

From the back of the path looking towards the 
garage and house.

Foxglove, for crying out loud.  It loved to
naturalize and reseed.

From the path looking west towards area 26 and 29
and a little bit of the veggie garden

In this picture you can see the trumpet vine in front of the
garage, and my gorgeous husband.

The path going out to the wetlands. 
Area 24 on the left, area 26 on the right.

From the back of the meadow looking towards 
our little veggie garden.  Purple bee balm.

Day lilies, the wild kind you find in the ditch 
along side the road. We also had
hybrids in the maintained beds - later for that.

Sorry, I don't seem to have pictures of spring when the dames rockets were in bloom, and I don't think I captured the purple cone flower (which never did as well as the other drop flowers).  Oh well.  I know they are there.  

Remembering garden beds

We lived in the Finger Lakes Region of New York State for 39 years, moving to Central Florida in 2014. We didn't buy our first house until 1990. It was an old house on one and a half acres out in the country, adjacent to state land. 

Perennial garden beds were our passion for 24 years, and it seemed like each year we couldn't help but put in another, and then another. By the time we moved it was ridiculous. We left the new owners a hand-drawn map and a detailed summary of what was where. 

Ignorance is bliss

We don't really know what we are doing when it comes to vegetable gardening in general, and particularly in Central Florida. However, each February the veggie muse demands we try.  

When we lived up north, all our energies went into maintaining perennial beds for flowers we simply cannot grow here. We thought we were successful gardeners, wise and gifted. Then we moved to Central Florida, which boxed our ears and scolded us harshly for our northern conceit. Quickly we learned we knew nothing. We surrendered to the heat and humidity, and figured out what flowers would or wouldn't grow. Veggies are definitely beyond us, though.  

Having said that, we try tomatoes each year. We live in hope. Occasionally we get a tomato or two, and we had good luck with cherry tomatoes one year. Last fall, Tom stuck a tomato plant in the ground. I knew it was too late to plant, but I said nothing. If he's happy, I'm happy. It grew, thrived even. Best of all, it overwintered and didn't die.  

Today I noticed one of the tomatoes is starting to turn red. Joy and rapture. Notice how unhealthy the bottom leaves look.  

Crinum Lilly

The back of our yard is dominated by two cabbage palm trees. Because of the path of the sun, they provide some shade for the garden underneath and between the two trees. Right now there is an overgrown and obnoxious schefflera plant in the middle front, with azaleas on either side. Those three plants are the central focus of our view from the lanai.

Five years ago only the palms and the overgrown and obnoxious schefflera filled that space. We've been trying to fill it with bromeliad, white bird of paradise, dwarf poinciana, croton, and cordyline. None of these new plantings are mature yet, but they will be eventually and it will be beautiful.

I don't love that overgrown and obnoxious schefflera. A giant crinum lily is what we need there. The schefflera can be dug up, divided, and planted elsewhere or shared with others. I just have to find the perfect giant crinum. 

The only problem is they attract lubber grasshoppers, which means we have to gear ourselves up for the killing season in early spring. Aaack. Everything is a battle.

Some random pictures of various types of crinum. There are a lot of varieties. 

Weed 'em out

It's hard to keep up with the weeds in my perennial beds. The summers in Central Florida are long, hot and oppressively sunny. It is impossible for us to get out there between June 15 and October 15 and weed. Instead, we mulch heavily in spring and hope for the best until Halloween approaches. 

We've been trying to use pine straw mulch because it is natural, native, and good for our acid-loving plants. Okay, we do it because we're trying to be politically right-on. However, I'm finding it similar to using herbal meds for physical issues. It sounds good but just doesn't work. Getting rid of weeds may require a sturdier mulch, and more of it. I'm sorry to say this. I really wanted to be kind and gentle, but those weeds must go. Time to get serious.

We've had a ridiculous amount of rain in the past few months so our hopeful, once thick and massive cover of pine straw has broken down quickly. Weeds are not smothered, they poke through the straw. They seem to benefit from the pine straw as much as our azaleas do. They grow and multiply. We're going to have to dig out an entire bed of Louisiana iris to get to the weeds and start again. This time I'm going to spray the tubers with water to try and wash out the weed seeds before replanting. That'll show 'em, right? 

Weeding is a fight that may never be won, but must always be fought. 

Reminds me of politics. 

Aches and Pains

I ache from gardening today. I am battling a specific flowering plant propagating via underground suckers AND volunteer seeds. It is called Mexican Petunia, a non-native perennial that was here when we bought the house. Mexican Petunia is choking out my canna lilies! This  formidable enemy will take me a long time to vanquish. I have fought this particular battle many times before with invasive plants. I am not worried. I will prevail. I know what to do. Although it is a frustrating struggle, it has to be done. Can be done. Will be done. I am sore, but that's why God invented ibuprofen, right? 

Time is the forgiving nature of gardening. One does not have to do all the maintenance at once. I take as much time as I need to get the perennial beds ready. I take longer now that I am older than when I was younger. I love getting my hands in the dirt. I love digging things up with large, impressive gardening tools and metal implements. I love cutting plants back with both large and small "cutting tools." Mmmm, "cutting tools!" I am a cold-hearted weeding machine. Bring it on!

Here's to spring, my friends. She is already here in Florida, and soon will arrive for you, too. I promise.

See - my yellow canna is being invaded by the beautiful, but greedy Mexican Petunia!

Bizzaro World

It feels like summer now to this northern transplant, but it isn't. Summer is yet to come. Summer is a whole other kettle of fish in Central Florida.

After my Mother's Day post, I cannot stop thinking about my mother, especially in this heat. Mom hated the heat and humidity of summer. I can just see her in my mind, sighing and sweating. She preferred the cold, northern winter. I am the opposite. I hate the cold. It chills me to the bone.

However, I've said this before. From June through September it is too damn hot to be outside in the afternoon down here. Our lives are very different since we moved to Central Florida. Now we hibernate in the summer rather than the winter. I am absolutely not complaining. It is neither better nor worse. It's all good! I am simply marveling at how different one place can be from another.

We DO have two vegetable planting seasons. How cool is that? Mom would have loved it. I do, too. She always had a veggie garden, and she used Rotenone like it was going out of style. She was of the "why weed when you can spray?" opinion. I figure that is why she developed Parkinson's Disease. Sigh. There was no telling that stubborn woman anything she didn't WANT to believe.

One planting takes place in October, for things like beets, broccoli, carrots, cauliflower, lettuce, spinach, radishes. Everything else we plant in late February or early March. We have been eating juicy tomatoes from raised beds since late April. 

We grow basil almost all year round (lotsa pesto!). Our perennial herbs are always available. Hmmm, I don't think Mom ever used or grew fresh herbs, except when she made dill pickles. I can picture her kitchen table covered with mason jars, cukes, and sprigs of dill weed. It was one of the things she and my Dad did together. They also made grape jelly, sauerkraut, and put up innumerable quarts of tomatoes. Food was important in my mother's house, and we ate well.

Living in this beautiful, relentlessly sunny place is almost like living in bizzarro world, or in upside down land. However, I'm goin' with the flow. The politics sometimes stink, but every day is beautiful. I am grateful to be right here experiencing big changes in my life, at my age, in these times. No matter how long one lives, life is too short. I try to live my life with joy, and I do NOT use Rotenone. I like reaching into the earth and yanking a skanky weed out by its roots. It feels like a personal victory.

Here are some things in our small veggie garden this morning:

Orange grape tomatoes - they always make me happy

Zucchini blossom, such a tease

Japanese eggplant and parsley

Basil, patient and true

A morning in the life

At 7:00 a.m., I stumbled into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. I ate oatmeal while checking my blog for comments and reading your blogs. I put in focused Facebook time moderating that "secret group." I need postcards; instead, I wrote call-to-action letters to politicians who don't care. I do some variation on this theme most mornings. I usually do more of the same in the late afternoon or early evening. It is a post-Hillary thing. I think my husband (and many other husbands) fear his wife is becoming obsessed. We are not obsessed; we are persistent.

About 9:00 a.m., T and I rode our bikes to the post office. The sweet post office lady was out of pre-stamped postcards, which I took as a good sign. No problem, I can order them online. We are doing great things for the U.S.P.S.! On my way out I noticed white caladium making a spring comeback under a massive live oak.

Then we rode our bikes to a park on Lake Apopka to see what we could see. We did not see any alligators, but there was plenty of bird activity. The park's boardwalk has been closed to the public for 6 months. Repairs and maintenance are needed, but things do not happen quickly in Central Florida. Our sleezeball governor is probably withholding funds for this just like he's withholding funds to clean up the Everglades.

In the meantime, birds took over the boardwalk. I am sure they think the people-free boardwalk now belongs to them. A bald eagle has even taken to sitting at the edge of the walkway, but not today.

It was about 10:30 when we returned home.  Since I was already dirty, sweaty, and slathered in sunscreen I decided to stay outside and weed. Have I told you that I love to weed? Well, I do. It makes me feel accomplished. I am not sure why housework doesn't have the same effect.

I was gloriously filthy when I finished. T mulched over my work with thick layers of pine straw around cabbage palms, bromeliads, and azaleas. In a few areas I asked him not to mulch because caladium lived there last summer. They seemed happy and thrived until the cooler weather came. I'm keeping a lookout. No sign of them yet.

Here is a bad iPhone photo of the boardwalk this morning.  See the blue heron on the left?

Accepting Reality?

The month of June ushers in the heat, the humidity, the rains, and hurricane season. It has been very dry for a long, long time, so in some ways I welcome the rainy season. I just hope the pool doesn't overflow...

Last year we lost quite a few new plantings to the summer rains. This spring we took care to plant hardy native plants in the wet areas of the lawn. By the end of the summer we shall see what survives the deluge and what doesn't. I am trying to make peace with Florida, which (when you get away from the housing developments) is a big, beautiful, wild, and altogether primordial place. I am also trying not to become too attached to plants and flowers, knowing that they may not be here for the long term.

As I get older I find myself fine-tuning my attachments to people, too. I dunno, they don't seem to last either.

An old fashioned yellow iris from my gardens up north

Cute Tomato

Well, if you can believe it I ate our second homegrown tomato of the season this morning. I chopped it up and sprinkled it on a split five grain baguette piece, topped it with sharp cheddar and stuck it in the oven until the bread was toasted and the cheese melted. Yum. It was almost as good as a bagel.

We have a couple of teeny raised beds and we are able to start planting some things in March here in Florida. Since we bought tomato plants instead of starting them from seed, we have a nice head start on the fresh produce.

Our 4 year-old grandson, N, took the actual "first" tomato from the garden earlier this month. He wanted to take it home to Daddy. Unfortunately, his father was unable to eat it because by the time he received it the tomato was mush. It seems N used the tomato as a ball. We live and learn.

Little N is my partner in this year's vegetable gardening adventure. He helped me plant seeds for carrots, beets, snow peas, cilantro, green beans, zucchini, and basil. There was much excitement when the seeds started to grow. He likes to water the beds when he comes over to visit. Then he waters the fence, the shed, the house, and me. He loves the power of the sprayer, but he is still learning to control it. When he holds it in his grubby little hands he becomes a de facto sprinkler system. I love that kid. It is a joy watching him learn new things and make new connections in his little mind. It would be wonderful to have a mind so open and uncluttered again.  

and here is the third tomato of the season, coming right up

I live in hope

I planted caladium under the American sycamore tree out front. We shall see if it grows.  After so many gardening failures I no longer have strong expectations for things I plant.  However, I continue to live in hope.  Why?  Because it is always a visceral thrill when something I planted begins to grow.  In that moment, I feel joy.

As I age I find I have lowered my expectations considerably in nearly every aspect of my life.  I am no longer as excitable or exuberant as I once was.  That's a relief, considering what a big nut I can be.  I am not complaining, I actually think this "adjustment" is a reasonable and welcome change in my life.  I am more able to accept life for what it is instead of what I want it to be.  Who knew I had it in me to be reasonable?

It was fun being young and having unlimited expectations.  I enjoyed the excitement of thinking wonderful things were in store for me at every turn.  So often that turned out to be true. Youth was a great gig.  I think I made the most of it.  I have no regrets. But you have to kiss that joy as it flies. 

For those of us who are lucky enough to survive into our 50's, 60's, 70's, 80's and beyond, one occasionally has to look in the mirror and face facts. There is more of life behind us than there is ahead of us. That is not a tragedy, by the way.  I am not trying to freak you out. Youth and beauty are great, but they fade; they simply do not last. Joy is also momentary and temporary, but it continues.

Maypop, aka purple passionflower, aka Passiflora incarnata - a wild flower in Central Florida

At last!

I did some serious gardening this morning.  Now my lower back is killing me.  I need to bounce back fairly quick, as there is still a lot of digging and planting I need to do.

Last August I wrote, rather pathetically, about the Louisiana irises I planted in a wet area. I have been desperate for color in our small back yard for almost two years. I know most Central Florida people plant hibiscus and crepe myrtle to satisfy their color needs. We have both, but apparently I am a bit of a glutton because they are not enough. I want flowers, dammit! 

The rainy season (aka summer) is really hard on flowers down here, so I have been trying to plant things in the wet areas of our small yard that will survive both the mercilessly hot summer deluge and the drought that torments all growing things for the remaining 8 or 9 months of the year. I am happy to report that the first of the irises started blooming this week. They are fabulous! I will try to name them for those of you who lust after flowers like I do.  I believe this one is called Spicy Cajun Louisiana Iris:

I have also inexplicably fallen in love with canna lilies. There were some red ones in front of the house when we moved in and I just didn't like them. I'm no spring chicken and moving to such a drastically different climate was hard for me.  And when I say hard, I mean mentally hard. I was a huge sulking brat about the whole gardening thing. I thought I needed something familiar. Now I realize I just need something colorful, some flowers for crying out loud. Is that too much to ask? 

I missed the many varieties of flowers that can only be grown up north and resented the cannas for not being day lilies. Does that make me a bad person? Probably not.

Well, all I needed was more time to adjust and a few victories, because now I am in love with these crazy cannas.  I planted a few varieties last summer and they are starting to take off and bloom this year. They are slightly deranged flowers, always a bit out of control. I have discovered that is part of their charm. Each variety seems to have a slightly different personality, yet they are all stark raving mad. In a good way.

The next two are Cleopatra dwarf canna lilies in various stages of bloom.  They are not really all that dwarf: 

 













 

The next one is my favorite.  It is a Louise Cotton dwarf canna, and the color just knocks me out.

And here is a repost of that red canna out front that I didn't used to like.  I don't know what kind it is.  Now I love it.  What a difference a year can make.

And here is a precious flower from the past, Etta James singing "At Last."

  

Cruel to be kind, in the right measure

Although there can still be the odd day in the mid-50's (Fahrenheit...), now there are an increasing number of days in Central Florida when the temperature hits the mid-70's. The deciduous trees remain stark and bare; no sign of leafing out yet, but it won't be long. Spring is definitely on its way.

The crepe myrtles in the neighborhood have been cropped cruelly hard, looking like massive sticks. They look terrible right now, but it had to be done. Proper pruning promotes new growth and keeps plants full and lush.

Crepe myrtle waiting for spring, and some azaleas beating them to the punch.
Those are live oaks in the background, they are called that because they don't lose their leaves in the winter.

When it comes to gardening, you have to be cruel to be kind, as the man sang back in 1979.

Once again it is time to work outside, pruning, moving, dividing, and planting. That is exactly what I have been doing all week. It feels good to be outside digging in the dirt again, knowing good times are ahead. Any minute there will be a surge of life and all those gnarly twigs and massive sticks will wake up, bursting open and showing us what they can do.

I have been looking forward to this gardening season. We are less Upstate New Yorkers and more Central Floridians now. It is human nature to acclimate over time. It happens if you live someplace long enough, even if you stubbornly don't want to change.

I have a better appreciation for this place and some idea of what will grow here. More to the point, I know what will NOT grow here. I learned the hard way. I guess I have been pruned back hard, too. I am anxious to see what I can do, once spring brings me back to life.

And yes, that is the fabulous Carlene Carter who married Nick Lowe in this video.