Single Bloomers

There is a wheelbarrow situated on my north lawn brimming with a load of garden clippings, awaiting my removal. When it's emptied, I will have another, then another for that trusty one-wheeled workhorse.

Calliopsis volunteer ... a burritt plant, Linnie! 

While traipsing through the garden recently, I came upon this little sport growing straight up through a jungle of leaning raspberry canes. I was surprised and somewhat stupefied to see it because it was exactly 15 years ago, (yes I had to double-check by counting on my fingers) that its parents grew in this spot--the very first summer I gardened here. So, this little flower's seed lay dormant in this spot all these years! Either that or an airplane with a leaky cargo of Calliopsis seed flew over. 

Alstromeria

 One last stem of blooming Alstro, backlit by afternoon sunlight, also delighted me that day.

Spiraea 'Neon Flash' 

As did the single stem of bright pink Spirea. Have you noticed that it's to that point again? The season when all of the thrills of summer's plethora are condensed and funneled through the siting of a singular colorful stem?

A Change of Heart

For those of you who are regular visitors, there is no doubt you're aware of my reluctance towards autumn. You've patiently read my incessant bemoaning; my carrying on ad nauseum; whining and bitching like life was really handing me a bitter pill.

The last cluster on my Carpet Rose

Which is absolutely ridiculous. No bitter pills here.

One of my Fuchsias. They're all still looking really swell. 

It's not so much fall itself I was protesting. It was saying goodbye to summer. Witnessing the long, sun-filled days and evenings come to and end and with it, the decline of my summer garden. I know I'm not alone either because many of you have written of the same reluctance. 

Another Fuchsia. I don't know the names of most of them. 

Well, I confess that, finally, here in late October, my attitude has adjusted favorably. Finally. 

Fuchsia

Yet another Fuchsia. See I told you they look good!

           














I suppose it's the allure of the blushing trees, the soft glow of the sunlight, the cooler temperatures, orange scatterings dancing across the road; russets, reds and golds illuminated by a cloudless blue.  How can you not love that? 

Geranium 'Patricia' leaning into the pathway 

 Foggy mornings, the smell of wood smoke... you get the picture.

Geranium 'Jolly Bee' making a serious attempt at defying fall. 

 Yes, autumn is very enjoyable right now.

Cyclamen growing in an obscure place

The temperatures have been very pleasant lately. I'm still behind on garden work but didn't let that deter me from snapping photos earlier today.

The plight of the garden...pretty things among the "ruins." 

Granted, there is lots of chaos but treasures can still be found.

Gaura

Echium tuberculatum is still blooming like crazy. 

Lespedeza thunbergii just finishing up

Canna 'Tropicana' still looking decent

Anemone, alive and thriving

Blushing Hydrangea blossoms

The last few raspberries

The last few blueberries

I still have a few goodies left in the garden. The berries are just finishing up. I got a nice handful of both raspberries and blueberries. Tasty! 

The tomatoes were tasty too. 

The last of the tomatoes

The last of the cherry tomatoes

My neighbors have a politically incorrect Ivy vine. Whether they are aware of Ivy's propensity to smother trees or not, I don't know. I'm thinking not since they're allowing it to climb the fence and basically take over. 

Check out the little sputniks on the left. They are the flowers of the Ivy. This photo is but one small representation of a huge mass of blooms right now. The sound of the honeybees is what alerted me to them. Not much to look at, they sure make the bees happy. So I guess Ivy does have one redeeming quality. Who'd a thunk?

A small toadstool growing in the pathway rocks

 I thought I'd leave you with one final lilliputian treasure. Cute, isn't it?

What do you think of my new header photo? This and the new one on Subplots By Grace, my other blog, are the fruit of my Saturday, sitting on my arse. I've got a new post over there too, if you've got a minute. Thanks for your kind comments!  

Bouquet Fodder

I took some time to wander the garden today. It wasn't rainy but everything was wet from an earlier downpour. I'm working full time for the month of October, maybe longer so my gardening has been severely limited. When I do get a block of time, boy am I going to be busy. What a freaking mess!  I was surprised that among a plethora of untamed madness (and believe me that's an understatement) there were a few pretties.  

Monkshood (Aconitum) and a reblooming Phlox

An aging Hydrangea blossom.

A newer Lacecap Hydrangea blossom 

Fall color is still in its infant stages in these parts. Most of the trees are still green and only a few of the shrubs are turning. I was surprised to see so many blossoms on my dwarf Buddleia.

Buddleia 'Lo and Behold Blue Chip'

 Most of my Sedums have turned brown. Not this one though.

Sedum 'October Daphne' 

With the aforementioned Buddleia and a few nice blossoms of Honeysuckle, I'm thinking I could create a final fragrant bouquet.

Hall's Honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica 'Halliana ') 

'Cherry Ripe' Phygelius (Cape Fuchsia) 

 There are a few reblooming stems of Phygelius I could add to the mix.

Jasmine 

 A few fragrant stems of Jasmine are also begging to be acknowledged.

(Cercidiphyllum japonicum) or  Katsura  

 My Katsura is one exception to the fall color delay.

A pot of tiny Sedums

Early in the spring, I poked a little snippet of Sedums in the above pot. They've filled in nicely and are now beginning their journey over the side. Yay!

Finally, I wanted to show all of you the gift I received from Chelsea. She is a fellow Oregon blogger who recently had a giveaway and I was the winner. Lookie what I got! If you haven't yet visited her delightful blog, Three on Grove just click on her name. She's a real sweetheart. Thanks again, Chelsea!!

The ABCs of Me

It's a beautiful Saturday. Earlier, I ventured outdoors and was pleasantly surprised at how warm it felt. Still, fall was evident at every turn. I don't like how it has affected my summer garden. My summer garden. Even the late-bloomers, like asters and anemones are scooting past their prime and begging to be deadheaded. And despite the efforts of the blooming stalwarts like hardy fuchsias and roses the entire scenario looks sad because of their ailing neighbors.

I tell myself I'm not a perfectionist anymore but maybe I'm delusional. All I know is, at this juncture, it all seems really futile and even punitive, reclaiming the wildness and disarray that nature has so routinely [and somewhat cruelly] doled out.

Rather than pep talking myself in to grabbing the pruners and digging in, I said to hell with it, came inside, grabbed my laptop and opted to hover over other people's happenings.

Not too far down the burgeoning Reader list is  Rindy Mae's Blog. She had a cute idea she borrowed from another blogger so I thought, hell, why not?

 "The ABCs of Me." 

Age: 50 but who's counting?
Bed size: Queen... must have room for cats!
Chore I dislike the most: Scooping up cat vomit.
Dogs: No! Cats, 4 of them including an unruly but lovable kitten.
Essential start to my day: Coffee, computer and meds.
Favorite color: Green.
Gold or silver: Neither. Green!
Height: 5 feet.
Instrument I've played: My mouth, singing in the car or yelling at rude drivers.
Job title: Admin Assistant, Writer, Wife, Mom, Litter box changer...
Kids: 4 ranging from 28 to 19.
Live in: A house in western Oregon
Most wanted: A bigger bathtub.
Nickname: "Mom"
Oprah, yes or no: Yes until she went to cable.
Pet peeves: Rude drivers, Congress.

Quote from a movie: "Whose little girl are you?" [Villain, Jack Elam to a nervous Tim Conway in The Apple Dumpling Gang] and "Alabama, Mobile." [Sultry and sly Jodie Foster to handsome James Garner in Maverick.]

Right or left: Ambidextrous.
Shopping: Plants, rusty junk garden art bargains.
TV show: The Good Wife, Brothers & Sisters [Netflix]
Underwear: God help us if I don't!
Vegetables I hate: Frozen or canned.
What makes you late: Over-zealous cop.
X-ray: Teeth.
Yummy food I make: Mexican, tonight!
Zoo animal: monkeys.

By the way, I've been working on my writing skills. If you've got more time to waste and you're curious, click on the link to my writing blog. It's on my sidebar. I'd love to have your opinion, yay or nay.

If It's Not One Thing, It's Another

Years ago, when I was a young gardener, I would have been mortified to take a walk in the garden that I found myself in today.

My Crape Myrtle, finally blooming, is laden with rainwater.

Back then, I was still deluded by my own self-serving grandiosity. I believed I could weave perfection out of weeds and dirt chunks. I could design eye-candy out of waterlogged detritus. Transform the desert into an oasis. Anything less was failure.

Fuchsia, Joe Pye and Kiss-Me-Over-the-Garden-Gate with the chartreuse foliage of Himalayan Honeysuckle.

As my kids got older and their play structures were relegated to Goodwill, I had my expanding blank canvas. There wasn't much that was too difficult for my designer's mind to wrap itself around.

The final show of a Hosta

Most of what I enjoy today is the result of those sore muscles and impetuosity. I'm grateful that the really heavy work is behind me.

Aging Cotinus foliage doused with rainwater. 

An early October deluge has rendered my garden pretty sad looking. This, after a dry summer. Lacking measurable rainfall for about two and a half months, my plants had been forced to anchor their roots in hardpan. Leaves turned brown and shriveled into unrecognizable masses; stems that once held the prettiest of flowers were now brown and crispy.

Hydrangea 'Glowing Embers' 

But then the rains came. And now many once-vertical stems are laying prostrate, encroaching on walkways and their neighbors. If it's not one thing, it's another.

Lespedeza on a good year. 

Good thing I've got a sense of humor about it all. I'm older now. Grand illusions of perfection don't occupy every inch of my gray matter. The garden evolves and devolves.

The Fuchsia are still looking great. 

Rather than scrutinize the entire garden, I seek out small victories. Raindrops on a dangling Fuchsia...

Shiny seeds from Lantana 

Pretty seed pods or a lone spider clinging to its web, (at which point I go somewhere else).

"Poor Man's Orchid" or Impatiens balfouri seedpod.

And because I'm so easily amused by plants, sometimes I'll saunter over to my Poor Man's Orchid and grasp a long, thin seedpod and let it pop in my hand. I know, silly, right?