Was I bad? Or practical?

I’ve mentioned the abandoned house next door a few times. The sheriff’s sale has been postponed yet again, and the woman at the sheriff’s office told Mike that often the banks hang onto these properties for years, unwilling to let them go “for a song” like everyone thinks will happen. We wonder if the place will just cave in at some point, and still worry that someone unscrupulous will buy it.

In the meantime, I had an all-day-in-the-yard working day on Saturday. It was great, but tiring. I noticed the sad house had some pretty phlox blooming around the bottom of the mosquito-magnet pool, and a row of large, thriving hostas. They were the only thing even remotely attractive about the place, so they stood out.

We have lots of spots that need filling in. Would it be so terrible if I dug out some of said phlox and hosta and gave them a good home? Mike thought not (as long as I didn’t “decimate” things), so off I went with my shovel and bucket.

I tried to be sensitive — pulled some phlox from several spots, and found one hosta trying to grow out from under a large log someone had dumped on top of it (there are large wood “rings” from a cut tree piled all up the yard). So I dug that one out, and took some pieces from another, leaving 4 or 5 completely intact. I noted again the complete dismal state of the place — abandoned lawn mower and kid’s bike, falling down swing set and shed — and kept a wary eye out for poison ivy.

But I also noted that someone had taken care to try to make the pool area attractive, with lights around the base, raised planting beds prepared with fabric to keep the weeds down, nice mulch. The weeds are starting to win out now, but I wondered when it had all gone so wrong. The vamoosed neighbors are the ones who put up the pool at some point. What made them totally give up? Nothing was done home improvement-wise in the 3 years we lived side by side — we were happy to see the grass cut every now and then.

Even so, the “no trespassing” and “respect for private property” gene runs deep in me, so I do feel a little guilty about the foray (I remembered that scene from It’s a Wonderful Life where George and Mary throw stones at the abandoned house they later buy…)

I also feel like I want to go over and grab some more of the same.

Am I a thief or a thrifty gardener?

I know if someone responsible ever does buy the place and fix it up, I will go over, admit my pillaging, and make amends with divisions from my own garden, at once returning the favor and easing my nagging conscience. (And if someone awful buys the place and trashy people move in, I’ll be sorry I didn’t take more.)

A man sooner or later discovers that he is the
master-gardener of his soul, the director of his life.
~ James Allen

The case of the disappearing…

…Purple Ajuga

OK — who can tell me how a whole flat of purple ajuga can just disappear?

I planted said flat last fall — all 48 or so little plantlets — spread in the shade garden and under the holly trees out back. Seemed like an endless task.

This spring…gonzo.

I know I’ve fallen victim to empty plant-tag promises before, but ajuga is universally known as a hardy, can’t-hurt-me, full-sun-to-full-shade groundcover.

So where did it go?

Groundhogs? Rabbits? Squirrels?

Please bring it back. No questions asked.

…”Hardy” Mums

Every fall, I dutifully plant the mums I’ve purchased and enjoyed for a couple weeks. I plant them well before they stop blooming. Well before frost.

Every spring, nada. Nothing. Nary a sprout.

Maybe I don’t fully understand the meaning of the word “hardy.”

…Coral Bells

Former “Plant of the Year” my foot. I can’t keep coral bells (heuchera) alive to save my life. Every year…limping along (if alive at all), whether purple, green, or fancy yellow-orange. Whether sun or shade or some of each (I keep moving them in desperation). “Reliable perennial” indeed.

…Liriope

I was fortunate last fall to find a flat of ‘Big Blue’ liriope on the clearance table at Lowe’s garden center at a ridiculously low price — and it wasn’t dead, or even half dead. Nursery sites describe it as “very easy to grow and tough as nails.” Great! I planted the 15 or so plants under the magnolia out front, and they hung in all winter. Then, last week, I noticed the foliage had died back and they weren’t looking so good. No wonder. Seems something had pulled them right out of the ground. I stuck a few back in (still in my sick state, I didn’t have much energy), and vowed to come back for a closer look. But I forgot this past weekend and I’m not confident the 87-degree temps didn’t do them in. Really — what the hell? (I also found a small astilbe out back that something had pulled out of the ground. What the hell?)

Apparently it’s not enough that I must constantly battle the black death emanating from my thumb. Other-worldly forces seem to be conspiring against me as well.

The only words that ever satisfied me as describing Nature
are the terms used in fairy books: charm, spell, enchantment.
They express the arbitrariness of the fact and its mystery.
~ G. K. Chesterton

Bring out your dead

deadboxleafAaahhhhh, we’re coming off the rarest of the rare here in Western PA — two glorious sunshiny days in a row ON A WEEKEND! Actually three, as today promises to be beautiful as well. So beautiful I won’t even complain about the record-breaking heat (87) in April because the low humidity and steady breeze and a lot of sunscreen made it bearable.

While productive, it was also a little sad. Time for the annual garden episode of Survivor — as in, who did and who didn’t. This year: several confirmed casualties (two boxleaf euonymous [seen above], a pink coreopsis, and a pretty blue groundcover I don’t know the name of, a couple thyme plants [curiously a couple other of these did great]) and several potential casualties (a hydrangea, three ‘Wild Thing’ pink sage planted in border with Russian sage, which itself looks like it could use a few shots of vodka, or had a few too many). Also lost some things that had been fine wintering in big pots before — most sadly, a beautiful blue trailing Veronica.

Plus I think I figured out why Frick and Frack the hydrangea brothers haven’t progressed in four years: They must be a variety that blooms on old wood, so because they die back to the ground every year and have to start over, they’ll never bloom (frickin’ frackin’ shrubs).

You’d think I’d learn by now, but I’m always taken in by those blasted plant tags and something different blooming at the garden center. I need to be ruthless in not buying anything that claims to be hardy to “0 to -10” because invariably we get a few nights below zero (though rarely -10) and it must be too much for them. That would explain the dead euonymous, the surely-dead-but Mike-says-give-it-a-chance pink sage (“I’m not dead.”), and the never-blooming hydrangeas, including another two non-hardies I planted last fall. (OK, I think I get it now. Finally. Fortunately, the two oakleaf hydrangeas and the dwarf Pee Gee called ‘Pee Wee’ seem to be doing fine.)

But, of course, never say never. I took an expensive chance on something I’d never heard of — Siberian Bugloss — and have been thrilled with it in the shade garden. Beautiful silvery leaves, charming tiny forget-me-not flowers. It’s lovely. I know now this is what they had in mass plantings around Fallingwater that we saw last spring. Just stunning. I hope I can find more, as these plants were a chance find at the Lowe’s in Somerset.

bugloss

I’ve also (sort of) learned, to save my receipts so I can take dead soldiers back to the store within a year. Managed that for the euonymous ($17 credit at HD now, thank you) and will do the same for the surely-dead-but Mike-says-give-it-a-chance pink sage and possibly its neighboring, iffy Russian sage (so much for that lovely border on top of the new side retaining wall).

On the good side, the big bag of daffodil bulbs from Sam’s Club I planted last fall did wonderfully — many varieties that bloom at different times and very long-lasting. I’ll for sure be doing another bag come fall.

daffies

More good — all of the 10 or so boxwood we planted are doing fine, along with probably 30 other shrubs or perennials planted last year (and many more planted in previous years). We’ll be here four years next month, and I can hardly believe how much we’ve transformed the garden.

But….so much more to do. It was a working weekend for Mike as well — back at it on the porch/sunroom project. The lawn is a disaster — giant bare spots out front from last year’s big-dig sewer project and more weeds than lawn in back. I think we’ll be forced to hire professionals when the time comes to dig it all up and start over.

But that’s another project for another spring. In the meantime, I’ll be working hard to avoid more casualties (not really — I’m more of a “you better be hardy because I’m not babying you” gardener) and Mike will be working hard to make progress on some of our ongoing projects. In other words: Business as usual in fixer-upperhood.

Hoe while it is spring, and enjoy the best anticipations.
It is not much matter if things do not turn out well.
~ Charles Dudley Warner

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