I have some news. Are you sitting down? Okay. Goooood. Now, take a deep breath. Exhale. Slowly. Ready? There is a house on Iten's Acres. Easy, easy there. Yes, Iten's Acres is not just meadows and a pond and zillions of flower beds and trees and an orchard and wild flower areas--there is actually a home on Iten's Acres, and I live in it. I first noticed it, briefly, when my real estate agent brought me here for the first time. And despite that discovery, I bought the place.
Now, originally, there was a metal structure in front of the house for parking your car. Since it blocked the view out the front doors to the acres I sold it. Poor guy that bought the thing not only paid money for it but also had to tear it down himself. By the way, even on the coldest, snowiest, rainiest days, as I scrape my car windows or shovel my car out of a snow drift or get soaked walking (it's against the law to run at Iten's Acres) to my car in a deluge, I don't miss it a bit. It's all about the view. The only creatures who miss the "garage" are the rabbits who use to congregate behind it under the eaves of the house in order to escape the storms. I don't feel sorry for them either--flower nibbling vagrants.
In addition to the house there are three sheds on the property. One has my lawn mower in it. One has my gardening stuff--rakes, shovels, etc. One has junk. I really don't need all three. The mice appreciate them. And the fox squirrels think the wooden one behind the house was built for them to nest in. When I cleaned it out this summer, the floors and shelves had layers of walnut husks. I finally stopped counting the number of buckets of empty walnut shells I hauled out of that place. The other two sheds are metal. Both the wooden one and the metal one farthest from the house have groundhog holes underneath them. Ahhh, the joys of country living, providing free food and shelter for the rodents of this world.
I do spend some time indoors. It's convenient for sleeping, for watching the Cardinals win the World Series, for using my computer, and for reading and writing. And I've been told it beats an outhouse--especially in the winter.
The house itself is a strange shape. (There may be a picture of it on fb in my photographs?) It's actually a converted shed of some sort. There are basically five rooms, unless you count the furnace "room." (I don't.) Then, there would be six rooms. (Again, I love showing off my majestic math skills!) The downstairs has three rooms; the upstairs has two. (There I go again.) Downstairs has the library/bedroom where Mom hangs out. Next to it is a long narrow room that runs the length of the house with a kitchen on one end--the front--and a "living room" on the other. The stairway to the second floor is at the back of this room. Right behind the library/bedroom is the furnace "place" and then right behind that is a little room I use as a TV room. Quite small. The back door enters into this room. I never--well, rarely--use the front doors. The back door is the real entrance to the home. Why not use the front door? It has the two big glass doors. Tons of light. It was--and still is to some extent--my indoor plant place. Mom, of course, has her chair right in front of the doors, but she is immersed in flowers and plants all around her. Not that she minds. She is their Lord Protectorate. "Ike, the lily needs water." "Ike, the Norfolk Pine is drooping. You should water it--a lot." "Ike, the . . ." You get the idea. They've never had so much love.
The library/bedroom is also the only room in the place that I've done anything to improve. (I have put on a new roof and added a new furnace.) The original walls have kind of a Southwestern adobe look. Yuk! The paint is not "smooth." I despise its color and texture. Anyway, I began the attack on the hacienda in the library. (You really didn't think that I wouldn't put a library in my house--no matter how few rooms there were, did you? Shame on you! In time I'll forgive.) My friends convinced me that in order to paint it correctly I needed to sandpaper the walls and make them smooth. Never again. I'm still coughing up paint dust. Anyway, three of the walls are now a creamy white color and the back wall is a deep plum red. There are six (full) bookcases in the room, a hospital bed for Mom, a table and chair for Mom to use for meals, and her viewing chair. Oh, and a chest for her clothes. It's very crowded for now!
The kitchen/living room is still in need of paint and brightening. There is a window over the sink looking out over the Acres. And there are a couple small windows on the outside wall of the house, and one at the foot of the stairs, but it's still too dark for my tastes. Someday, Lord willing, I'll put a huge bay window with a seat in it where the sofa is now. There's only one (full) bookcase in this room--and a table, a couple chests, my computer desk, a chair, and the aforementioned sofa. The kitchen area has the appliances and the washer and dryer. The only other area in here is "The Shrine." It consists of shelves that hold my collection of Pepsi bottles from around the world and a large Pepsi clock that the school gave me when they fell from grace and sold their souls to Coca-Cola. My eyes still well up when I think of the betrayal. No, I cannot forgive.
There is only one small closet downstairs. One. Yes, I'm emphasizing the lack of storage space.
The TV room has three (full) bookcases (got the idea yet?), a couple of chairs, the TV (duh), and two files filled with all my old school stuff. Once I go Home, I assume all that stuff will be relegated to a bonfire. Ahhh well, such is life. Maybe when I get a million dollars, I'll find a vanity press and publish my devotionals and an American Literature book? If books still exist by then, of course.
Upstairs there are two rooms--what used to be the bedroom and the inhouse. And five (full) bookcases. The once-upon-a-time bedroom is now merely an attic. Someday, Lord willing, I'll turn it into an office/second library of sorts. It is a dreadfully dark room. I need to put in a couple of sky lights or dormers or something. In the summer--one of the reasons it is no longer a bedroom--it gets really HOT up here. There's one small window at the top of the stairs that can be opened, but it doesn't create much of a draft.
There is only ONE tiny closet in this room.
The bathroom is bright--two large windows facing South--the front of the abode. But the place is quite dilapidated. The whole thing needs to be gutted and replaced. There is, believe it or not, some decent storage in this room. The room is fairly large as well. But again, everything needs to go, even the floor and lighting. Horrible. For now, it will do. It can still be flushed with success.
Yes, the house is small, but how much room does a chubby old bald guy need anyhow? It's more than enough room for me. No complaints. (Well, the closet thing . . .) But I spend most of my time outdoors anyway walking Iten's Acres. I will be content--even if I never make any updates. I wonder if there's a way to haul dirt into the house and plant some iris. . .
So, when you come to walk Iten's Acres, don't be surprised by the house. It has a patio out front and out back covered with planters to kind of hide its existence. But I confess, I go inside it to sleep and eat. And watch the Cardinals win the World Series--twice since I've moved here! Feel free to just come on in. Wait, wait. Back door, remember? Mom will enjoy chatting with you. You'll have to go back outside to find me.
There are three sheds outside but NO closets.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Saturday, November 19, 2011
The Blahs?
Mid-November is non-flower time. Okay, there are a few fall crocus here and there. And some lilac alyssum in a planter is still defying any and all attempts by the frost to kill it--so far. And the pussy willow by the pond is covered with red buds, some of which have already started to open and reveal their silver blooms. I guess, it hasn't quite learned yet that winter comes before spring. And the heuchera keep their color--yes, color--all winter, purple, yellow, red. And some flowers stay green all winter, such as the Lenten roses, mountain laurel, rhododendron. So, there is a dab of color here and there, but not much. Nothing at all like spring, summer, and fall. Does that leave me with the "blahs" as I walk my acres these days? Not a chance.
If I get in an early morning walk, the reunited outlaw gang of Bonnie and Gus join me on my trek. You should see Bonnie in her winter coat! Gorgeous. Whenever I go walking, Gus always comes running no matter how far away he is, delighted to let me pet him. I'm sure he thinks that's why I go on my walks. How can you feel blah when you have such furry friends to accompany you on your walks? Impossible.
And though it's almost winter, the birds are active. Cedar waxwings devouring the crab apples. Robins, that I assume have come from farther North and are on their way to the South, love the dogwood and hawthorn berries, and they don't mind socializing with the waxwings in the crab apple trees. Snow birds scatter through the woods and wild areas as you approach displaying the subtle black and white "V" of their tail feathers. A hawk soaring above me screams out his presence to the world below--fearless. Yes, it sounds exactly like a scream. A flock of crows in the plowed farm land across County Road 25 are cawing away complaining about everything. The gold finch, faded but still beautiful--congregate around the bird baths for their daily drinks. The chickadees and titmice love the evergreen trees--traveling companions it seems, year around. Some birds that are not "regulars" on Iten's Acres show up this time of year. I guess they're just passing through looking for a place to spend the winter--pine siskins, evening grosbeak, for example. Cold weather doesn't decrease the bird activity, and with the trees barren they are actually easier to spot. Binoculars are as important as "layering" walking the Acres in mid-November.
There is always, of course, serenity in just being outside walking. The hands are in the pockets on some days, but the eyes can see much if one is willing to actually look at what's around them. The clouds, whipped by the winds, are incredible. Fluffy white on an azure blue canvas or slate gray shapes playing peek-a-boo with the sun--it's calming just to walk and watch them soar; or, to sit in my chair on the hill and take in the ever changing colors and shapes of the clouds. Eat your heart out Van Gogh! You can't match God's artistry.
The starkness of the leafless trees contrasted with the beauty of the evergreens--firs, pines, junipers--is lovely as well. The bark of the trees, hidden from spring to fall, are distinctive in their own right. Multi-colored, textured, the papery browns of the river birch, the scars on the deer munched willows, the gnarled bark of the ancient maple--all these are marvelous. I have a surge of empathy for the 'tree huggers" of the world.
Even on days when the chilling wind touches the bones, walking Iten's Acres is a joy--in the front, around the pond, through the trees, across the meadow, down the hill, through the paths in the wild area--yes, joyous. Walk slow. Enjoy the company of your furry friends, laugh at their antics. Pay attention to the busyness of the birds, listen to their song. The coldest wind cannot dim their chorus, still their voices. Clear the mind. Meditate on the beauty of the sky's constant transformation. To be alone on such a day is good for the soul, and we all, believe it or not, need more time alone. The blahs of November? No. Oohs and ahhs are still in vogue walking Iten's Acres. You'll need a hooded sweatshirt or a fleece jacket, but the walk is lovely and serene and colorful even this time of year. Oh, and don't forget your binoculars.
If I get in an early morning walk, the reunited outlaw gang of Bonnie and Gus join me on my trek. You should see Bonnie in her winter coat! Gorgeous. Whenever I go walking, Gus always comes running no matter how far away he is, delighted to let me pet him. I'm sure he thinks that's why I go on my walks. How can you feel blah when you have such furry friends to accompany you on your walks? Impossible.
And though it's almost winter, the birds are active. Cedar waxwings devouring the crab apples. Robins, that I assume have come from farther North and are on their way to the South, love the dogwood and hawthorn berries, and they don't mind socializing with the waxwings in the crab apple trees. Snow birds scatter through the woods and wild areas as you approach displaying the subtle black and white "V" of their tail feathers. A hawk soaring above me screams out his presence to the world below--fearless. Yes, it sounds exactly like a scream. A flock of crows in the plowed farm land across County Road 25 are cawing away complaining about everything. The gold finch, faded but still beautiful--congregate around the bird baths for their daily drinks. The chickadees and titmice love the evergreen trees--traveling companions it seems, year around. Some birds that are not "regulars" on Iten's Acres show up this time of year. I guess they're just passing through looking for a place to spend the winter--pine siskins, evening grosbeak, for example. Cold weather doesn't decrease the bird activity, and with the trees barren they are actually easier to spot. Binoculars are as important as "layering" walking the Acres in mid-November.
There is always, of course, serenity in just being outside walking. The hands are in the pockets on some days, but the eyes can see much if one is willing to actually look at what's around them. The clouds, whipped by the winds, are incredible. Fluffy white on an azure blue canvas or slate gray shapes playing peek-a-boo with the sun--it's calming just to walk and watch them soar; or, to sit in my chair on the hill and take in the ever changing colors and shapes of the clouds. Eat your heart out Van Gogh! You can't match God's artistry.
The starkness of the leafless trees contrasted with the beauty of the evergreens--firs, pines, junipers--is lovely as well. The bark of the trees, hidden from spring to fall, are distinctive in their own right. Multi-colored, textured, the papery browns of the river birch, the scars on the deer munched willows, the gnarled bark of the ancient maple--all these are marvelous. I have a surge of empathy for the 'tree huggers" of the world.
Even on days when the chilling wind touches the bones, walking Iten's Acres is a joy--in the front, around the pond, through the trees, across the meadow, down the hill, through the paths in the wild area--yes, joyous. Walk slow. Enjoy the company of your furry friends, laugh at their antics. Pay attention to the busyness of the birds, listen to their song. The coldest wind cannot dim their chorus, still their voices. Clear the mind. Meditate on the beauty of the sky's constant transformation. To be alone on such a day is good for the soul, and we all, believe it or not, need more time alone. The blahs of November? No. Oohs and ahhs are still in vogue walking Iten's Acres. You'll need a hooded sweatshirt or a fleece jacket, but the walk is lovely and serene and colorful even this time of year. Oh, and don't forget your binoculars.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Chapter 10: The Five Beds
The Five Beds. They say, is it at Lookout Mountain, Tennessee?, that you can go to the top of the mountain, stand somewhere, and see, what is it--five, seven, fifty states? I can't remember the number (so much for the power of ads on billboards). A lot anyway. And isn't there a Four Corners out West--Utah, and three other states, I guess, (I'm a math genius) come together so that you can stand somewhere and see them all? When I taught in Bainbridge, Georgia, we lived just an hour from Alabama and an hour from Florida. In fact, we went to church in Alabama and shopped for groceries in Florida. (They didn't have a sales tax on food. I don't know if that's still true. It should be. The next amendment to the Constitution should make sales tax on groceries illegal.) In addition, one of my life's greatest highlights took place in Florida. The birth of my first born--Bradford Daniel Iten! Now, going to Alabama there was a time change. It was great getting to church in the morning. More sleep. Not so great coming back at night after church was over. I don't know if there is a place down there, a Three Corners; you know, someplace you could stand and see all three states: Georgia, Alabama, Florida.
But I have such a "historical" site on Iten Acres: Five Beds. You can stand at the bend in my driveway and be surrounded by five beds of flowers: The Super Iris Bed, The Redwhite Bed, The Spring Bed, The Bluepurple Bed, and the Shrub Bed. I reckon you can figure out what's in each of them.
The Super Iris Bed is one of the original beds on Iten's Acres. It has been re-done once and, quite frankly, is ready for another re-do. Of course, as you've figured out by now, just about every bed has some irises in it, but this bed is "stuffed" with iris. From mid-May until the first week in June there are one hundred or more iris blooms in this bed every day--a dozen or more colors. It's stunning. Visually and aromatically. And right next to the bed are three huge hibiscus and a glorious rose: deep red, white with a maroon eye (you can guess where they came from), and pink.
The Redwhite Bed is--you guessed it--filled with flowers that have either some shade of red, white, are a combination of both. It's just to the right of the hibiscus. At first there was just a pinkish Rose of Sharon here. And then I decided to expand the area and make a bed. I do that a lot. Anything I plant by itself should enjoy its independence while it can. A bed may very well be in its near future. It will be the star of the new bed, but it will have to learn to share the oohs and aahs. Actually, the idea behind the bed was to build a hummingbird/butterfly area--thus, all the reds. The ruby throats do love this bed, but I haven't noticed any particular butterfly population. I suppose the wild area out back has an even greater buffet to offer.
The Spring Bed is on the right side of the driveway, close to the mound/big maple area. As the name implies, it is magnificent in March and April: crocus, corydalis, daffodils, a dozen "clumps" of grape hyacinth, regular hyacinth, white grape hyacinth (We need a committee to make sense of flower names--WHITE grape hyacinth? Come on. They also come in pink and bi-color.), tulips, forget-me-nots (I love to remember them!). The bed is filled to overflowing with beauty: yellows, reds, blues, pinks, purples, whites, oranges--it's the star of spring on the Acres. Naturally, it has beauty all summer and fall too, but nothing like it shines in the spring. Just outside of this bed, by the way, is a lovely red rhododendron.
The Bluepurple Bed exists simply because blues and purples are my favorite colors. It abuts the Spring Bed. It has over thirty different kinds of blue and purple flowers--different shades, different shapes, different heights, different leaves--all contribute to the loveliness. Obviously, filled with my favorite colors, it's one of my favorite beds. Everything blooms in its time--some of the iris twice. The blues don't have to be sad. Even for someone born and reared in St. Louis.
The Shrub Bed is a little southwest of the last two beds--closer to the front of the property. It started when Mom gave me a dwarf conifer and a white rose bush. Those two became the centerpieces in this bed--the rose in the front, the conifer in the back. It has an oval shape, sort of. Between the rose and the conifer are two hibiscus, a weigala, a peony, a Rose of Sharon, a flowering almond, and an orange phlox. (Shhh, There are some flowers hiding among the shrubs. Well, the cosmos don't hide very well. They grow eight to ten feet tall. Showoffs!)
The Five Beds. There are no billboards or painted barn roofs to help you find it. There are no mountains to scale. No matter where you stand you'll only see one state--good old Ohio. But find your way to the bend in my driveway, turn slowly in any direction, and you'll be immersed in beauty any time of year. Stand real still for awhile from June to September and you can "visit" with the ruby throats. Relax. That loud buzz behind you is not a twenty pound bee.
The Five Beds flower progression. There's a lot! Hey, it's five beds worth.
March: crocus, corydalis, daffodils, glory of the snow.
April: hyacinth, tulips, creeping phlox, white, pink, and grape grape hyacinth, regular hyacinth, forget-me-not, campanula, flowering almond.
May: German iris, Dutch iris, honey garlic, mountain bells, allium, dwarf iris, spiderwort, columbine, gaura, false indigo, rhododendron, camassia, blue bells, Jacob's ladder, painted daisy (alyssum).
June: lily, bee balm, keys of heaven, meadow sweet, agatasche, stoke's aster, candle flower, peony, balloon flower, scabiosa, (petunia, salvia, larkspur, gladiola, morning glory, cosmos, marigold).
July: hibiscus, hollyhock, coneflower, rose, Rose of Sharon, butterfly bush, phlox, hydrangea, aster, love-in-the-midst.
August: cardinal.
September: sedum, monkshood.
October: delphinium, fall crocus, re-blooming iris.
PHEW! Made it.
But I have such a "historical" site on Iten Acres: Five Beds. You can stand at the bend in my driveway and be surrounded by five beds of flowers: The Super Iris Bed, The Redwhite Bed, The Spring Bed, The Bluepurple Bed, and the Shrub Bed. I reckon you can figure out what's in each of them.
The Super Iris Bed is one of the original beds on Iten's Acres. It has been re-done once and, quite frankly, is ready for another re-do. Of course, as you've figured out by now, just about every bed has some irises in it, but this bed is "stuffed" with iris. From mid-May until the first week in June there are one hundred or more iris blooms in this bed every day--a dozen or more colors. It's stunning. Visually and aromatically. And right next to the bed are three huge hibiscus and a glorious rose: deep red, white with a maroon eye (you can guess where they came from), and pink.
The Redwhite Bed is--you guessed it--filled with flowers that have either some shade of red, white, are a combination of both. It's just to the right of the hibiscus. At first there was just a pinkish Rose of Sharon here. And then I decided to expand the area and make a bed. I do that a lot. Anything I plant by itself should enjoy its independence while it can. A bed may very well be in its near future. It will be the star of the new bed, but it will have to learn to share the oohs and aahs. Actually, the idea behind the bed was to build a hummingbird/butterfly area--thus, all the reds. The ruby throats do love this bed, but I haven't noticed any particular butterfly population. I suppose the wild area out back has an even greater buffet to offer.
The Spring Bed is on the right side of the driveway, close to the mound/big maple area. As the name implies, it is magnificent in March and April: crocus, corydalis, daffodils, a dozen "clumps" of grape hyacinth, regular hyacinth, white grape hyacinth (We need a committee to make sense of flower names--WHITE grape hyacinth? Come on. They also come in pink and bi-color.), tulips, forget-me-nots (I love to remember them!). The bed is filled to overflowing with beauty: yellows, reds, blues, pinks, purples, whites, oranges--it's the star of spring on the Acres. Naturally, it has beauty all summer and fall too, but nothing like it shines in the spring. Just outside of this bed, by the way, is a lovely red rhododendron.
The Bluepurple Bed exists simply because blues and purples are my favorite colors. It abuts the Spring Bed. It has over thirty different kinds of blue and purple flowers--different shades, different shapes, different heights, different leaves--all contribute to the loveliness. Obviously, filled with my favorite colors, it's one of my favorite beds. Everything blooms in its time--some of the iris twice. The blues don't have to be sad. Even for someone born and reared in St. Louis.
The Shrub Bed is a little southwest of the last two beds--closer to the front of the property. It started when Mom gave me a dwarf conifer and a white rose bush. Those two became the centerpieces in this bed--the rose in the front, the conifer in the back. It has an oval shape, sort of. Between the rose and the conifer are two hibiscus, a weigala, a peony, a Rose of Sharon, a flowering almond, and an orange phlox. (Shhh, There are some flowers hiding among the shrubs. Well, the cosmos don't hide very well. They grow eight to ten feet tall. Showoffs!)
The Five Beds. There are no billboards or painted barn roofs to help you find it. There are no mountains to scale. No matter where you stand you'll only see one state--good old Ohio. But find your way to the bend in my driveway, turn slowly in any direction, and you'll be immersed in beauty any time of year. Stand real still for awhile from June to September and you can "visit" with the ruby throats. Relax. That loud buzz behind you is not a twenty pound bee.
The Five Beds flower progression. There's a lot! Hey, it's five beds worth.
March: crocus, corydalis, daffodils, glory of the snow.
April: hyacinth, tulips, creeping phlox, white, pink, and grape grape hyacinth, regular hyacinth, forget-me-not, campanula, flowering almond.
May: German iris, Dutch iris, honey garlic, mountain bells, allium, dwarf iris, spiderwort, columbine, gaura, false indigo, rhododendron, camassia, blue bells, Jacob's ladder, painted daisy (alyssum).
June: lily, bee balm, keys of heaven, meadow sweet, agatasche, stoke's aster, candle flower, peony, balloon flower, scabiosa, (petunia, salvia, larkspur, gladiola, morning glory, cosmos, marigold).
July: hibiscus, hollyhock, coneflower, rose, Rose of Sharon, butterfly bush, phlox, hydrangea, aster, love-in-the-midst.
August: cardinal.
September: sedum, monkshood.
October: delphinium, fall crocus, re-blooming iris.
PHEW! Made it.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Chapter 9: The Pine Tree Zone
There are several pine trees on Iten's Acres. The purpose of pine trees is to give winter's snows a place to show off. They also provide good shelter for the birds--a port to ride out the storms. And anytime of the year they can nestle among the needles, sing loudly, and be invisible. Yes, there are lots of pine trees on Iten's Acres, and then, there is THE PINE TREE. THE PINE TREE sits near the front of the property. It is monstrous--sixty to seventy feet high I would imagine, covered with deep scarlet pine cones from spring to summer, so wide that standing on one side you can't see what's on the other, and you should see it after a snow. Without any "decorations" it has a singular beauty all its own.
But could I leave the area alone untouched by Iten hands? Of course not. Originally, I just did a few simple things to enrich the area. I put daffodils in front of the tree facing County Road 25. (I love the name of my road. It sounds agrarian.) I, also, put a weeping willow a tad to the southwest, and an iris bed hidden on the western side of the tree invisible to anyone coming down the driveway; you'll have to walk Iten's Acres to see it. And I added a red rose, a small juniper, and a wooden planter with a daylily in it right next to the iris bed. The daffodils--all yellow--bloomed the very first spring and have been multiplying every year as good daffodils should. The iris bed blooms every year, a dozen or so colors. The weeping willow is growing despite a deer luncheon. The juniper has tripled in size since I first planted it. The red rose and the lily--orange--are beautiful. A walk around the pine tree is brief, but worth the surprises.
One would think that a normal chubby old bald guy would be satisfied with Phase One. Come on, you know me better than that. Phase Two of THE PINE TREE zone improvement society program (does one person make a society?) was uncomplicated: another bed on the driveway side of THE PINE for those too lazy to get out and walk, and an expanded bed on the hidden side of the tree that included the rose and the planter. Bed Two--the one facing the driveway was originally an iris bed (imagine that--again). I did put two dark red daylilies in there, a few white daffodils, and a white hibiscus with a maroon "eye." In addition, I put a pink rose right next to the bed. Bed Four--the one surrounding the rose and lily planter--I filled with a hodge podge of different flowers of all shapes and colors.
The hibiscus in Bed Two, however, has taken over. I should name it the Hibiscus Bed. There, consider it done. (You have just experienced a historical moment!) This year there were over half-a-dozen hibiscus that bloomed in this bed, and that was after I dug up and transplanted another half-a-dozen or so. Anyone need some hibiscus for their yard? Drop by next June. The lilies don't seem to mind the take-over attempt so I've added a couple more to the mix. For the iris, though, it has been a different story--and a sad one (if you have the right flower priorities). Three springs ago, tons of gorgeous blooms. The next spring, not so many. Last spring, barely any. (Fight back those tears.) As a result of this growing tragedy, this fall I dug up most of the iris in this bed and transplanted them elsewhere. Now, I will have to wait a couple of springs to see if they like their new homes. Meanwhile, I'm sure the hibiscus and the lilies are gloating. Good thing they're beautiful in their own right.
Bed Four--the rose/lily planter bed--has done well. I wasn't too sure because with the size of THE PINE TREE it's in shade all morning long. It does have a sunny afternoon and that appears to be enough. As I've mentioned it's eclectic--a little bit of everything from March to frost, including by the way a myriad of yellow cosmos I got from my sister Chloe. Whoever heard of yellow cosmos? (Until now, of course.)
Was the improvement society satisfied? Content at last? Nope. Phase Three started modestly enough. I just expanded that first iris bed I mentioned. Shall we be creative and call it Bed Three? Added a few more iris! And some other things. Actually, the enlarging led to a wonderful historical surprise: a flower-of-an-hour sprung up in the expansion and has been blooming every year since--wild, Ohioan, and beautiful: the first and, so far, only of its kind on the Acres. God wanted to add His touch to the area I suppose and assigned one of the Gardening Angels to do a little planting for my pleasure.
But, ahhh, that was not the end of Phase Three. One day my imagination got the best of me. One fine day (all the days at Iten's Acres are fine days by the way) as I was creeping down the driveway taking in the beauty everywhere that I could see, it dawned on me--in the middle of the afternoon no less--that you couldn't see what was on the northern side of THE PINE TREE until you were perpendicular to it on the driveway. An idea began to ricochet around my brain: what if I put a collection--an arbor--of flowering trees and shrubs in that area so that the visitors to the Acres would suddenly be surprised by a beautiful burst of color that he or she couldn't see from Country Road 25 but couldn't miss seeing when they drove past THE PINE TREE? Tuh-duh! The idea took up residence in my consciousness, and the arbor has begun to take shape. I will be Home before it has grown up enough to match my vision, but the "portrait" has begun to materialize. I like being a flower artist (and deeply admire those who are real artists). Here's what is in the Surprise Arbor so far: two redbuds, a crab apple, a dogwood, a hawthorn, an elderberry, a Rose of Sharon, a hibiscus, a golden barberry, and a small iris bed with a burgundy rose. They are all doing splendidly for little tykes. I hope to add another more mature redbud, a couple of mature weeping cherries, a flowering almond, and a more mature red crab apple in the near future to give the arbor a jump start as I wait for the other beauties to mature. The rose has already bloomed. If the Lord graciously gives me five more years to complete my three score and ten, I should see the redbuds, elderberry, Rose of Sharon, hibiscus, and flowering almond all bloom. Just thinking about it, stirs my soul. If you come by the Acres and see me pulling part way up my driveway, backing up, and doing that over and over again, please don't think me crazy. I like surprises! And whoever comes after me is going to have a lovely surprise arbor to burst into view when his or her visitors drop by and drive slowly by THE PINE TREE. Color splash indeed!
I'm sure THE PINE TREE has already outlived the genius who planted it. I'm sure it will outlive me. But it will spend its days surrounded by beauty to compliment its own. I should put a bench here in the middle of the arbor so that when I get tired of walking around THE PINE TREE zone and surprising myself with the loveliness that is hiding around "every turn," I can sit and rest awhile. And surprise my visitors as they come creeping down my driveway.
Flower progressions for THE PINE TREE zone--not counting the year around greenness, the spring and summer scarlet cones, and, naturally, the snow covered branches of winter:
March: crocus
April: tulips, grape hyacinth, hyacinth, daffodils
May: dwarf iris, German iris, Dutch iris, bluebells, coral bells, lavender mountain lilies, allium, honey garlic
June: lilies, foxglove, roses, bee balm (snapdragon, dahlia)
July: coneflowers, hollyhocks, hibiscus, balloon flowers, (cosmos, gladiolas, morning glory, larkspur)
August: flower-of-an-hour
September: monkshood, re-blooming iris, red aster
November: mums, fall crocus, topaz fall daffodils
Walking tours are free--with or without a guide.
But could I leave the area alone untouched by Iten hands? Of course not. Originally, I just did a few simple things to enrich the area. I put daffodils in front of the tree facing County Road 25. (I love the name of my road. It sounds agrarian.) I, also, put a weeping willow a tad to the southwest, and an iris bed hidden on the western side of the tree invisible to anyone coming down the driveway; you'll have to walk Iten's Acres to see it. And I added a red rose, a small juniper, and a wooden planter with a daylily in it right next to the iris bed. The daffodils--all yellow--bloomed the very first spring and have been multiplying every year as good daffodils should. The iris bed blooms every year, a dozen or so colors. The weeping willow is growing despite a deer luncheon. The juniper has tripled in size since I first planted it. The red rose and the lily--orange--are beautiful. A walk around the pine tree is brief, but worth the surprises.
One would think that a normal chubby old bald guy would be satisfied with Phase One. Come on, you know me better than that. Phase Two of THE PINE TREE zone improvement society program (does one person make a society?) was uncomplicated: another bed on the driveway side of THE PINE for those too lazy to get out and walk, and an expanded bed on the hidden side of the tree that included the rose and the planter. Bed Two--the one facing the driveway was originally an iris bed (imagine that--again). I did put two dark red daylilies in there, a few white daffodils, and a white hibiscus with a maroon "eye." In addition, I put a pink rose right next to the bed. Bed Four--the one surrounding the rose and lily planter--I filled with a hodge podge of different flowers of all shapes and colors.
The hibiscus in Bed Two, however, has taken over. I should name it the Hibiscus Bed. There, consider it done. (You have just experienced a historical moment!) This year there were over half-a-dozen hibiscus that bloomed in this bed, and that was after I dug up and transplanted another half-a-dozen or so. Anyone need some hibiscus for their yard? Drop by next June. The lilies don't seem to mind the take-over attempt so I've added a couple more to the mix. For the iris, though, it has been a different story--and a sad one (if you have the right flower priorities). Three springs ago, tons of gorgeous blooms. The next spring, not so many. Last spring, barely any. (Fight back those tears.) As a result of this growing tragedy, this fall I dug up most of the iris in this bed and transplanted them elsewhere. Now, I will have to wait a couple of springs to see if they like their new homes. Meanwhile, I'm sure the hibiscus and the lilies are gloating. Good thing they're beautiful in their own right.
Bed Four--the rose/lily planter bed--has done well. I wasn't too sure because with the size of THE PINE TREE it's in shade all morning long. It does have a sunny afternoon and that appears to be enough. As I've mentioned it's eclectic--a little bit of everything from March to frost, including by the way a myriad of yellow cosmos I got from my sister Chloe. Whoever heard of yellow cosmos? (Until now, of course.)
Was the improvement society satisfied? Content at last? Nope. Phase Three started modestly enough. I just expanded that first iris bed I mentioned. Shall we be creative and call it Bed Three? Added a few more iris! And some other things. Actually, the enlarging led to a wonderful historical surprise: a flower-of-an-hour sprung up in the expansion and has been blooming every year since--wild, Ohioan, and beautiful: the first and, so far, only of its kind on the Acres. God wanted to add His touch to the area I suppose and assigned one of the Gardening Angels to do a little planting for my pleasure.
But, ahhh, that was not the end of Phase Three. One day my imagination got the best of me. One fine day (all the days at Iten's Acres are fine days by the way) as I was creeping down the driveway taking in the beauty everywhere that I could see, it dawned on me--in the middle of the afternoon no less--that you couldn't see what was on the northern side of THE PINE TREE until you were perpendicular to it on the driveway. An idea began to ricochet around my brain: what if I put a collection--an arbor--of flowering trees and shrubs in that area so that the visitors to the Acres would suddenly be surprised by a beautiful burst of color that he or she couldn't see from Country Road 25 but couldn't miss seeing when they drove past THE PINE TREE? Tuh-duh! The idea took up residence in my consciousness, and the arbor has begun to take shape. I will be Home before it has grown up enough to match my vision, but the "portrait" has begun to materialize. I like being a flower artist (and deeply admire those who are real artists). Here's what is in the Surprise Arbor so far: two redbuds, a crab apple, a dogwood, a hawthorn, an elderberry, a Rose of Sharon, a hibiscus, a golden barberry, and a small iris bed with a burgundy rose. They are all doing splendidly for little tykes. I hope to add another more mature redbud, a couple of mature weeping cherries, a flowering almond, and a more mature red crab apple in the near future to give the arbor a jump start as I wait for the other beauties to mature. The rose has already bloomed. If the Lord graciously gives me five more years to complete my three score and ten, I should see the redbuds, elderberry, Rose of Sharon, hibiscus, and flowering almond all bloom. Just thinking about it, stirs my soul. If you come by the Acres and see me pulling part way up my driveway, backing up, and doing that over and over again, please don't think me crazy. I like surprises! And whoever comes after me is going to have a lovely surprise arbor to burst into view when his or her visitors drop by and drive slowly by THE PINE TREE. Color splash indeed!
I'm sure THE PINE TREE has already outlived the genius who planted it. I'm sure it will outlive me. But it will spend its days surrounded by beauty to compliment its own. I should put a bench here in the middle of the arbor so that when I get tired of walking around THE PINE TREE zone and surprising myself with the loveliness that is hiding around "every turn," I can sit and rest awhile. And surprise my visitors as they come creeping down my driveway.
Flower progressions for THE PINE TREE zone--not counting the year around greenness, the spring and summer scarlet cones, and, naturally, the snow covered branches of winter:
March: crocus
April: tulips, grape hyacinth, hyacinth, daffodils
May: dwarf iris, German iris, Dutch iris, bluebells, coral bells, lavender mountain lilies, allium, honey garlic
June: lilies, foxglove, roses, bee balm (snapdragon, dahlia)
July: coneflowers, hollyhocks, hibiscus, balloon flowers, (cosmos, gladiolas, morning glory, larkspur)
August: flower-of-an-hour
September: monkshood, re-blooming iris, red aster
November: mums, fall crocus, topaz fall daffodils
Walking tours are free--with or without a guide.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Chapter 8: The Morning Glory Bed
When I told my realtor that I wanted a home with at least five acres, and that I was willing to go up to an hour away from school, I think he thought I was insane. Well, I have not yet come to my senses. I didn't mind the drive--it was mostly freeway--though when the gas prices skyrocketed, it did get a little expensive. The distance was a first step toward the Lord moving me out of Worthington Christian. And the house was a perfect place for taking care of my mom. And Morrow County Hospice has been incredible in helping me take care of her, and she has been a great witness and encourager to them as well. Honestly, she has done more for them then they have done for her. They wonderfully meet her physical needs. She wonderfully touches their hearts spiritually. Don't believe the lie that as you grow older, God can't use you anymore. Did I imagine or foresee any of this when I began looking for my first house at the ripe old age of fifty-nine? Nope. I didn't have an inkling of what God was up to in my life and in the life of my mom. But His plan was perfect--again. Imagine that.
I, of course, wanted all the land for flowers and shrubs and flowering trees and "regular" trees and all that stuff. I've always been a lover of flowers and plants. It's a family disease. But it was rather difficult to do much in an apartment. Sure, I had plants in every window, in front of any and all sliding glass doors, and lots of planters on any deck or patio. Now, however, I had an opportunity to actually have real flower beds with real flowers--lots of flower beds with lots of flowers. And the Acres were perfect for a myriad of flower and shrub types: sunny meadows, shady areas, a small section of woods, a pond and boggy wet area, and a huge meadow to just let grow wild. The Lord couldn't have given me a better "Eden," though this one comes with weeds. (Some weeds, by the way, are gorgeous.)
So when I arrived at Iten's Acres six years ago this August, the pressing "problem" was where to put the first flower beds. Naturally, one area I chose was at the front of the property, next to the driveway, and in full sun for the star attraction--Iris, of course. Mom had given me a ton of them from her gardens in South Carolina. I had no idea what color they were, but what did that matter? An iris is an iris. The royalty of flowers.
Most of my beds are constructed in the same way. Using bricks or wood, I form an "outline" for the bed. Then, newspapers are put down to retard the growth of weeds and grass. Next, the top soil is put on top of the newspapers. Finally, the flowers. Now, I admit that because I'm a "no mulcher," every three years or so I have to re-do most beds because of the weeds and grass, but there is something therapeutic about manual labor, and manual labor outside is exhilarating. Isn't feeling tired after a day of hard work outside actually restful?
In my years here, many a bed has gone through transformation. Thus, it was with this bed: Bed One--The Morning Glory Bed. Originally, it was built behind a large stone that is on the Acres. It was way too heavy to even think about moving. In addition, originally the bed was shaped like a huge triangle. And as mentioned, it was primarily an iris bed. There were a couple of daylilies--a double orange was actually outside the bed in front of the stone--and a second daylily was in a large wooden planter placed right in the front of the bed. A couple of phlox were planted in the middle of the iris. Since then, it has been expanded to include the stone in the bed itself and a couple of feet were added to the back of the bed. And it is no longer a triangle but a square of sorts. The phlox were moved up to the house as well. Much too tempting to the deer.
The first spring, not one iris bloomed. Nary a one. They were all lush and green, but no blooms. Horrors! (Thus was established the theory that iris like a year to just move in and get comfortable before they bloom.) The second year they all bloomed. Gorgeous! Breathtaking! Marvelous! Stunning! Exhilarating!--you get the idea. At this moment, I assume, you are wondering why I call this bed The Morning Glory Bed and not The Iris Bed, especially considering my "bias" toward irises. (Is it bias if it's true?) Well, three years ago I planted some morning glory seeds in this bed. Wow! Have they taken off! I do have morning glories in most of the other beds and in many other places, but in this bed they have flourished. From mid-June to frost, this bed--the entire bed--is a sea of morning glories, seven or eight different colors. (See the adjectives above for a description.) Fortunately they come up and start blooming after the irises and other spring flowers have done their blooming--crocus, daffodils, grape hyacinth, tulips, and so on. So when those beauties "disappear" under the "waves" it's no problem. There is some competition for the morning glories, but they are all taller plants: the daylilies, oriental lilies, bee balm, hollyhock, cosmos, gladiolas, and tall snapdragons. These all rise above the glories and actually enhance their beauty by giving the morning glories flowers they can climb. Turn into Iten's Acres in April and May--beautiful iris, daffodils, grape hyacinth, tulips will meet your gaze. Turn into the Acres in mid-summer, and you will be greeted by an ocean of morning glories "interspersed" with their taller cousins. And guess where I get most of the morning glory seeds that I use to spread their beauty elsewhere in the Acres?
The Yearly Progression of Beauty in The Morning Glory Bed: (The months mentioned are when the flowers START blooming. The parentheses indicate annuals that are added in May and bloom until frost or in the case of snapdragons and larkspur--beyond frost.)
March: crocus
April: grape hyacinth, daffodils, tulips
May: dwarf iris, German iris, mountain bells, allium, lavender mountain lilies (portulaca, salvia, snapdragon, dusty miller. I've had a difficult time finding a place to put my portulaca. I love them, but the creatures love them too. Thankfully, they do well here and have not been found by the hungry beasts.)
June: Dutch iris, bee balm, love-in-the-midst, lilies, morning glories
July: Hollyhock (larkspur, cosmos, gladiolas)
November: re-blooming iris
Feel free to schedule your visit/visits according to the flowers you love best. (If that's not the iris, I'll add you to my prayer list.) Small bouquets of cut flowers are permitted. Bring your own vase. Come every month. Just let it slip out that iris are BY FAR your favorites.
I, of course, wanted all the land for flowers and shrubs and flowering trees and "regular" trees and all that stuff. I've always been a lover of flowers and plants. It's a family disease. But it was rather difficult to do much in an apartment. Sure, I had plants in every window, in front of any and all sliding glass doors, and lots of planters on any deck or patio. Now, however, I had an opportunity to actually have real flower beds with real flowers--lots of flower beds with lots of flowers. And the Acres were perfect for a myriad of flower and shrub types: sunny meadows, shady areas, a small section of woods, a pond and boggy wet area, and a huge meadow to just let grow wild. The Lord couldn't have given me a better "Eden," though this one comes with weeds. (Some weeds, by the way, are gorgeous.)
So when I arrived at Iten's Acres six years ago this August, the pressing "problem" was where to put the first flower beds. Naturally, one area I chose was at the front of the property, next to the driveway, and in full sun for the star attraction--Iris, of course. Mom had given me a ton of them from her gardens in South Carolina. I had no idea what color they were, but what did that matter? An iris is an iris. The royalty of flowers.
Most of my beds are constructed in the same way. Using bricks or wood, I form an "outline" for the bed. Then, newspapers are put down to retard the growth of weeds and grass. Next, the top soil is put on top of the newspapers. Finally, the flowers. Now, I admit that because I'm a "no mulcher," every three years or so I have to re-do most beds because of the weeds and grass, but there is something therapeutic about manual labor, and manual labor outside is exhilarating. Isn't feeling tired after a day of hard work outside actually restful?
In my years here, many a bed has gone through transformation. Thus, it was with this bed: Bed One--The Morning Glory Bed. Originally, it was built behind a large stone that is on the Acres. It was way too heavy to even think about moving. In addition, originally the bed was shaped like a huge triangle. And as mentioned, it was primarily an iris bed. There were a couple of daylilies--a double orange was actually outside the bed in front of the stone--and a second daylily was in a large wooden planter placed right in the front of the bed. A couple of phlox were planted in the middle of the iris. Since then, it has been expanded to include the stone in the bed itself and a couple of feet were added to the back of the bed. And it is no longer a triangle but a square of sorts. The phlox were moved up to the house as well. Much too tempting to the deer.
The first spring, not one iris bloomed. Nary a one. They were all lush and green, but no blooms. Horrors! (Thus was established the theory that iris like a year to just move in and get comfortable before they bloom.) The second year they all bloomed. Gorgeous! Breathtaking! Marvelous! Stunning! Exhilarating!--you get the idea. At this moment, I assume, you are wondering why I call this bed The Morning Glory Bed and not The Iris Bed, especially considering my "bias" toward irises. (Is it bias if it's true?) Well, three years ago I planted some morning glory seeds in this bed. Wow! Have they taken off! I do have morning glories in most of the other beds and in many other places, but in this bed they have flourished. From mid-June to frost, this bed--the entire bed--is a sea of morning glories, seven or eight different colors. (See the adjectives above for a description.) Fortunately they come up and start blooming after the irises and other spring flowers have done their blooming--crocus, daffodils, grape hyacinth, tulips, and so on. So when those beauties "disappear" under the "waves" it's no problem. There is some competition for the morning glories, but they are all taller plants: the daylilies, oriental lilies, bee balm, hollyhock, cosmos, gladiolas, and tall snapdragons. These all rise above the glories and actually enhance their beauty by giving the morning glories flowers they can climb. Turn into Iten's Acres in April and May--beautiful iris, daffodils, grape hyacinth, tulips will meet your gaze. Turn into the Acres in mid-summer, and you will be greeted by an ocean of morning glories "interspersed" with their taller cousins. And guess where I get most of the morning glory seeds that I use to spread their beauty elsewhere in the Acres?
The Yearly Progression of Beauty in The Morning Glory Bed: (The months mentioned are when the flowers START blooming. The parentheses indicate annuals that are added in May and bloom until frost or in the case of snapdragons and larkspur--beyond frost.)
March: crocus
April: grape hyacinth, daffodils, tulips
May: dwarf iris, German iris, mountain bells, allium, lavender mountain lilies (portulaca, salvia, snapdragon, dusty miller. I've had a difficult time finding a place to put my portulaca. I love them, but the creatures love them too. Thankfully, they do well here and have not been found by the hungry beasts.)
June: Dutch iris, bee balm, love-in-the-midst, lilies, morning glories
July: Hollyhock (larkspur, cosmos, gladiolas)
November: re-blooming iris
Feel free to schedule your visit/visits according to the flowers you love best. (If that's not the iris, I'll add you to my prayer list.) Small bouquets of cut flowers are permitted. Bring your own vase. Come every month. Just let it slip out that iris are BY FAR your favorites.
Friday, November 4, 2011
The Winds of Change
"Calm" is a word rarely applicable to my walks at Iten's Acres. It is always windy, or so it seems. That's not a negative. On the hottest days of summer, breeze is good! Wind always makes the wild area shimmer regardless of the colors on display. What would fall be like without the leaves dancing in the wind? (Or being blown away by the wind so that I don't have to rake them!) And even in winter the wind enhances the beauty of the snowfall--whirling flakes, drifting snow banks, and even the "roar" it makes in the tops of the trees. The wind is always welcome at Iten's Acres.
Even the "winds of change." Some of the change this year has been man-made--chubby old bald guy made. Two of the old flower beds have been expanded--one by the pond and one in an old horseshoe pit up by the house. Bigger beds. More flowers. Sounds good to me! Six new small iris beds have been scattered about on the property as well. Small beds mean less weeding. And you can never have enough iris. Of course, several flowering shrubs and trees have been "sprinkled" here and there on the Acres as well. And new bulbs have been added to each of the old beds. I, also, believe it or not, removed a lot of iris from one bed and replanted them elsewhere. They just weren't doing well where they were, so I moved them to sunnier locations. These changes were all planned and executed for the purpose of the beautification of Iten Acres.
Some of the change was done by God's gardening angels assigned to my place. Bluish purple seemed to be one of the colors in play for 2011. The "angels" planted a glorious smooth ruella in the flower bed up by the house, the one Mom can see from her "windows." I didn't know what it was when it first started coming up and was tempted to pull it up as a weed. But I have learned to let "unknown" things grow and mature before taking any drastic action. Acting out of ignorance is not exactly a wise choice. And indeed, the wisdom of waiting was wise in this case. The ruella is a stunning bluish purple trumpet-like flower growing three feet tall or so. I pray that it has found a home in the bed and feels so welcome that it spreads everywhere. In a bed adorned with fifty or so blue balloon flowers that bloom throughout the summer, it fits right in. Good color coordination job "angels." Wild flowers are always welcome even in "tame" flower beds. Oh, and for good measure, they added some bluish spiderwort in a couple of places in the wild area. Lovely flowers. The "angel" in charge of the blues was active this summer at Iten's Acres!
The yellow gardening angels were even busier this year in the change department. Yellow poppies came up by the dozens in the wild area on the hillside. Some dark yellow primrose came up for the first time in the middle of the wild area. There was a new yellow flower in the bog--kind of a dreary mustard yellow. (I'm not complaining "angels." Name tags would be nice though.) And the yellow highlight of the year was a patch of prairie coneflowers near the back of the wildness. I was delighted to read: "Large colonies of prairie coneflowers often turn fields into a sea of yellow." "Large," "colonies," "often," and "sea of yellow" are lovely expressions, don't you think?
The last change by the "angels" was in the bog area. The "winds of change" are particularly welcome here since man-made attempts to beautify this area have been a struggle. Here the "angels" planted a "sea of monkey grass." It doesn't, in my opinion, look anything at all like a monkey in shape or color. But you can call it anything you wish as long as it keeps spreading and making the bog area more beautiful. Sometimes change is completely out of our control. That doesn't mean that it's a bad thing. How can bluish purples and "seas of yellows" and "seas of monkey grass" possibly be a bad thing? Yep, you can keep the change.
The third winds of change are a mystery; in fact, they have resulted in a change back to the days of yore. Well, okay, back to 2010. If you've been reading this blog, you know that the outlaw gang of Bonnie and Gus was somewhat separated by the arrival of a third party to the doggie scene--Stella the black lab wonder dog. I enjoyed my walks with Stella but missed my treks with the old gang. Old habits are comfortable. Curiously, though, Stella vanished. I have no idea what happened to her, and I haven't been able to talk to Aaron and see what happened. (Perhaps I'm afraid that the answer to the mystery will be too sad.) The aftermath, though, of her disappearance has been the beginning of a revival of the outlaw gang of Bonnie and Gus. We're not entirely back to the "good old days," but we're getting there. The path between Bonnie's house and Gus's that runs through my property is getting worn again--well-traveled. I encounter Bonnie and Gus together much more often when I take my walks and work in my yard. (Can you call five-and-a-half acres a yard?) Soon I hope to re-institute my daily meanderings with the gang.
Sometimes we bring about change in our lives by our own choices. Sometimes it's a complete surprise--catches us off guard. Sometimes "friends and acquaintances" enter our life or leave it. Adjustments must be made. We miss those who are gone--and that's a good thing. Dare I say great thing. We cherish those who are still here perhaps with a deeper appreciation and heart of gratitude. The winds of change are always blowing. There are not many moments of calm. But embracing the beauty and the positives of change can bring serenity--even in the strongest winds.
Even the "winds of change." Some of the change this year has been man-made--chubby old bald guy made. Two of the old flower beds have been expanded--one by the pond and one in an old horseshoe pit up by the house. Bigger beds. More flowers. Sounds good to me! Six new small iris beds have been scattered about on the property as well. Small beds mean less weeding. And you can never have enough iris. Of course, several flowering shrubs and trees have been "sprinkled" here and there on the Acres as well. And new bulbs have been added to each of the old beds. I, also, believe it or not, removed a lot of iris from one bed and replanted them elsewhere. They just weren't doing well where they were, so I moved them to sunnier locations. These changes were all planned and executed for the purpose of the beautification of Iten Acres.
Some of the change was done by God's gardening angels assigned to my place. Bluish purple seemed to be one of the colors in play for 2011. The "angels" planted a glorious smooth ruella in the flower bed up by the house, the one Mom can see from her "windows." I didn't know what it was when it first started coming up and was tempted to pull it up as a weed. But I have learned to let "unknown" things grow and mature before taking any drastic action. Acting out of ignorance is not exactly a wise choice. And indeed, the wisdom of waiting was wise in this case. The ruella is a stunning bluish purple trumpet-like flower growing three feet tall or so. I pray that it has found a home in the bed and feels so welcome that it spreads everywhere. In a bed adorned with fifty or so blue balloon flowers that bloom throughout the summer, it fits right in. Good color coordination job "angels." Wild flowers are always welcome even in "tame" flower beds. Oh, and for good measure, they added some bluish spiderwort in a couple of places in the wild area. Lovely flowers. The "angel" in charge of the blues was active this summer at Iten's Acres!
The yellow gardening angels were even busier this year in the change department. Yellow poppies came up by the dozens in the wild area on the hillside. Some dark yellow primrose came up for the first time in the middle of the wild area. There was a new yellow flower in the bog--kind of a dreary mustard yellow. (I'm not complaining "angels." Name tags would be nice though.) And the yellow highlight of the year was a patch of prairie coneflowers near the back of the wildness. I was delighted to read: "Large colonies of prairie coneflowers often turn fields into a sea of yellow." "Large," "colonies," "often," and "sea of yellow" are lovely expressions, don't you think?
The last change by the "angels" was in the bog area. The "winds of change" are particularly welcome here since man-made attempts to beautify this area have been a struggle. Here the "angels" planted a "sea of monkey grass." It doesn't, in my opinion, look anything at all like a monkey in shape or color. But you can call it anything you wish as long as it keeps spreading and making the bog area more beautiful. Sometimes change is completely out of our control. That doesn't mean that it's a bad thing. How can bluish purples and "seas of yellows" and "seas of monkey grass" possibly be a bad thing? Yep, you can keep the change.
The third winds of change are a mystery; in fact, they have resulted in a change back to the days of yore. Well, okay, back to 2010. If you've been reading this blog, you know that the outlaw gang of Bonnie and Gus was somewhat separated by the arrival of a third party to the doggie scene--Stella the black lab wonder dog. I enjoyed my walks with Stella but missed my treks with the old gang. Old habits are comfortable. Curiously, though, Stella vanished. I have no idea what happened to her, and I haven't been able to talk to Aaron and see what happened. (Perhaps I'm afraid that the answer to the mystery will be too sad.) The aftermath, though, of her disappearance has been the beginning of a revival of the outlaw gang of Bonnie and Gus. We're not entirely back to the "good old days," but we're getting there. The path between Bonnie's house and Gus's that runs through my property is getting worn again--well-traveled. I encounter Bonnie and Gus together much more often when I take my walks and work in my yard. (Can you call five-and-a-half acres a yard?) Soon I hope to re-institute my daily meanderings with the gang.
Sometimes we bring about change in our lives by our own choices. Sometimes it's a complete surprise--catches us off guard. Sometimes "friends and acquaintances" enter our life or leave it. Adjustments must be made. We miss those who are gone--and that's a good thing. Dare I say great thing. We cherish those who are still here perhaps with a deeper appreciation and heart of gratitude. The winds of change are always blowing. There are not many moments of calm. But embracing the beauty and the positives of change can bring serenity--even in the strongest winds.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Can You Dig It?
One of the great things about fall at Iten's Acres is digging holes to plant some new stuff for next year, moving some plants to different places because they weren't doing so well where they were, and mulching some of the flowering trees and shrubs to help them keep warm this winter. The air is cool and crisp, visions of 2012 are dancing in my head, and Bonnie and Gus are faithful "helpers." I feel like a male "bag lady" hauling my "treasures" in bags of top soil, bags of bulbs, bags of dark mulch.
I walk Iten's Acres all afternoon, sun or drizzle, retracing my steps, putting down newspaper and mulch, digging holes and putting in the bulbs. If I was organized, I would walk a lot less, but what fun would that be? The bulbs--and a few actual plants--come in these little bags that tell you what they are, how deep to plant them, and what amount of sunlight they prefer. Crocus in one bag; daffodils in another bag; lilies in another bag; hyacinths in another bag--you get the picture. Now, some beds will get say, crocus and daffodils; some beds will get crocus and hyacinth; some will get tulips and daffodils, etc. If I was organized I would get my own little bags, sort out the bulbs, and put everything that's going into one bed in its own bag. That way I would only have to take one trip to each bed, plant the bulbs, and be finished much earlier. I would save much time and shoe mileage. No thanks. I love to be outside. Why would I want the time to go quickly?
Now, I confess, the mulching is more organized. I start out front, move to the area around the house next, and then mulch the stuff out back in the meadow. I don't mulch the beds yet. It inhibits some of the flowers from spreading through the dispersion of their seeds: the cosmos, larkspur, balloon flowers, phlox, for example. I'd rather have those flowers come back every year and come back in greater numbers than mulch the beds. Yes, that means I have more weeds and grass in my beds. Ahhh, well. That's just one of the hazards of going wild. (I wish some horticulturist genius would invent something that would kill weeds and grass and not harm the flowers.)
How do I decide what goes where? A couple beds are color coded. One is all blues and purples. One is all reds and whites. Another factor is sunlight. Some flowers need lots of sun, some like partial shade, some like all shade. (God covers all the bases. Beauty everywhere!) Another factor is the calendar. I want blooms in each bed from April to frost. The last factor, and I think I've reached it or am getting tragically close, is saturation. How many flowers can one bed hold? Sadly, not nearly enough for a flower addict like myself. No, I'm not looking for a cure. New beds anyone?
My helpers, Bonnie and Gus, are indispensable. They think ricocheting from place to place and back again is great fun. They "hound " me, chase each other, and, on rare occasions, just sit and watch me work. Sometimes, naturally, they sit right in the middle of the bed I'm trying to plant. And, naturally, they think that my trying to get them to move is just another game worth playing. Gus likes to "dance" on his hind legs like the pigs in Animal Farm, but he's as close to brain dead as an animal can be. Great fun, gentle, cute as can be, brain dead. Bonnie is brilliant except that she has one eccentric behavior. When I'm not giving her enough attention, and she wants to be petted, she growls at me. Hey, it works. Gus, by the way, specializes in fertilizing. On top of the new mulch is his favorite doggy "litter box."
So, the fall walking of Iten's Acres is for the beauty of 2012, the extra time outdoors for the old man, and for "going to the dogs." Got a small spade? Don't be afraid to dig in.
I walk Iten's Acres all afternoon, sun or drizzle, retracing my steps, putting down newspaper and mulch, digging holes and putting in the bulbs. If I was organized, I would walk a lot less, but what fun would that be? The bulbs--and a few actual plants--come in these little bags that tell you what they are, how deep to plant them, and what amount of sunlight they prefer. Crocus in one bag; daffodils in another bag; lilies in another bag; hyacinths in another bag--you get the picture. Now, some beds will get say, crocus and daffodils; some beds will get crocus and hyacinth; some will get tulips and daffodils, etc. If I was organized I would get my own little bags, sort out the bulbs, and put everything that's going into one bed in its own bag. That way I would only have to take one trip to each bed, plant the bulbs, and be finished much earlier. I would save much time and shoe mileage. No thanks. I love to be outside. Why would I want the time to go quickly?
Now, I confess, the mulching is more organized. I start out front, move to the area around the house next, and then mulch the stuff out back in the meadow. I don't mulch the beds yet. It inhibits some of the flowers from spreading through the dispersion of their seeds: the cosmos, larkspur, balloon flowers, phlox, for example. I'd rather have those flowers come back every year and come back in greater numbers than mulch the beds. Yes, that means I have more weeds and grass in my beds. Ahhh, well. That's just one of the hazards of going wild. (I wish some horticulturist genius would invent something that would kill weeds and grass and not harm the flowers.)
How do I decide what goes where? A couple beds are color coded. One is all blues and purples. One is all reds and whites. Another factor is sunlight. Some flowers need lots of sun, some like partial shade, some like all shade. (God covers all the bases. Beauty everywhere!) Another factor is the calendar. I want blooms in each bed from April to frost. The last factor, and I think I've reached it or am getting tragically close, is saturation. How many flowers can one bed hold? Sadly, not nearly enough for a flower addict like myself. No, I'm not looking for a cure. New beds anyone?
My helpers, Bonnie and Gus, are indispensable. They think ricocheting from place to place and back again is great fun. They "hound " me, chase each other, and, on rare occasions, just sit and watch me work. Sometimes, naturally, they sit right in the middle of the bed I'm trying to plant. And, naturally, they think that my trying to get them to move is just another game worth playing. Gus likes to "dance" on his hind legs like the pigs in Animal Farm, but he's as close to brain dead as an animal can be. Great fun, gentle, cute as can be, brain dead. Bonnie is brilliant except that she has one eccentric behavior. When I'm not giving her enough attention, and she wants to be petted, she growls at me. Hey, it works. Gus, by the way, specializes in fertilizing. On top of the new mulch is his favorite doggy "litter box."
So, the fall walking of Iten's Acres is for the beauty of 2012, the extra time outdoors for the old man, and for "going to the dogs." Got a small spade? Don't be afraid to dig in.
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