Feast

It’s going to be a hard winter. I’ve got proof.

(There is a photo that is supposed to go here, but it seems to be lost amongst the thousands on my hard drive.  I'll post it when I find it.)

Folklore has it that oak trees produce an over-abundance of acorns ahead of a bad winter and fewer acorns when the following winter will be mild. This past fall, deceptively warm, was marked by a veritable monsoon of acorns courtesy of my neighbor’s oak tree.

Walking on my driveway and lawn was like walking on marbles. The sound of acorns crashing onto my car had me constantly checking for dents. I even checked my head for dents after being hit more than once.

Good did come of all of this mayhem. Normally, I have to harvest the seed pods from the Blackberry Lilies long before they ripen because the squirrels consider them a delicacy. This year, I must have missed one. And so did the squirrels. They had apparently gorged themselves on acorns and weren’t looking for anything else to eat so a lone pod was able to ripen and then open, showing the shiny black seeds that make the characteristic autumnal display.

Veterans' Day Flowers

Thanks to the mild weather we’ve been having, there is still color in my gardens. Just not what you would expect. Not asters or mums or goldenrod. Of course not! This is my garden where anything can, and often does, happen.

Before the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of the Cold War, while nuclear war still seemed a possibility, I read somewhere that the only things that would survive a nuclear attack were cockroaches. I’d like to amend that statement to include Rudbeckia.

Over the years, I have learned to take advantage of their propensity to grow anywhere. I dig up small clumps and distribute them to friends, confident that even the most neophyte gardener with the blackest of thumbs, can’t kill them. They are a great “starter plant” for timid beginners. It doesn’t matter where they are planted, like cockroaches, they will grow and multiply.

Which is how they have spread all over my yard. Any place where I need a little color or nothing seems to grow, I plant some knowing that within a few years, I will have a big bright bunch of yellow flowers.

I seem to see the world differently from most people. Take, for instance, my introduction to old-fashioned single hollyhocks. As a child, I first saw them growing along a rustic split rail fence, their huge stalks towering over not just me but also the adults. Who were all admiring the thatched roof on the house. A house with a thatched roof is unusual but a house with a thatched roof in the middle of a city is downright bizarre. While the adults were wondering how much the homeowner’s insurance was costing the inhabitants of the thatched roof house, I was wondering what the big flowers were called.

I grew them in the garden I had when I was in high school. My first house had too much shade in the yard to grow most flowers. My current yard is shady except for the strip along the Ugly Green Fence. I tried growing hollyhocks there but they succumbed to rust.

Occasionally, one still pops up either from dormant seed or seed brought in by the birds. Sometimes they manage to hang on long enough to flower.

I have one garden where virtually nothing grows. I don’t know if there is something wrong with the soil or if the quantity or quality of the sunlight is a problem. The garden was originally dug by my daughter and planted with mainly purple flowers. The daffodils, iris and asters that she planted still grow. I planted sage which has done well and Echinacea which hasn’t done so well.

And then there is the bare spot. Not even weeds grow well there. Years ago, I tried planting all green flowers in that space, but they didn’t even make it through one season. Except for the miniature rose. It’s still going strong. Every year it gets bigger. I’m wondering how much larger it can get before it is no longer consider “miniature”. It seems immune to the Black Spot that attacks my heirloom roses. And it blooms exuberantly. The flowers are only very vaguely green but they definitely make up in quantity what they lack in color.

Sole Survivor

I had this great idea last year as the much-anticipated Pinetree Gardens catalog arrived. Instead of just ordering their luscious red zinnias to be planted in the hummingbird part of my “Butterfly/Hummingbird Garden”, I would also order zinnias in orange, yellow and white.

I would create waves of color. The red zinnias, as usual, would surround the hummingbird feeder. Next to them on either side would be the orange zinnias, followed by the yellow zinnias and ending with the white ones. Very Gertrude Jekyll.

I should know by now that any time I have one of my “great ideas”, it should be duly noted but never, ever put into practice.

Two rabbits moved into my backyard this year. Initially I wasn’t alarmed, having already dealt with a cotton-tail attack years ago. A truce of sorts was eventually reached. They stopped digging up and eating my tulip bulbs and I stopped planting tulip bulbs.

Tulips are a waste anyways. They look great the first spring and then are never seen again. I concentrate on bulbs that not only return every year, but also multiply, spreading color everywhere. Snowdrops, crocuses, daffodils, grape hyacinths. Can’t beat ‘em.

So when a couple of Peter Rabbit’s relatives showed up this spring, I allowed myself to think “how cute!”. For about 30 seconds. Which is how long it took me to discover that all of the tiny annual seedlings interspersed among the perennials were really a Bunny Buffet.

I start all of my annuals from seed. I fill in the gaps between the perennials with them, creating little spots of color. This year, I had only gaps. The seedlings never made it past their first set of true leaves.

Those waves of color in the Butterfly/Hummingbird Garden? Never happened. I planted the zinnia seeds, was happy to see most of them germinate and thrilled when the seedlings made it to their first set of true leaves. Then I never saw them again.

Literally overnight, every single plant but one disappeared, victims of the voracious rabbits. Perhaps mocking me, they allowed one zinnia to grow. Appropriately it is white, the color of mourning in most Asian cultures.

Blooming in My Garden

Aconitum napellus
I don't know the variety of this monkshood. It was part of a collection of different varieties that I ordered and planted years ago. This is the only one that survived. And this is the first time that it has ever bloomed.

Frelinguysen Arboretum

Visiting gardens and arboretums with non-gardeners can be trying so I jumped at the chance to re-visit Frelinghuysen Arboretum today, this time with volunteers from Rutgers Gardens.
First, I give you the Photo of the Day:

As usual, this was one of those “oh, that’s nice, let me get a quick shot of it”. At the time, I was concentrating on finding an artsy way to photograph the architectural details of the accompanying house. Which did not come out as well. When will I ever learn?

There is a rose garden at Frelinghuysen, but my favorite garden is the veggie garden.

I don’t even grow veggies, but if I did, I would want to do it in a garden just like this.

About a decade ago, someone had the bright idea to use the runoff from the parking lot to create a “marsh/meadow garden”.

Today we would call it a “rain garden”. No matter what you call it, it’s still beautiful.

You can see more photos of my visit to Frelinghuysen Arboretum on Flickr.

Ordering Seeds OldRoses Style

One of my fondest wishes has been granted. Seed catalogs no longer start arriving in October. Instead, the first catalog, Pinetree Garden Seeds, one of my favorites, arrived in the middle of November, then there was a lull of several weeks before the rest of my favorites began to show up. After years of trial and error, I have narrowed down the catalogs that I consistently use to ones that offer seed that I want to grow and have good germination rates. And the winners are: Pinetree Garden Seeds (also the winner in the Most Attractive Packaging category), Select Seeds (which now carries a selection of heirloom bulbs), Seeds of Change (love their offerings of herbs and native plants), Park Seed and Burpee.

I always tell people that I may work in IT, but I’m not a geek. I prefer to think of myself as a gardener with computer skills. I have to admit that I am a little geeky when it comes to ordering seeds. After weeks of careful perusal, I write out my order from each catalog. This takes several days because of overlap between catalogs. I check each one for the best buy on the seeds that are offered by more than one company.

Next comes the geeky part, the spreadsheets. I create a workbook for each planting season, spring and fall, each year. Every workbook has a Master List, listing every seed (spring) or bulb (fall) ordered that season followed by worksheets for each catalog the seed/bulbs were ordered from, followed by worksheets for each garden bed. All of this effort tells me what I’ve ordered, from which catalog I’ve ordered it and where I’m going to plant it. It also helps me to see if I’ve forgotten to order something.

I know that this sounds like an awful lot of work, but I highly recommend it. I have workbooks going back to Fall 2005 and I’ve discovered some Fun Facts:

Fun Fact #1: Despite the fact that my seed orders vary in content each year, they are consistent in number. I ordered 68 types of flowers and herbs in 2006, 2007 and 2008. This year ended that streak. I ordered 70 kinds of flowers and herbs.

Fun Fact #2: Pinetree Garden Seeds has moved from last to first place. I ordered 5 packets of seed from them in 2006, 10 in 2007, 11 in 2008 and 23 in 2009. I increased the number of zinnia colors that I ordered from them this year not to mention their fabulous prices on my other favorites.

Fun Fact #3: Select Seed, my favorite source of heirloom flowers held the top spot in 2006, 2007 (24 packets each) and 2008 (27 packets) but fell to third place this year with 16 packets. They have begun to carry fewer of my antique favorites and more “New Introductions”.

Fun Fact #4: While the number of cosmos varietes has steadily declined over the years from 4 to 1, the number of zinnias has held steady at four.

Fun Fact #5: I only grew one marigold for years, the variety changing from year to year. That streak was broken last year when I grew two kinds of marigolds. I have ordered the same two varieties this year.

Starting last year, I added height and any special growing instructions. The growing instructions are helpful in pinpointing good candidates for wintersowing (“needs cold stratification”) or reasons for germination failure (“needs light to germinate”).

Then in a final burst of geekiness, I place my orders online and blog the experience.

More On Light

Yesterday’s post featured a photo that I took at the EARTH Center when I attended the annual Master Gardener picnic. I took a number of photos that day and despite the fact that it was late afternoon, they came out rather well. I don’t normally like afternoon light but I think because it was autumn and the sun was weaker and lower in the sky, the light was less harsh than usual.

A wildflower meadow was planted earlier this year for birds.

Paths were mowed through the meadow to encourage visitors to explore the meadow.


Even this late in the year, when most of the flowers have finished blooming, it was beautiful.


You can see all of the photos that I took at the EARTH Center on Flickr.

December Color

I’m back after marathon nightshifts. Seven in eight days, 77 hours total, with only one day off. The normal maximum is four nights followed by three days off. But thanks to a combination of employee vacation days and car trouble, I worked longer and harder than I ever thought possible. By the end, I was so exhausted that I was hallucinating. Auditory hallucinations. I kept hearing music. Like a radio playing in another room and you can’t quite make out the words or the music to the song that is being played.

Of course, after wearing myself out like that, I developed a raging sinus infection. Which was bracketed by a wisdom tooth first breaking last week and then extracted on Monday. And yet, I still found the time and the energy to go to the gym twice a week, admittedly slightly less than my normal three times a week.

Today, I was finally able to get outside during daylight hours to see what was going on in the gardens. I was pleasantly surprised to find color still.

Antirrhinum majus ‘Black Prince’

This snapdragon is reputed to have been grown by Thomas Jefferson at his home, Monticello. It’s flowers are dark red. The foliage, dark green, during the summer has now turned a rusty red in my late fall garden.

I am developing an appreciation of the role that foliage plays in the garden, both its color and shape.

Mid-November Blooms

Despite the cooler night time temperatures, a few flowers are still adorning my garden.


The pink, blue and lavender blossoms on my Nikko Blue hydrangeas have turned a uniform rosy pink.


That same pink fades to a dull red.


The dull red fades to a sea green.


And finally, the green dries to a dull brown. I leave the dried flowerheads on all winter. They are more attractive than bare branches.

Autumn Glory

This is what I see when I step out my door.



I’ve been allowing a tiny Japanese maple volunteer to grow at the end of my driveway. All through the spring and summer, it looks messy and weedy. Then, in the fall, the reason that I tolerate it becomes apparent.


I’ve been taking lots of pictures of the fall color in my neighborhood. Soon the cold winds and rains of November will arrive sweeping all of the leaves away. The glory that is autumn will be replaced by the dull earth tones of winter.

Election Day Blooms

Fading Mums

Heirloom Marigolds
Last of the Cosmos
Marigold Bud

I was surprised to find entry to my polling place at the local high school restricted to one door and guarded by a police officer. Why? This is America. We don't riot. We patiently stand in line, cast our votes and then go on about our day. And if we don't agree with the outcome, we argue about it in court. And if we don't agree with the court's decision, we look forward to the next election. Because there will be a next election. There are no coups. This is America. We have peacefully changed governments for more than two centuries.

I hope that you voted today. It doesn't matter how you voted. It just matters that you voted.

Global Warming Alert

What’s wrong with this picture? It’s snowing. In October. In New Jersey. I’ve lived in New Jersey for a quarter of a century and I have never seen it snow this early. Normally we have our first snowstorm in January.

Wacky weather patterns like this were predicted when the scientific community began looking at the global warming phenomenon years ago. It is very frightening to see this and other predictions about climate change becoming reality. Even more frightening is the fact that it is happening much faster than the experts projected.

What Is She Doing Now???

To get that last photo of the zinnia from the bottom, I had to literally lay on my back and shoot upwards. While in that position, I noticed that it gave me great views of my neighbors’ trees.


This is the reason why there is so much shade in my yard. Those three trees are growing in other people’s yards and are so large that they overhang my yard. The only time that I get full sun is when the sun is in that small open space of sky.

My neighbors have seen me do a lot of strange things. I’ve dragged furniture out of the house to stand on and reach the tops of tall plants. I’ve walked in garden beds to press seed into the soil (actually recommended on the seed packet). I’ve gotten on my knees and hung my head upside down to take photos. So, as I lay on my back in the grass today with my camera pointing towards the sky, I imagined my neighbors looking out their windows, shaking their heads and saying, “What is she doing now???”

Three Views

Zinnia elegans 'Scarlet King'

The Last Gasp

One of the advantages of the long growing season in NJ (zone 6), now prolonged thanks to Global Warming, are the number of plants still in bloom in October. Not shocking, I know, to those of you in warmer climes but still a wonder to those of us who were raised in much colder areas of the country. I brought my camera with me today so that I could capture the beauty of the Display Gardens at Rutgers Gardens before the plants are removed and the beds raked next weekend in preparation for winter.

Photo of the Day

I love that the seedheads are all leaning to the side contrasting with the rigidly upright stems. The ornamental grasses in the perennial borders captivated me. I have a love/hate relationship with ornamental grasses. In the spring and summer, they repulse me. I wonder how anyone could possibly plant such ragged, weedy plants in their flowerbeds. But in the fall and especially the winter, when they come into their own, I am bowled over by their beauty. I am determined to add them to my landscape. I carefully choose spots where they will look best in my yard. And then, in the spring, the cycle repeats itself. I find myself at the nursery, staring at ragged, weedy plants in pots wondering how anyone could possibly plant such ugly things in their flowerbeds.

Look at the color! The patterns! Who could resist this?

Personally, I like this photo more. It looks like a child scribbled on it.

I’m still struggling with light. Since I was photographing in strong afternoon sunlight which I dislike, I tried getting around it by shooting shaded subjects like this:

That same harsh light, though, produces magical photos like this:

The Yellow Garden Cosmos (Cosmos bipinnatus) in my plot is finally blooming and yellow:

The earliest flowers were white, but like the Seashells Cosmos which curled as the season grew later, these cosmos have become yellow at the end of the season. I like them so much that I think I will grow them at home next year.

Another flower that I would like to grow at home is lantana.

I haven’t figured out how to use it, but after seeing these berries and falling in love, I’m going to try harder to find a way to include it next year.

Just like in my own yard, insects were everywhere.

The sky was an incredible blue today, as you can see from the first photo in this post. While I was photographing the bee, I looked up and saw this:

Blooming in My Garden

The green marigold continues to unfurl its petals. I hope that it has a chance to fully open before a killing frost hits.

Calendula officinalis
I’m continually surprised at how many insects are out and about in my gardens.


My hardy mum continues to delight.


Even when the flowers have begun to fade, the delicate pink of the dying petals enhances the bloom.