Yeah, I know, it's not real impressive yet. It sure looks better than that old building that used to sit there though and everything is coming along. I dug more space in the back to put tall plants. See? There's Hollyhocks, Okra, Cosmos and Four O Clocks back there sprouting from seed. In the middle is Zinnia (Cali Giants and Lilliputians), Salvia, Snap Dragons and Herbs. In the front Marigolds and a few Petunias. *
Planting Okra with Hollyhocks is a trick I learned by accident. The Hollyhocks are bi-annuals and they won't bloom this year. The Okra is about the same height and has papery yellow flowers similar to the Hollyhocks. I don't have a clue how to cook Okra. I just think it's pretty.
Planting Okra with Hollyhocks is a trick I learned by accident. The Hollyhocks are bi-annuals and they won't bloom this year. The Okra is about the same height and has papery yellow flowers similar to the Hollyhocks. I don't have a clue how to cook Okra. I just think it's pretty.
11 comments:
Uh yes it is impressive!
It might be...this summer! I keep taking pics of it.
it looks a hell of a lot better than it did. You have done a tramendous amount of work in that yard. I wish I lived closer so I could help you.
Very impressive and very beautiful!
Daphne
It's really amazing the transformation the place has taken!
I am writing in the garden. To write as one should of a garden one must write not outside it or merely somewhere near it, but in the garden.
...Frances Hodgson Burnett
I know first hand that very few words help when one has suffered loss--it's like being turned upside down and emptied out.
I wish for you that somehow Lissa and your garden will begin to fill you up, again. You'll never again be quite full, Pat, but your love for that darling little girl and your garden will give you the refuge you seek. Lissa will learn a lot from your garden and her bean garden!
You're right, the important pictures are here. Your garden is lovely--it's an "easy-going" garden. I have a poem tucked away somewhere about dandelions--I'll post it here. I saw a beautiful field of yellow out west, and we pulled over to look closer at the flowers only to discover they were dandelions--the very thing we try to kill in suburbia.
For Lissa:
A Child of Spring
by Ellen Robena Field
I know a little maiden,
She is very fair and sweet,
As she trips among the grasses
That kiss her dainty feet;
Her arms are full of flowers,
The snow-drops, pure and white,
Timid blue-eyed violets,
And daffodillies bright.
She loves dear Mother Nature,
And wanders by her side;
She beckons to the birdlings
That flock from far and wide.
She wakes the baby brooklets,
Soft breezes hear her call;
She tells the little children
The sweetest tales of all.
Her brow is sometimes clouded,
And she sighs with gentle grace,
Till the sunbeams, daring lovers,
Kiss the teardrops from her face.
Well we know this dainty maiden,
For April is her name;
And we welcome her with gladness,
As the springtime comes again.
Didn't take me long--it's in the travel log that I kept, thankfully, on our trips roaming around the west--than goodness for the memories--they give us roses in December.
Hurrah for Dandelions
It occurs to me
that the official, honest-to-goddess
woman-bearing flower is most likely the dandelion,
one fantastic creation what got piss poor press,
and has yet to recover full flower status.
Howsomever and nonetheless,
it goes on going on (to the chagrin of many)
painting grass with sunshine,
making tea, salad, chains, wine
and carrying wishes on the wind.
What else but a woman,
(or one dumb dandelion)
could withstand chemical warfare,
decapitation, widespread denigration,
being yanked out by its roots
and other decidedly unfriendly acts-
not to mention the piss poor press-
and go right on blooming her fool head off?
--Copyright 1986 by JG Masters
Coyote, thank you very much. That was so sweet. I meant to ask you before, but, why did you choose the name Coyote? I'm a Coyote fan, personally. I love their dusk songs. They sound like water music sometimes.
My Mom is Dandelion lover. Me? Not so much because they always spew a million seeds in my flower beds for me to dig out. But, little kids always pick you boquets of them and that redeems them. Chubby little hands clutching yellow sunshine. Who doesn't love that?
D,
I like coyotes because they are not liked by most people. They get a bad wrap. We've moved into their natural habitat and we blame them when they look for something to eat, which sadly is sometimes someone's favorite cat. I like their mournful howl, as well.
Now, why did I pick it? I didn't. It's an assigned anti spam email address--and I just decided to use it. Had there been one called wolf, I would have used that, too, for many of the same reasons.
Strange, I just got asked the same question on your gossip site--I thought it was one of several trouble makers I've run into before who will stalk me to the end of the earth if they could--they hate me that badly because of a misunderstanding on another blog. I apologize if it was you who asked, originally, but they came along soon after. But, let's leave that over there where it belongs. I love this site and your writing--I hope you'll let me stay.
Dandelions! "Chubby little hands clutching yellow sunshine". I'll probably never forget that. Thanks.
I love coyotes. When I worked in a steak house I would bring home big bags of left overs for them. They were fun to watch. I never had any problem with them. I shot one once, but, only because he was sick. Really sick.
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