Heading into August

I seriously had no idea tomato plants could reach such epic proportions!

When it comes to flowers, I am a fairly confident gardener. I grew up in my mother's flower garden after all. She had a vegetable garden too, but my memories of our family vegetable patch has more to do with raiding it for an after school snack, than any working knowledge of growing vegetables. As a child, I loved picking green beans off the vine and eating them raw, warmed only by the afternoon sun. Raspberries were a favourite too. I liked them best slightly under ripe, when the berries were tart and a bit sour.

Although I can clearly remember helping my mother plant beans, peas and carrots each spring, I took no interest in growing vegetables, preferring to help with the flowers garden instead. So when I decided to create a vegetable garden this spring, I did not feel entirely like a I was standing on a solid footing of practical experience.

The design of the vegetable garden was the easy part. I had been carrying around a basic layout in my head for a number of years (filed in my brain under the general heading of creative ideas, right next to the series of large abstract paintings I hope to someday paint).

I knew I wanted a formal arrangement with four raised beds centred around some sort of decorative feature like a fountain or urn. (In the end, I went with an urn that I already had on hand.)

The thinking behind the raised beds was practical, as well as aesthetic. I figured the dogs were less likely to tear through raised beds. (As it turned out this reasoning wasn't particularly sound. We had no sooner filled the boxes with triple mix, when I discovered Rusty standing proudly atop one of the new beds, throughly enjoying this new, elevated vantage point on the world.) 

I don't want to bore you with too many of the construction details. Briefly, we marked off the beds with string held in position with 6" metal spikes. To create each bed, we dug down about 12 inches, removing the grass and the less than ideal soil.

Then, to make the pathways, we laid down heavy duty weed barrier and covered it with natural cedar mulch. (Eventually, we plan to replace the mulch in the centre section with flagstone and create more of a courtyard, with a French styled allée on either side.)

Each of the four planting boxes with made with 2 x 8 cedar planks. I opted not to finish them in any way. I know this means the boards will likely rot and will probably need to be replaced sooner than later. That is a risk I that I am willing to take in order to have a chemical free environment for our vegetables.

Once the boxes were constructed, we lifted them into position and backfilled them with triple mix.

This sounds rather straight forward, but the whole project took many weekends to accomplish. Planting was therefore delayed until we were well into the growing season. (If I was going to tackle a similar project again, I think I would do the construction in the fall, so everything is properly in place for the start of the planting season.)

In mid-June, I bought fennel, celery root, pepper, tomato and zucchini seedlings and way too many seeds for the relatively small space available. I started frantically planting everything, hoping to have some kind of harvest before the fall frost arrived.

On the edges of the boxes, I planted herbs and marigolds.

I was encouraged when green shoots sprung up through the soil. These are baby carrots.

The tomatoes quickly doubled in size and I ran out to the Canadian Tire store to buy hooped metal supports.

Then all hell seemed to break loose! As you know, a family of bunnies moved in and started eating every succulent shoot in sight. The tomatoes kept right on growing until they out-weighed the fine, hooped rings. Without proper support the heavy branches sagged and then, answering the call of gravity, they headed straight down to the ground.

A little too late, I remembered Deborah (Green Theatre) writing about the "towers" she and her husband had constructed to support the tomato plants in her kitchen garden. Oh, if only I had recalled that blog post sooner, I might have fashioned better supports for my own plants!

Anyway, enough complaining! Hopefully, I can still salvage some of the plants. At least the herbs and onions are at least doing well. And I managed to cordon off my sweet peas with some temporary fencing, so the bunnies wouldn't make a meal of them too.

Before I sign off, I want to quickly show you what else has been happening in the rest of the garden.

Daises shaped flowers are everywhere. There are yellow ones...

and pink ones...

and ones with black centres.

There is certainly no lack of color!

The ditch dayliles have passed the show over to their hybrid cousins. In the front yard, there is a mix of pink and orange flowers. These ones in front of the picket fence are cantaloupe colored (Evening Gown). 

Just inside the fence, there are smaller pink ones.

If we now head into the back garden, the hosta are just about finished.

In this part of the garden, the pink and burgundy lily color scheme slowly gives way to yellow.

There is a pretty blue-purple geranium in flower. (Geranium vivace 'Rozeanne'). The plant flops a bit, but it blooms later than the most other geraniums I have in the garden.

The pink lilies are just about done.

In the circle garden, the daylily color scheme changes once again to shades of red and orange. Now, if only my tomatoes had fruit this red and delicious! Oh well, there is always next year.

Last week, we spent a few relaxing days in picturesque Niagra-on-the-Lake. We even managed to get into Toronto to see the big Abstract Expressionist show at the Art Gallery of Ontario. 

Slowly, we are slipping back into our normal routine. I look forward to catching up with you and hearing what has been happening in your garden.

Color Essay Number 11: Burgundy

The bouquet of carnations in my front hall has got me thinking about the color burgundy and its uses in the garden. (Carnations are so common that you can forget to appreciate them for little beauties they are. Not only are they inexpensive, I find they last forever as a cut flower. I always try to pick a bouquet that have a rich, spicy scent.)

In the garden burgundy is a color that can be found not only in flowers, but leaves and stems as well. Without further delay, let's take a look at great places to find burgundy in the garden. 

In my garden and elsewhere as noted, I hope you will find a few ideas of how to inject a bit of burgundy into your planing schemes.

Burgundy hollyhocks in a neighbor's garden.

Burgundy hollyhocks look pretty mixed in with different shades of pink here in the Lucy 

Maud Montgomery garden in Norval, Ontario.

A daylily from my own garden. Sorry, I am not sure of the variety.

A birdhouse to break things up a bit.

Japanese Blood Grass in the background with the burgundy stems of Heuchera (coral bells)

 in bloom in the foreground. Private garden in  Eramosa Township.

Deep burgundy mix with peachy pink dahlia in this bouquet from the local farmer's market.

Late in the summer, sedum can be counted on to add a show of pink and burgundy colored flowers. Last two images are from Edward's Garden in Toronto. 

Dragon's Blood (left) is a great burgundy colored groundcover in my small rock garden and an unknown variety (quite possibly Sedum 'Autumn Joy') from my circle garden (on the right).

"Purple Petticoats"a new Heuchera that I added to the front garden last fall.

The grey-green leaves and burgundy stems of the the Sedum on the left and the Heuchera on the right do a nice job of breaking the expanse of green leaves.

If you are thinking of adding a splash of burgundy to your own garden this spring, don't forget to consider some shrubs. The Ninebark shrub on the right really makes a nice backdrop for this bed of annuals at Edward's Garden in Toronto.

I have been trying to resist Barberry because I hate their fine, sharp thorns, but when I see a planting like this, I find my resolve weakening. Lost Horizon's Nursery, Acton, Ontario.

Barberry effectively injected into the sea of green on the left and up close on the right. Lost Horizon's Nursery, Acton, Ontario.

In terms of trees, Japanese Maples are a great way to add a hit of burgundy into an 

expanse of green leaves. Lost Horizon's Nursery, Acton, Ontario.

A personal favorite, Euphorbia 'Bonefire' covered in frost crystals in late fall.

A final bit of burgundy in my front garden. Mums, which I add to my beds in the fall, help to keep the flowers going into late October.

The dark stems of my Dogwood carry the color burgundy right through the winter. 

This shot is from Canada Blooms.

Have a great weekend!

Taking it Out Front: Gardening in the Public Eye

Gardening in the relative seclusion of the backyard is one thing. Taking gardening out front is sometimes a brave act of self-expression that is not for the faint of heart!


One bright, sunny day in early summer, I was out in my front garden attempting to prune a wildly overgrown forsythia into submission. The afternoon was hot with the first flush of summer humidity. Without much thought beyond comfort, I had dressed in navy shorts and an old worn tank top.

As the story unfolds you will see, that this was perhaps shortsighted for a number of reasons. First among them: the branches of the uncooperative bush was fighting back by poking and scratching my bare arms and legs.

When I paused for a breather, I looked over to see a compact car packed with teenage boys had come to stop at the red light at the corner. Through the car's open window I could hear their boisterous laughter and fragments of conversation overtop of some rather loud music. While stopped for the light, there was little to occupy their attention, so their gaze turned in my direction. Then one of them, no doubt egged on by the society of his peers, yelled out a very rude comment, the kind of demeaning observation that only a cocky teenage boy would dare say in public.

How does one respond to such a brazen remark without endangering one's dignity even further? Even if you are quick enough to fire-off a sharp tongued zinger, it would probably only up the anti and escalate an already unpleasant situation. After all it doesn't take much mental agility to be cruel.

Mid-summer Tiger lily

Let's face it, as a society we take particular interest in not only making judgements, but sharing our observations, however impolite. Wether its tuning in to see who will be voted off the island this week or calling in to vote for your favorite singer or dancer on this season's latest slate of reality TV, we love to participate in passing judgement.

You would think that one's home and garden would be an oasis from the mad world of snap judgements. Certainly this may be true for a secluded back garden, but take it out front on to a very busy street corner like mine and you quickly discover that you are the unwilling center of attention for every bored motorist passing by.

Gardening is my escape from day to day concerns. Though I regard it as my own personal oasis, when walking into my garden on our busy corner, I sometimes feel as if I have just stepped on to a theatrical stage.

I don't want to worry about clothes, hair and makeup when I garden, but it is hard not to be self-conscious when people gawk and stare as if the simple act of deadheading a rose bush was the most fascinating thing they ever saw.

God forbid you forget yourself for a moment and bend over to pull out a weed without having carefully considered the view you might be presenting to the world!

Now you may respond that I should be flattered by all this attention. No, not really! Just imagine if you could ask an animal at the zoo if he is flattered by all the gawkers. If he doesn't eat you for the sheer audacity of your question, he would tell you that there is nothing flattering about being watched.

Sometimes as the only sentinel at a busy intersection, I also find that motorists expect you to be freely willing to dispense driving directions. When I car slows, I now find myself preparing a mental map of local roads and calling up the addresses of popular destinations like the discount chicken outlet several streets over.

Seriously, it is beyond me how someone can leave the house with no idea whatsoever of how to get to their destination. How many times have I had to deal with a motorist on Venus who wants to get to Pluto. So often, I have been tempted to say impatiently to the lost motorist, "It's hopeless! Retrace your steps and go home. Then start over, this time with a map!" It has gotten to the point that, in order to deal with the litany of lost souls, we have begun to store local street maps in a wicker basket on the front porch. Believe you me, I have considered sending an invoice the local tourist authority for services rendered!

Late summer bloomer.

There are also garden questions from passing motorists. One woman, a local school bus driver who had stopped for the red light called out to ask the name of one of my roses. With the seconds clicking rapidly by before the light went green, I felt like I was on a game show: Name that Rose!  With the panic of the contestant knowing the buzzer was about to ring, I quickly replied that I had forgotten the name and would have to dig out my plant list and look it up. In the seconds before the light turned green, I did manage to give her the name of the nursery, hoping that she might look up the rose herself. Well the very next day, didn't she roll down her window again and ask to know if I had looked up the rose's name. Of course I was polite, but I felt like replying that I had no idea I was working to a deadline.

Fall mums in the front garden.

Not only am I expected to dispense free gardening advice, I am also expected to be willing to hand out free stuff. By way of example, one woman after a few brief pleasantries, practically demanded to know if I had any "suckers". Another woman, who saw me moving a large perennial clump, stopped her car to ask me if I was throwing the plant out and could she have it?

For me, generosity is not something you ask for or expect, it is something you receive.

Frost crystals on one of the roses.

Now, I have to balance this long rant to say, that I have also had wonderful feedback on my garden. There has been so many times when I have been favored with the ultimate comment. Motorists have taken the time to pull their car to the side of the road and have crossed the busy street just to tell me how much they enjoyed seeing the garden's parade of summer flowers. In particular, I remember one older gentleman who wanted to shake my hand and tell me that my garden brought him "great joy" every time he passed by. I was very touched and flattered.