Spring Blossoms and Shrubberies

The Peonies that I Always Forget to Stake

In my flower dump, a triangular bed surrounding a lamp post at the end of my driveway full of a mishmash of plants lacking any plan whatsoever, I have a peony plant that I always forget to stake until it's too late.  The blossoms are so heavy that they hang down to the ground and get lost in the foliage from the fading irises.  These flowers don't last long, and staking them individually would be a big pain in the butt, but they sure are beautiful, aren't they?

Orange Lilies of Hatefulness

I also have some orange lilies beginning to bloom.  My son Lars, now an expert on the symbolic meaning of flowers thanks to his Language Arts teacher, has informed me that orange flowers mean "I Hate You."  I have no response for that.  I like the orange flowers, and so does he, so in our gardens orange flowers mean "Lars lives here."

Six New 5' Hollies Along Front Corner, Small Elaeagnus Shrubs Along Fence in Woods

Last but certainly not least, Bernie has been taking advantage of the mild Spring weather to get some new shrubberies in the ground along the property line.  Hopefully they'll dig their roots in and get comfortable while the weather is mild, so they can grow and thrive throughout the heat of the summer.  We already had the Little Gem Magnolias and some Elaeagnus (what Bernie calls Smoke Bushes) planted just inside the fence, but we weren't getting the dense screening we wanted from them thanks to the pruning efforts of our dogs.  Otto likes to chase his "Indestructible Ball" along the fence, snapping off branches along the way, and Lulu likes to snuggle up next to the bushes and gnaw on the lower limbs, so the bushes inside the fence look like this:

Elaeagnus, Lower Limbs and Foliage Removed by Lulu the Terrible

The Little Gem magnolia trees inside the fence have been similarly pruned of their lower branches by my dogs, so they are sort of like lollipop trees.

My hope is that the bushes outside the fence will fill in thickly and screen our view of the neighbor's yard, giving us a little more privacy.  We'll leave the elaeagnus unpruned and let it grow shaggy and wild, which will blend in nicely in the wooded area.  They get quite tall around here and grow fairly quickly.

Grow, bushes, grow!

BLOOMS!

My saucer magnolia is in bloom! This is the tree I ordered from Wayside Gardens several years ago that was supposed to be an amazingly rare yellow color that never materialized. However, I am grateful that at least Wayside Gardens got the growth habit right -- most saucer magnolias have a much wider, fuller shape than this one. The tall, compact shape of this tree is the only reason I was able to squeeze it in at the corner of my house. It certainly is happy there and has more than doubled in size since I planted it three years ago.

Some of my earliest daffodils are blooming already, too, like this frilly yellow princess.  I planted one of those "mixed daffodils for naturalizing" assortments from Colorblends a couple years ago.  I was way too busy last fall and I didn't get any tulips in the ground (tulips are pretty much treated as annuals here, because even those that are rated to do well in Zone 7 end up rotting from our ridiculous clay soil).  I'll be especially appreciative of my daffodils this year, since I'm going to be suffering from serious Tulip Envy in a few weeks!

I really shouldn't have planted the daffodils in this location, at the edge of a wooded area on one side and shaded by my house on the other.  They would be multiplying and blooming a lot better had I planted them someplace where they would get more sun.  Note to self: Instead of planting hundreds of  "annual" tulips in the front flower beds, I should plant daffodils there this fall.  They should do really well there, I won't have to replant every single year, and the yellow color will set off nicely against the dark purple-pink of the saucer magnolia on the corner.  I should just do the tulips in the pots on the front steps, where the cannas grow in the summer, or maybe in the Flower Dump.

One more happy Spring surprise before I get back to work this morning: although I haven't planted pansies or anything else yet this year, a few seeds from last year's pansies planted themselves and have popped up unexpectedly:

Ignore the weeds and the moldy old leaves.  I love little garden surprises like this -- it's a reminder that even in our carefully contrived, planned, and manipulated yards and gardens, nature and chance still determine which plants bloom and thrive in response to, or despite, our best efforts to control them.

It's also a reminder to keep our eyes open and notice the details -- one little pansy by its lonesome is easy to overlook at the corner of a neglected flower bed.

Today is another busy day crammed into a busy week.  I hope you enjoyed this little taste of Spring, especially if you're still dealing with ice and snow. 

Signs of Spring!

Look what I spied in the garden today!  Little clusters of early daffodils have begun to poke up through the pine needles and dead leaves of winter, confirming Punxsutawney Phil's prediction that Spring is on the way.  Thanks, Phil!

Punxsutawney Phil, February 2, 2011

I have buds popping open on one of my maple trees as well:

The sky was such a pretty blue today, too.

Anyway, these irrefutable signs of impending Spring are reminders that it's time to pay attention to gardening again.  Never mind that it's still freezing cold outside, and I've got a practically perpetual fire burning in the fireplace.  At some point this weekend I need to:

1. Prune my crape myrtles -- not behead them like some overzealous husbands who are no longer permitted to go anywhere near these trees with the pruning shears, mind you -- I just need to trim off last year's blooms because the crape myrtle blooms on new growth.

2. My gardenia bushes are a sickly yellow-green instead of a deep, rich green, which means they need some acid-rich Holly Tone fertilizer to combat the clay so-called soil.

3. My lilac.  Oh, my lilac -- will this be the year it finally blooms?  I can't just stand by helplessly yet another year as it struggles and fails.  I begged my husband to move it to a sunnier location, but he refused.  I can't even get a shovel into the earth, so it's not like I can move this tree by myself, either.  I need to go talk to the guy at the nursery and see if he thinks the lilac might respond to the temptations of well-rotted cow manure compost.  If not, perhaps my husband might respond to some well-placed cow manure...