Showing posts with label plantings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label plantings. Show all posts

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Dear friend Sally,

Holly Hobbie:

I was going to start this letter poetically, all about the sun and the warm earth, but I just can't wait to tell you: the peonies are coming up!  I'm so excited!  

Well, at least two of them are poking their little heads out of the soil. One of the others is in a shady spot and will probably be another week. I had almost given up hope. This will have been the third time I've tried planting peonies, with the prior two efforts ending in sad failure. (That's right. Not simply "failure", but "SAD failure".) They seemed impossible. I would enviously drive past yards in Miles City with their abundance of lush blooms, stems drooping with the richness of the flowers....
I would also tell myself (like Emma in the movie of the same name) that really they were drab little flowers and who cared? (I cared. I cared a lot. Has anyone in the world thought a peony "drab"? I thought not. Because they aren't. They're glorious.)

Now, I know you said that they probably won't bloom the first year. That's just fine. And I know I shouldn't count my blossoms before they set on, but I am. 

The cats think I'm nuts, gasping at the ugly little beginnings of the plants, then cheering. (Really, peonies are quite homely on day one and two. Maybe even into day three. They have little alien-like heads before their leaves spread out.) I have to be careful, because if the dogs think I love a plant more than them, they promptly dig it up or lay on it until it dies, gasping and cracking. 

I completely forgot to take a photo to post; I can do that tomorrow and add it here. 

In other, more ordinary news...
The tulips need divided, so they only sent out two or three reminder blooms this week, sulking until they have their way.  All the trees and shrubs have baby leaves, tender and bright. The birds make such a commotion when I venture near! Oh! And for a few days we had two little owls living here! They were grumpy and blinky because they insisted on trying to sleep under the honeysuckle bush right next to the front door. Tough neighborhood for owls. 

I need to get something pulled together for supper, but I wanted to share the news with you and my other friends who read the blog. Or who used to read the blog. It's been a long dry spell, I know. 
Isn't it delightful, though, to have garden triumphs?! 

Happy spring!
The Farmer's Wife



Monday, August 08, 2016

Postcards From the Prairie

I was looking through the photos I'd taken in June. June is when Montana puts on her finery and rewards us for living with her in January. Truly, I think the people who settled here probably got to the area in June, decided they'd found paradise, changed their minds in January, and by the time they got packed up to leave, it was June again and they forgot about January.

My Grandma roses! I don't think I've ever seen them bloom like they did this year.
The bush was weighed down from the blossoms and when you drove in the yard and got out of your car, the rose smell was just amazing. 


The road up to our house.


My Jodi roses! 
(My dad used to name his horses after the guy he bought them from. The "kid" horse I learned to ride on happened to be bought from a guy with the last name "Gross", if you can imagine. It was fairly rough when someone asked me what my horse's name was...
Anyway, I've taken to naming some of my plants after the people who gave them to me. This rose was from Jodi Pierson and neither of us have any idea what variety it is, so I just call it the Jodi rose.)
This was right before she took a huge hail pounding...


On the way home from Miles City, close to Angela and looking south at a storm blowing into Miles. We'd just finished a baseball game when things started getting stormy so we were glad to be out of there. If you look very carefully at the center of the picture, you'll see a slight ghost of a rainbow!

 Maggie and I love our antelope.
They're difficult to photograph, though, so anytime I get some image that's reasonably decent, I feel triumphant.  Kind of like taking pictures of a toddler.


Montana skies will wreck you for any place else...


The trees in our shelterbelt look to me as though they're always telling each other secrets. 
And when the wind blows, their "tummies" shake with laughter!
I wish I knew what was so funny.


There's no way to do a full moon justice in a photograph.
This one was particularly lovely in its flamingo pink tone!
(Okay, they call it a strawberry moon, but I like the flamingo pink idea better.)

Thursday, May 28, 2015

Hollyhock Hold-Em

Gardeners are gamblers.
There. 
I said it. 
There's no gardener twelve step recovery program, no Alcea Anonymous, no counselling or therapy groups because....get this....gardening has gotten this reputation for BEING therapy. (Can you beat that? It's being introduced in grade schools and prisons, for crying in a bucket! There's all this concern over legalizing marijuana in the U.S., while an insidious addiction is being released to vulnerable and unknowing citizens LEGITIMATELY.)

This time of year is the worst for gamblers....er....gardeners.
Every hardware/office supply/pharmacy/grocery store has a little auxiliary greenhouse set up to "deal" the cards (plants).  It's impossible to resist, even for those without dominant horticultural genetics. The greenhouses are just so...green, and bright, and smell good! After a long Montana winter, the colors beckon even the strongest willed curmudgeon.  

"Ooooo! Petunias! My grandma always grew petunias..."

and

"The tomato plant is $2.00 and will produce, like, 50 tomatoes.  I just spent $2.00 on ONE tomato at the grocery store and it'll be gone in 24 hours..."

or

"I grew a sunflower in a paper cup in first grade.  I could TOTALLY grow a garden this year. With petunias. And a hanging basket.  No...TWO hanging baskets."

You see?
EVIL!

And that's just the beginning!

When the soul is truly lost, one begins cutting moral deals with oneself. 
Example: "I don't spend money on cigarettes or gym memberships or even brand name salad dressing. I DESERVE a few flowers. And a couple tomato plants. And a rototiller."
Or so I've heard.

But the really ugly secret is about the underground plant deals going on in May, between gardeners of a certain level of commitment/addiction...

Here's the thing.
You can't move a day lily, iris, salvia, or viola in these circles unless you have a new varietal bootlegged from a cousin in Texas, say, who got it from Mexico, say, and "borrowed" the "cuttings" or "seed" from a garden they were walking past on a historical tour, say...
These are serious players. 
They're pro. 
Don't think you can offer up a regular old Harrison's Yellow rose *yawn* and get a blue poppy root. 
You'd better have something good. 
Something coveted in that zone.
Something....special.

The tricky thing about putting plants on the table in eastern Montana is that there are very, very few organisms that can survive in these conditions....-40 with windchill and no protection in January, 98 degrees with no humidity in July.  Basically, anything that will grow in either Siberia OR the aforementioned Mexico; preferably something that will grow either/or. 
Kind of like gardening on Mars.
And that's not mentioning the soil factor! 
The plant also has to be alkali tolerant, for the most part, and acclimated to gumbo soil which is basically clay pot stuff...goopy slick to cement consistency. 
This reduces the pool of plants even further.
Montana garden-lers have to learn to bluff really well or discover new species every few years.
If I lived in Missouri, I'd be throwing down Sophora secundiflora starts (Texas Mountain Laurel) and fishing for Aquilegia coerulea (blue columbine)...*wistful zone 5 dreams*...but here in Cohagen, I'm stuck with Russian sage and yarrow. 

I'm down to shuffling my own plants in my own yard, having no talent for bluffing or money for discovery.  
It's bleak.

HOWEVER...

It occurred to me when I was trying to unload some perennial geraniums and Siberian iris this spring that my mother-in-law (of the Pluhar Botanical Gardens) retired and moved last fall, forgetting to pack her abundant inventory of plants. Google searches don't have any information on the "respectable time to wait before garden salvage may commence" so I'm still in flux as to how long to refrain from relocating the loot.
I mean, saving the abandoned plants, of course.
And then...

Deal me in, kids; I'm back in the game!

actually
steal my MIL's plants. I may use the rhubarb and asparagus, but we've had a longstanding agreement about that for years, so it's not a dramatic showdown in any way.>




Saturday, September 03, 2011

Melange

Melange (pronounced m-lazh) is a French word that basically means "all sorts of different things altogether".  Sort of like a junk drawer of ideas when you find it at the Chronicles....lots of little thoughts that can't stand alone as a post, but that I want to share with you.

First, the depressing news about my garden. (Let's just get the bad stuff over with, shall we?)
We have had grasshoppers in plague levels. 

Here's my little tomato/flower/cucumber planters in a "before" picture:

Plant lovers, cover your eyes....it's brutal....

And "after":
 Same bed, one week later....those WERE marigolds in front, remember?

Enough about the hoppers.


On to another depressing topic...
:)
I turn forty this year.
There, I said it.
Whew!
And I had tossed around the idea of running a K race...any K; 5K, 10K, 1K.  It just seemed so...I don't know....standard and typical of someone turning forty.  We can't have that, now, can we?
Anyway, I get this magazine called Runner's World, which is full of people who take their running VERY seriously.  So seriously, in fact, that I can't believe I didn't have to have an interview and an approval before subscribing.  Really.
Yesterday, I was looking through all the races that are being held around the nation and overseas, and found THE race for me.  It's a half-marathon, which is incredibly intimidating (the "m" word...) and I'd have to be able to run it in just under 4 hours, even more intimidating.  I'm slow, folks.  But I think I can get faster for this one.

It's the Diva's Half-Marathon, and there's going to be one in Vail, CO next September.  It's my race.  Listen to the little write-up:

"Runners get the royal treatment-just after mile 12, they recieve a feather boa and tiara; at the finish line, "hunky" firemen hand them a glass of bubbly and a rose."
AND
"It is not just about the run but the whole weekend experience. All our events will host a 2 day Health & Fitness Boutique, a Girls' 5K (open to all ages and genders), a Diva Lounge and more. Some of our races will also host yoga sessions by the beach, Diva Pub Crawls after the race, spa specials, winery visits and more. Each city gives the race its own special flavor for a wonderful weekend with the girls or with family where mom, sister or daughter are stars."


I looked at the website and one can even personalize the running bib!
I think I'd better start working NOW. 
But doesn't that sound like a good first race?


Next topic of discussion:
And this is completely silly, but I've been thinking of it for the last couple of days...
Excluding major appliances (even the Kitchenaid mixer), what 5 tools could you not live without in your kitchen?
It's harder than you think, narrowing it down to 5!
I came up with:
  1. My little plastic scraper thingee from Pampered Chef...it scrapes flour off the counter, impossibly stuck food off pans...everything.
  2. Wooden spatulas made by one of our hunters.  They are invaluable AND beautiful, made of different woods.
  3. That in-between sized knife that is bigger than a paring knife but smaller than a big carving knife. 
  4. A really old grater that grates really finely...perfect for lemon zest or cheese or carrots.
  5. I don't know if this is a tool, but I have this big kettle that I use for everything...pasta, meats, soups, candy.  There's nothing it doesn't work for.  AND it has a clear glass lid, so I can see what's going on all the time without removing it!
What's on your list?

One more thing: fantasy football. 
I have a draft tomorrow and I have no idea what to do.  One of my high school classmates put together a league, just for fun and so that we could all reconnect, and I let myself be talked into joining.  It's not like I don't get deeply engrossed in the season, anyway...become fiercely competetive over events I have no control over.....re-play games in my head as I drive....wear the same "lucky" shirt every Sunday for 20 weeks.  Now I have a new reason to watch! And my team's name is Hail Mary, which is appropriate on so many levels...

But I'm absolutely lost as to how to do this draft thing.
Any help at all would be greatly appreciated.

I have my list of players, and perhaps I'm a little too ambitious for the first time out.  See what you think of my first round picks, made a week ago and now may have to be revised:

QB- Michael Vick (He's everyone's 1st round draft pick, I'm guessing; so predictable.)
WR- Terrell Owens (I wanted Crabtree, but his health is iffy...darn it!)
RB- Frank Gore (And I KNOW he's a 49er and they're miserable this year...again....still...but I like the guy.)
TE- Vernon Davis (Although, maybe I should look at Marcedes Lewis....input?)

I don't even know how many rounds I need to prepare for!


Blessedly, I'll end the melange there.
Happy Saturday!





Wednesday, August 03, 2011

Crop Tour 2011

Every year, our county agent puts together a crop tour in which a bunch of farmers get on the Senior Citizens' bus and drive all over the county looking at test plots, new varieties of grains that are being planted by progressive farmers, crops that were SUPPOSED to look good but don't for one reason or another, and range.

For several years, my friend Anne (who also happens to be the county agent's lovely wife) and I were the only girls on the crop tour.  We joked about it and started calling ourselves Foxtail and Kochia, two weeds that farmers hate to see in their fields. 

Here's Foxie and the little Foxtailettes....they were NOT impressed with the whole idea.  The Foxtailettes, I mean, not Foxtail herself. 
They took off early in the tour, because it was naptime and there was zero tolerance for standing around looking at wheat.

This picture just makes me smile, and I put it in for a Nana in England who misses these babies!


This is the first stop on the tour, here at Langs Fork, Inc., where we had a test plot of different kinds of winter wheat.  It didn't turn out well, due to a combination of the wrong seeding rate and lack of fertilizer...the spring was just too wet to get it applied.  My father-in-law is very disgusted with the way it turned out, so if you see him on the street, please don't mention that you saw these pictures on the Chronicles.  Thank you.


To look at the berries, the guys take a head of wheat and roll it around in between their palms, tearing off all the chaff and beard, blow it out and then they can see how full or heavy the wheat is and all sorts of other things. 

Our county agent discussing some of the reasons the wheat looks so bad in this test plot, and how the diseases like tan spot and rust don't overwinter here in Eastern Montana, but that they blow in every spring from the East.  Thanks, North Dakota!


The father-in-law that you didn't see in my blog, picking a head of wheat that you didn't see in my blog....


Here we are at Rod Lawrence's field....gorgeous stand of winter wheat!  *insert "Ooooo! Aaaahhh!"


Two professionals, checking out the varieties that were planted side by side.  If you want to learn a lot about farming, stick close to these guys...


Stinkin' grasshopper on Rod's beautiful wheat!


Taken out of my window, because I'm doing a challenge with my friend Patricia about scenes from windows. I love rear view mirror pictures...something about seeing ahead and behind, all at the same time, that intrigues me.


Peas that are READY to be cut!  I want to say these were Randy Brusett's peas, but I may have that wrong. ***They were Rod Lawrence's peas! The editor extends deepest apologies...*** I was always the last to the field and taking pictures, so I missed some of the finer points of the information...like whose crop it was and what the planting rate was.  Drats.

Stomping around in the pea field...


Oh!  Here's richness!  Check out the hay bales!  My cousin John went into the haying business this year and what a way to start....they aren't all in this picture, but a little over 7000 bales.  Big bales. So...if you need hay, let me know and I'll put you in touch with him!


We then drove something like 20 miles to the next wheat...Jeremy Watt's.  He lives in country that is closer to the Fort Peck lake and it's completely different farming, there. 

And here's HIS wheat.  Pretty, hm?  I want to say it was spring wheat, but again, I may be wrong....


The country is beautiful...


Lots of little prairie potholes with water in them, so there's more water fowl than normal...


I just liked the looks of this old hill.


We were SHOCKED to see longhorns on our way back to town!  What in the world...? 





Goofy horned!
 A Garfield County crop tour takes about 5-6 hours and covers an incredible amount of miles!
(I'll check with the agent to see how many we did that afternoon....)


Sunday, July 31, 2011

Tackling the big issues...

I've been avoiding this topic for years. 



It's not pretty.



It's a problem that 6 out of 10 people face every summer.  EVERY summer!
And it's non-gender related....it's across the board; men and women, old and young, urban and rural. 


Zucchini.
*shudder*

A seemingly perfect vegetable, because it grows easily, has a gazillion uses, requires little care to produce...
Every spring, gardeners (and those who would never term themselves as such) plant at LEAST 5 hills, having some sort of winter amnesia about this little plant.  They seem to think that THIS is the year only one plant will make it, getting all nostalgic about zucchini bread like Grandma used to make, and that one hill is pointless, really. 

One hill of zucchini can feed a decent sized village in Mexico for approximately 3 months, non-stop. 
No kidding.
We ALL know this!
We are ALL in denial, in May, when planting our gardens!

We are ALL in despair, in late July/early August, when the harvest starts.
At first, it's sweet and happy.
"Oh, LOOK! A little bitty zucchini!  At last...something to harvest!"
And we bear it into the kitchen, chop it up in tiny little pieces, hide it in a green salad and feel quite proud of ourselves.




A couple weeks later, it's a desperate, crazy situation, not unlike dealing with the plant from Little Shop of Horrors, except in reverse.  Instead of demanding that you "Feed me, Seymour!", the plant grows to gargantuan proportions (even IF you stop watering the darn thing) and shoves its green fruits in your hands, pockets, anywhere there's an opening.  It's feeding you. Viciously.  Not just one plant, mind you...you planted something like 15 of them. (Three seeds to a hill, just like the seed packet says...moron...)

And THAT'S why you don't leave your car unlocked in Jordan, Montana from the first of August until a real heavy frost.  I was zucchini bombed when I was a single, starving young woman living on raman noodles and powdered milk.  I found an unmarked brown grocery bag on the front seat of my car one morning when I was leaving for work.  I was thrilled!  Free food!  After eating three of the 57 or so zucchini in the bag, I was cursing whomever may have left them. 

Because...and here's the funny thing...no one can bring themselves to throw away zucchini.  The vegetable has some strange power that controls your mind and won't allow you to dispose of them in any other way besides eating them.  It's true.  If you tell a stunned gardener or zucchini bomb reciepient to just pitch the dang green thing, they'll recoil and say something like "But I CAN'T!  I need to make something with it!"

True story.



That's why I've decided to do The Twelve Days of Zucchini, starting August 1st.  For twelve days, I'll post a new (to me) recipe for the obnoxious ingredient; something that may or may not be helpful, but it will at least ensure that you don't feel alone while drowning in your self-inflicted sea of zucchini!  (Take heart, brothers and sisters...we're all in the same boat, so to speak!)

For those of you who DIDN'T plant any, I urge you to lock all your doors and don't make eye contact with any garden-y type people who approach you with bulging coats and bags, and a sickly, frantic look on their faces...

Friday, May 20, 2011

Dirty hands

*This post is for Fontie!  Everyone else will probably be bored to tears unless you are a gardener...

In May, my hands look like this almost every day....
....it's completely delightful!

I was allowed to go to the greenhouse, unsupervised, for about an hour on Wednesday. 
This is big.
I don't like shopping...despise it, in fact, except for books, shoes and plants.
A girl can never have too many of any of those, really.

I showed remarkable restraint this trip and only brought home six perennials and a handful of bedding annuals.  It's a bit too chilly for the annuals, but this is perennial weather and if my budget hadn't been quite firm, I'd have just backed up the car and hauled off a bunch more. Maybe rented a UHaul...

Yesterday morning, since it was too muddy to brand, I planted my loot.
Meet Veronica....
Isn't she lovely, with her coy, curling ways?
I have high hopes for this girl! 
One of my beds has been neglected, and I needed something with distinct form and moderate height....I think Veronica will give me what I'm looking for, here. 
Zone 3-7.


And the fussy sisters....Agastache
I messed up, here, and probably will chalk these ladies up to very expensive annuals due to garden amnesia.
The first rule of my gardening manifesto is:
"Thou shall not culture fussy plants."
I completely blew the zone...6-9....when I'm a 3 or possibly 4 on the right side of the house.
I was all entranced by their delicate mango blossoms and healthy growth.
I've been eyeing agastache in High Country Gardens, pretending I could incorporate them into my beds and then accidentally went and bought a couple.
We'll see.


Rudbeckia, my little workhorses....
They look so...short and pointless, right now! 
One of the things I love about gardening (and gardeners) is that one can look at a tiny, seemingly insignificant plant or seed and see the promise of full grown plants.


Relocated Alcea (hollyhocks)....
They don't LIKE being moved around, so I'm hoping they'll forgive me and grudgingly grow here.  I need the height in this spot and am too impatient to wait for the seeds to grind away for two years before blooms appear....


Love/hate tulips...
Maggie wants purple tulips next year....
Perhaps, if I think of it in time, we can find a good spot for purple tulips.


Little pansies, waiting for a home.
No blooms!
When I worked at the greenhouse, I had a hard time convincing customers to buy the plants without the blossoms, even though those are the ones you really want. 
When a plant starts putting all its energy into the bloom, the foliage and roots come in second and third place.  I like looking at the blooming plants in the green house, just to see what they'll be for sure, but when I buy my plants to take home, I look for the ones that haven't started yet.


AND if they do have blossoms, I pinch 'em off as I plant them.
That sounds mean, doesn't it?
It's really doing a favor to the plants and ensures stronger, healthier growth in the long run.
Sort of like spanking kids to discipline them. That's how I look at it, anyway.
Here's a row of marigolds that have been shorn of their flowers, waiting for their tomato companions to be planted next to the white stakes.
I know.  Blows your mind that I planted anything in a straight row, doesn't it?


Here's an intoxicating little plant:
Chocolate mint
It smells like a peppermint patty! 
It gets lots of love, because everytime anyone comes near it, its little leaves get rubbed to release that glorious aroma...


Lemon balm....also much carressed and adored.


Baby chamomile! 
Chamomile smells like apples....even on the hottest days of summer, if I crush some chamomile and smell it, I get a cool, fresh feeling. 


Some of the seeds I planted last week are coming up!
Actually, they're exploding out of the dirt in the raised veggie beds.
Peas are the most beautiful little plants.  They have little tendrils that reach like arms and very humble, straightforward leaves.  I smile when I look at baby pea plants....because I can't hug 'em.


Carrots are not so adorable, as babies, but they make up for it later by being all feathery and elegant, when the peas have become tangled, misbehaving plants that quarrel amongst themselves.



Little envelopes, filled with gardeners' dreams....

It's raining again today, and I'm looking forward to slogging out and planting the patient little pansies, pulling weeds and making more plans for my next trip to the greenhouse!



Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Geranium Wishes and Salvia Dreams, Dahling!


The seed and plant catalogs flooded my mailbox, today. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. Is it just me, or are they sending them earlier and earlier every year? I'm thinking these companies sense that gardeners may have gotten cash for Christmas and they hit us when we are most vulnerable...in the dead of winter.
I will tell you right now that the best gardens I've ever grown were virtual gardens, planted in the fertile soil of my imagination with wanton disregard for my actual zone, soil and water situation. I've raised absolutely stunning lavender in huge clumps, with dinnerplate dahlias and rambling roses....in my imaginary garden.
In my REAL garden, the only stunning huge clumps are white yarrow, which I despise, and saucer sized dandelions, and rambling virginia creeper. (Would anyone like some yarrow, by the way? Free! I'll throw in a kitten, too.)
And here's a painful confession: (as most confessions turn out to be) I am a seed catalog snob. There, now you know. I don't know if it was Mrs. Greenthumbs and her books, or the Master Gardener program with Bob Gough, or Barbara Damrosch and her Garden Primer....it's hard to say. But I wouldn't be caught dead with a Gurney's catalog in my house. (I'm SO SORRY! I know lots of my friends adore Gurney's. I hope we can still be friends, after all this.) I drool over Cook's Garden, WhiteFlower Farms, John Scheeper's, High Country Gardens. There are actual wrinkled spots in the catalog that I blame on my kids spilling milk. It's me. I have to have the Latin names, the snooty descriptions, the hand-drawn seed packets. It's a curse, I tell you!
What's worse is that I'm not really that great a gardener! I love plants, love gardening, love garden shopping, love greenhouses and for all that, I'm a pretty average gardener. With really cool catalogs, and an inordinately wide botanical Latin vocabulary. Even if you call it Hemerocallis, it's still a daylily. And you can describe it how you will, it's still orange.
Well, I'll save some garden thoughts for later. The picture included here is one of my planters on the deck last summer. Actual, unretouched photo! It makes my heart ache for June! But I have lots of snooty garden catalogs to get through this week, and thousands of miles of flower and vegetable beds to plant in my head.
What catalogs do you like? (Or, for those WhiteFlower Farms girls, catalogues...)