Laughing Ravens

 bulbs   lightbulbs     light bulbs   heavy bulbs I moved some two year old peony seedlings today. Tiny little slips of a thing. They made it through winter but they needed to move.  Why? Well... you've heard the expression: "right plant, right place" well, that would be a massive understatement. Two years ago I goofed up. Insert your own expletive. Yeah, that one. I'm cheap/efficient/lazy (add your own descriptive invective).... which is the short way to say that I zigged when I should've zagged. Last spring, we had dozen upon dozens of winter-sown jugs covering the ground. Close to one hundred and fifty. Way too many. The soil mix inside the jugs was custom made, ultra-high drainage, modified potting mix. Loaded with grit. Monty says you gotta use grit. So we used grit. Stuff is expensive considering it's just granite grit fed to chickens... but I digress. Two years ago, in December, we planted quite a few jugs with peony seeds. Paeonia rockii,  Paeo...

At the end of the day, what needs to be written about bulbs? Every garden has some. Every gardener has their favorite. There's always some bulb which fails to perform as illustrated in the catalog or website. So why bother writing about them? It's been done to death. Every garden writer has extolled the virtues of bulbs. For me, bulbs are the gateway drug. Not a huge investment in money or time, or even for that matter space in the garden... you get an enormous return. Most importantly, you see the payoff at the most crucial time of the year, during the grey/mud season of spring. Without bulbs, spring is spent waiting for trees to leaf out and for perennials to wake up. Bulbs give us that splendid wake up call, announcing "Spring can now begin!" For a little more than ten bucks you can get one heck of a thrill! Years ago, we planted a few chionodoxa and scilla siberica in a long bed. They performed well. Life happened, and the bed became ignored. Health issues arose. ...

  It would be easy to say that it is too cold to be gardening. It snowed a few days ago. Enough to cover the ground and stick overnight. The ground however, has seen enough warm sun that it is thawed once again. As plants start to come up, I like to take stock of what's survived, what has done well, and what has thrived.  "Taking stock" is a great expression. It implies that you can formulate a plan by becoming aware of the big picture. By thinking carefully, one might gain insight into the decision that needs to be made. Hmmm. Yeah, I'd say that works.   It is easy enough this time of year to keep my hands jammed into my coat pockets and my collar turned up against the chill wet winds. With the slightest warm breeze, the coat is traded for a fleece that I dont mind getting covered in dirt. As soon as the ground is thawed enough to stick a spade in the ground, it is time to start planning where to move plants, who to divide and what can I learn from last year's ef...

 I've spent a fair bit of time over the last three days, wandering through the garden. With highs barely hitting the mid 40's, rain and wind making it feel much colder... it was tough to want to be outside. I spent last week running my second conference of the year. Despite the exhaustion, all I really wanted was to be outside among the plants and the birds.    Photo of iris reticulata, from Wendy Roller, irisarian extraordinaire (GRIS) This afternoon, the sun appeared long enough that it warmed slightly. Taking advantage of the light and leaving the camera behind for the day, meant getting close enough to get dirty. A few weeds, here and there, were pulled. Easy stuff with the soil wet from the last few days of rain. I don't understand people who try to weed their garden when the soil is dry. Way too much like work.  In an attempt to leave myself some breadcrumbs for a yearly almanac of what happens in the garden and where... I hope to record a few of the standout t...

I began writing this series of ideas down more than once... and stepped away each time I became so enraged by what I was writing. There is no point to me raging about the political state we're in. There are plenty of people who are better equipped to write about the politics and others who are better suited to offer encouragement and direction. I have none of those skills. If anything I have an excess of fear and anxiety.  For nearly fifty years I hid away my emotions as best I could, thinking it would keep me safe. It would be easy to blame my father for instilling that belief... he's dead and can't argue with me. As a child, I was sure he was right, as most children believe their parents to be right. I built a box to put those feelings into and when the box was full, I stacked it on top of the other boxes full of emotions. Every now and again, the box would overflow and the emotions would pour out in an "uncontrolled outburst" as my therapist explained it. Every...

 I started out tonight, wanting to write about loss and grief... shit that makes me blue. But blue doesn't reflect my sadness. I like blue. As a child it was my absolute favorite color. I could never understand why folks saw sadness in it. When I feel the pangs of grief, they tug at the wet cold greys and the icy mud.  Fragmentary Blue Robert Frost (1874 – 1963) Why make so much of fragmentary blue In here and there a bird, or butterfly, Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye, When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue? Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)— Though some savants make earth include the sky; And blue so far above us comes so high, It only gives our wish for blue a whet.   Blue-Butterfly Day Robert Frost (1874 – 1963) It is blue-butterfly day here in spring, And with these sky-flakes down in flurry on flurry There is more unmixed color on the wing Than flowers will show for days unless they hurry. But these are flowers that fly and a...

  This weekend, we lost power during the wild windstorm that screamed through on Sunday afternoon. All afternoon we had watched as the wind roared through the trees. We joke that anytime a squirrel farts in our woods, we lose power. We expected to lose power as soon as the winds started picking up. Of course, we had just picked up a load of cardboard for making new garden beds. The winds tossed those everywhere but where we wanted them.  The rain started coming down sideways like a wave of needles. For a good solid minute, none of the rain hit the ground... no joke. It was all sideways. Never seen such a thing before!  And then, just as quickly, click and the lights went out.  We assembled the candles and flashlights. Our phones had more than half battery power. We settled in for a late afternoon blackout. It was 4pm. It looked like 8pm outside. Not total darkness...but visibility was next to nil. The sun hid behind the clouds until it had squeezed all of the rain ou...