October weather rant

This is what we woke up to this morning. Need I say more?

At least the silly dog enjoys the first snow of the season.

The pear's foliage contrasts with a carpet of white.

Salvia 'Victoria' huddles under the "dusting" of snow that last night's forecast warned us about.

Pie for all

This is too cool! Individual pies baked in short canning jars. Find it over at ourbestbites.com. They had me with the sweet stuff and then they said chicken pot pie. Can you say Fat Chicken Farm chickens?

I've always been intimidated by the prospect of baking a pie with a crust. But this sounds easy enough even for me.

In honor of deer

The knock at the door came early, though not unreasonably so. The gentleman said his daughter-in-law had hit and injured a deer on the road. They had called for help but it had been a half-hour already and did we by any chance have a gun? The doe was suffering terribly.

We're not really hunters but we do have a gun and a few minutes later the doe took her last breath and crossed to wherever it is we go when life is gone. Her body lay near the woods on the south side of our property.

Deer are as much a part of our gardening life here as the perennials and trees we plant, the vegetables we nurture, or the red squirrels who help themselves at the bird feeders. We take note of deer-resistant plants, wrap choice shrubs and trees in protective cages through the winter and spread deer repellent in the spring to keep them away from the crocus and tulips. I curse them when I see the damage they do to our plantings, and I love them as I watch them pass gracefully through the yard, looking for food in the winter.

So later in the day, as I was pushing bulbs into the ground near our newly constructed pool, I decided to give this autumn crocus a different name. I will call it the Doe Crocus. Because, after all, the deer are as much a part of our little landscape as we are.

Summer in September swan song

The sunny, warm disposition of September has given way to an October so far marked by wind, clouds and rain. Only a few days ago we were enjoying a perfect autumn day. What makes such a day?

Asters so heavy with bloom they can barely keep their heads up and have to lean on the phlox.


Mums in full glory.


So many onions harvested the aroma wafts across the garden.


Sweet corn and shallots (in the stack of trays on the right) are harvested, too. Every year we wonder whether we'll get sweet corn here. And every year we have a respectable harvest. Even when the corn is knocked flat (remember August).


A flock of sandhill cranes flying across the clear blue sky. (Are they heading to Nebraska?) And a couple of late roses floating in a bowl by the bed. And a supper of corn chowder made with freshly harvested corn and potatoes.

And a box of bulbs arriving in the afternoon -- including fall-blooming crocus and a selection of spring-blooming tulips. Gardeners always look ahead.

Lily porn

Fall is sneaking in the back door during this summery September -- it's time to review notes, evaluate performances and think about planting spring and summer blooming-bulbs. Lilies are at the top of the list.

1. These are Casa Blanca lilies, a garden classic. Beautiful clear white that only gets more lovely as the sun goes down. Graceful form. Nice fragrance. Tall, sturdy stems. Unfortunately, the deer also favor them. Last year, we didn't get any blooms because of the deer. This year, we doubled up on protection, caging them for much of the growing season and using the motion-detecting sprinkler to scare off would-be diners. The cage isn't the most attractive option, but you do tend to look past it because there are so many other things to see. These are the last of our lilies to bloom, making a grand statement in late August.

Big, bodacious blooms and buds.

Casas caged for their own good.

2. An asiatic lily called 'Grand Cru' makes its statement in mid- to late July. No fragrance to speak of, but its color more than makes up for that. It's a nice companion for baptisia (the straight blue species.)

The flowers aren't huge, but there are plenty of 'em.

3. Sometimes you just roll with the punches. We ordered some 'Rodela' lilies (an LA hybrid, a cross between L. longiflorium and asiatic lilies) several years back. When they flowered, they looked like this instead. So not the wine red of 'Rodela.' Pretty, but not where they were planted. Relocated to the front of the house, they mix well with my favorite 'Lauren's Grape' poppies and pink allium. We're still not sure what variety they are, but they have found a home here anyway.

The poppies are an annual; the allium is a perennial. Both complement the mystery pink lily. That's campanula 'Pantaloons' on the right -- shortly before flowering.

4. This is the 'Rodela' we were looking for. I love how the flowers are held upright like candelabra. It blooms in late July. Reputable plant purveyors want to make things right with their customers. When we alerted the folks at John Scheeper's about the lily mixup, they sent us the right ones.

Give 'Rodela' some space so you can better appreciate its form.

5. Many bulb merchants offer mixes where you can get more bulbs for less. It's a good way to go if you're looking to paint a scene with a broad brush rather than a specific color. These dark pink beauties are from such a mix that also included pale pink and white lilies.

These lilies are growing in a bed with catmint and monkshood.

6. Here's yet another example of why it's important to tag things and keep records. These pale yellow lilies were a surprise in early August. No one here remembers planting them, but I sure do like them. If I only knew what they were, I could order more.

These mystery lilies are especially winsome next to the variegated burnet. Deer nibbled the burnet in early summer, but it came back strong.

Brugmansia bloom watch update

I've been waiting a long time to see this brugmansia bloom again.
All those seasons of carting it inside and outside with the occasional anemic blossom. Finally, a sturdy, robust, beautiful blossom with a fragrance
that is fresh and pure.

Let the celebrating begin. First blossom opened Saturday morning and more are on the way. I hereby proclaim this week sillydoggarden Brugmansia Bloom Week.

Interested in giving these plants a try? Here's a primer from Brugmansia Growers International.

The plant holds its blossoms so they face down. This is looking up into the flower's innards. Gotta love that green striping.

Brugmansia bloom watch

The waxy bud of the brugmansia is nearly ready to open. The foliage continues to fight off the spider mites, even after spending the summer outside. We've been fortunate to have a warm September; it's given the plant time to bloom before I have to bring it back inside.

Brugmansia is a hands-down showstopper. The blooms are huge -- 6 inches or more -- and the fragrance is intoxicating. A few blossoms will easily perfume a room.

My success in growing brugmansia (also known as angel's trumpet) has been mixed. But I keep trying. I manage to keep the tropical plants alive in this cold climate by faithfully trotting the pots outside in summer and back inside in fall. The plants are a magnet for spider mites and it seems that every year they turn ratty-looking and refuse to bloom no matter how much soap solution I douse them with or how much liquid fertilizer I give them.

But this year, this year is different. The big brug in the herb garden is loaded with buds and several are just opening. I should have blossoms this weekend (knock on wood!) The even bigger brugmansia on the deck also has buds, although fewer than the other. So I am now officially on Brug Bloom Watch. There will be major celebrating when the first blossom opens.