When the weather is particularly nice in the spring and summer and I can hardly keep myself indoors, writing and knitting give way to outdoor interests and the creative joy of yard work.
Though the yard where I live now is modest compared to my last two properties, each of which sat on nearly a half an acre of land, and the growing season here is shorter than anywhere I’ve lived before, the temperatures more variable, the seasons more distinct, I still find ways to fit gardening into my life.
In the spring, there was the delightful, hopeful work of landscaping the bed along the front walk where I planted a couple of hosta lilies, three knock-out rose bushes, a couple of lavender plants, two Astilbe, and a lung wort plant. I then added mulch to keep things moist and weed resistant.
I also hung a number of potted petunias, impatiens and a couple of Boston ferns on shepherd hooks across the front of the house to enhance the what I had planted in the garden beds and also add a little privacy around the window. .
On the back deck out of reach of dear, I planted a few container tomato plants and nurtured them along with attention, water, and organic supplements. I traveled at exactly the wrong times, so they grew tall and lanky, yet they still produced about a dozen delicious if oddly-shaped fruit. I can just imagine how much better they will do next year if I am more attentive.
Fungus and blight became the main concern during the hot, wet summer (and this year was wet indeed) as was creating shade for the tomatoes on the deck.
Other than that, there was a lot more sitting in the shade or the air conditioned house (more writing and knitting.)
This fall brought a drought so even though the growing season was winding down I found myself out in the yard watering the hydrangeas and the elephant ears I’d planted in late June to keep them all from giving up entirely in the dry heat.
November calls for trimming trees and shrubs, raking copious leaves and getting them to the curb for the street cleaners and, here in Northern Appalachia (a new environment for me), planting bulbs, hilling rose bushes, and mulching the heck out of delicate perennials to protect them from impending winter cold.
The news of the season’s first frost sent me back out into the yard today after I returned home from teaching to bring in all the “free range” house plants I’d set around the sidewalk and the Boston Ferns hanging on the shepherd’s hooks are transitioning on the screened porch.
The Zingara Project 