My Accidental Garden

My gardening style is pretty simple. Plant it and if it lives it can stay. If it dies, it wasn't meant to be there. When I lived in Florida I had one section of the yard that was more reminiscent of a dust bowl, than the garden of Eden. I finally pulled out the sparse grass, put in a walkway, and planted a few hardy bushes that would grow anywhere. During the Christmas season our house was decorated with poinsettias. As spring rolled around I would take the poinsettias outside and stick the potted plants along the fence in the 'dust bowl' garden. Three months later I would plant any that were still alive. The hardier ones made it. The weak ones didn't. My style of gardening.

Here in Pennsylvania it's been a little different, but as I've related before, gardens and planning are two words that don't really work well for me. Most of my landscaping was not the original plan I had in mind, but consists of the 'substitutions' the landscaper assured me would work better. He was right. I am very happy with his choices!

At the edge of our yard is a ravine that was partially created by the developer. It is steep and was bare when we moved in. Now it is covered with wildflowers and renegade trees. I wanted to create a barrier garden to separate the 'weeds' from the grass.  I marked off the garden, killed the grass, and covered it with mulch. I planted a few daylilies with plans to divide and plant more in other areas. I transplanted some cone flowers and Queen Anne's Lace from a neighbor's yard. One day I saw some zinnia seedlings and thought they might be a pretty addition. Before I had a chance to plant them I discovered something was eating my plants. The cone flowers were nubs cut off at ground level. The Queen Anne's lace wasn't much better.

Hmmm. Not a good place to plant tender zinnias. I decided to plant them around the corner of our patio. I've never had zinnias before so I wasn't sure what to expect.

They liked the location. And I love zinnias! ( Ah yes. You will notice a morning glory also was planted there. Probably not a smart move since I routinely have to rescue one of my zinnia plants from the sneaky, or should I say snaky, tendrils of the morning glory. But we are all working it out. Live and learn!)

It is now late summer. Who am I kidding? Fall starts this weekend! As I sit on the patio reading, my zinnias bloom in a bouquet of many colors. The garden fountain gurgles in the background. Ageratum, a rose bush and ornamental grass frame out the space. None of it was planned. It all just happened over a space of a few years. It's my kind of garden.

It has become a peaceful refuge for us. Maggie lays in the grass, soaking up the sun. I enjoy the birds, the water, and the summer colors that linger into fall.

And the zinnias? They'll be back next year! My favorite accident.

A Little Apple Tree Grows Up

Last year, I wrote a story about our apple tree. We first planted this tree in the spring of 2009, but it did not 'live well and prosper'. (Thank you Mr. Spock)

http://viewfromanemptynest-connie.blogspot.com/2011/04/little-apple-tree-true-story-with-happy.html

After a difficult beginning, we kept the tree on the deck in the summer, out of harm's way, and for the last 2 winters it has stayed in the garage. (It is getting so big Larry needs to trim it so it fits inside.)


Every spring we wait for the blossoms. This year we were rewarded with lots of pretty little pink flowers. Some of those blossoms turned into apples. There were several baby apples that turned brown and withered before getting big.

However, one grew. We watched it every day as it went from a tiny green apple to a larger green apple.

 

A month ago it really began to turn red. Where it sat high on our deck I could see a spot of bright red from whereever I was in the yard.

 

Today, we harvested the little apple.

I cut it open. It was tart, but not sour, and I ate it!

 

 

Next year, maybe there will be 2! Only time will tell, but the apple tree knows we'll give it as much love, nurturing and time as it needs.

3 Old Dogs

We had a party last weekend; our "2nd Annual Labor Day Party". There was great food, lots of people, plenty of kids, one old dog, an array of beverages for all ages and types, and of course.... crummy weather.

Isaac had been making his way up through the heartland and had finally turned east. We watched the weather closely to see how we would be affected. Saturday morning the weather man optimistically assured us the rain would arrive late. Saturday should be OK, except for the occasional shower, but Sunday and Monday could be pretty wet. We set up an awning for people to sit under in case of a shower, or to keep off the sun. We cleaned the patio. We packed coolers with ice, water, and sodas so the kids would stay out of the refrigerator. We packed the refrigerator with beer. Lots of beer. Several kinds of beer. And Wine. (gotta have the wine.)

At 2:30 the first 'shower' arrived. Not to worry, I thought. As long as it is out of here by 5:00. At 4:30 the thunder began. At 4:45 the heavens opened. At 5:00 the rain paused and people began arriving. The coolers were placed in the basement Man Cave/party room. At 5:05 the heavens once again opened all its doors. A few neighbors had not shown up yet.

One texted "Is there a rain date?"

"NOPE, we're all in the basement. Just wait until it slows enough that you can see our house, and run on over."

The kids played. They played Tag. They played Hide and Seek. They played Squeal and Shout. They were having a wonderful time.

The adults talked, and mingled, and drank, and nibbled. They drank some more. We moved from appetizers to the main course. They ate, and talked and mingled, and refilled glasses. The kids continued to play the Squeal and Shriek game.

The old dog paced, went from child to child in search of food, and adult to adult in search of love.

The rain cleared and we sent them out to play. They saw lightning and came back in. One parent's eyes crossed as she mumbled to her friend, "oh go out and play anyway. it won't hurt you..."

The lightning moved on. The adults moved outside, and wiped off benches and seats and sat in the muggy, dark, quiet, cool of the night.

The next morning we woke up. I remained in bed in a groggy half sleep as Larry got his shower. He dropped something making a clatter and I jumped, (in my sleep). The dog slept on.

We went to breakfast at a local, popular tiny restaurant that is always packed. It is the kind of place 'where everybody knows your name'. After waiting for a table we took the one nearest the door. Shouts of welcome greeted newcomers from people already eating. It truly is a local haunt. Our eyes glazed over. The din was relentless. If we were hungover, we would have deserved the pain. But we weren't. We simply have Old Ears. Ears that are far removed from the normal noise of a household of kids. Ears that have adjusted to the Empty Nest. Ears that no longer bend and flex to the varying sound waves the way they did when we were 20.

Breakfast over we went back to our quiet home. No TV. No radio. No noise. We moved slowly through the day.

The dog slept.

Oh yes... Sunday and Monday they were still predicting 60% chance of rain, but alas, the skies were overcast, but dry. Perfect for a picnic.