Spring Business or Maybe Busy-ness

While Chris was off grunting his way through the installation of a new air filter on the motor home, I decided to take a wander in my garden. First stop was the rhubarb stand tucked away behind the David Austin roses in Brent's entry garden. After wrestling out a goodly amount (and one Borer Beetle) I pondered on what to do with it all. Growing up, my mom used to make rhubarb sauce, which we dumped over vanilla ice cream. Serious yum, to say nothing of the sugar buzz. Didn't know about all the evils of sugar back then, I guess. I'll post later on my culinary decision. Next I came upon the scrouge of spring, bane of gardeners everywhere, shame of nurseries who continue to sell it...Chameleon houttuynia. Bad, very bad, berrrrrrry berrrrry bad.

The most infintesimal of root left in the ground will sprout a thousand offspring. In other words, there ain't no gettin' rid of this sucker once you plant it. Agent Orange won't kill it either. (Don't ask, I won't tell who my contact is at the DoD.) Oh, and the smell? Think of cilantro on steroids. That alone seals the deal for me...hate cilantro.

So why is it in my garden you may well ask. Well, go ahead, ask! BECAUSE I'M AN IDIOT IS WHY! There, you happy? Back in my baby gardening days, when I knew C&#P about anything, I was beguiled by a poetic description of this "carefree groundcover with spring flowers like strawberry plant blooms, pretty color and easy care." Huh! This is the kudzu vine of the north.

Still grumbling, I headed back inside and was stopped dead in my tracks by this....

Each of those flowers is almost six inches across. It is clematis Dawn and she is blooming about a month ahead of schedule. A freakish hot weather spell a couple of weeks ago got the ball rolling early this year. I keep trying to convince her to go UP on the arbor over Brent's door, but she prefers smothering my prize Japanese cut leaf maple.

What I am most pleased about is how the Lolly garden bed is shaping up. (I name some of my garden beds for special people in my life.) I completely revamped the bed last year...started from scratch with a design of my own. I think it is going to work out! Yeah!

Allium 'Lucy Ball' is blooming; nepeta 'Six Hills Giant' offers softness underneath. Tucked in among that are peonies and Blushing Knock Out roses. Way at the back are oriental lilies. Later there will be catmint nepetoides, smaller alliums and queen anne's lace. The obelisk will support a couple of clematis and a climbing rose a bit later in the season.

Way back when dirt was still young, I planted my first garden bed here at the farm. This was an endeavor doomed from the beginning. Why you ask? Well, I’ll tell you…I knew, er, dirt about gardening. Off I prance out of the house one Saturday morning in my happy little gardener outfit, complete with hat. Trowel in hand, I savage the lawn where I want to site the new bed.

Okay, Plan B, ask Chris to get a shovel and “just go turn the sod over and dig down a little bit.” Polite society will not allow me to print his reply to that idea here.

Plan C, hire a rototiller. Now we’re talking. Power equipment. What’s the funny sound Tim Allen makes on Tool Time? Anyway, I had a couple of inches plowed up, thinking that would make a good bed. I went out and bought a billion plants - you know - one of this and one of that and stuck it all in the ground. Or more accurately, tucked each one between the sod lumps.

Time passed, the sun rose and sat, the seasons changed. The garden bed was mostly grass with a few struggling plants valiantly waving their little heads in the wind. “Help me…please don’t let me die here like this….” I hear voices often. But maybe I shouldn’t mention that…

Every time I looked at the Lolly bed, I felt like a failure. (Didn’t I mention I *name* all my garden beds? No? Well, I do!) I named it Lolly because I wanted to design a garden to honor my friend with the strong colors she so favors. Warm yellows, clear blues and pops of red. Never mind I planted apricot, white and pink. Never mind I planted Centaurea montana, also know as Bachelor Button, also known as the kudzu vine of the north, the most invasive, persistent, can’t kill it with Agent Orange flower…ever. Sigh.

Time to channel Scarlett O’Hara and swear as God made little green apples to never, ever plant bad garden again! So I studied, subscribed to a dozen garden magazines, scoured the internet, went on every garden tour possible, stalked garden owners and watched gardening programs on HGTV until I was in a coma. Still couldn’t design a garden bed to save my life.

But then…wait for it…I discovered…nope, I STILL got nothing. Can’t do it. But I wouldn’t run up to this and leave you hanging! So, here in pictures is the new Lolly garden bed. Freshly designed and planted by yours truly.

Bed prepared for replanting.

New plants set in place this week.

And voila…!

NOT!