Rain delay

 The photo only looks out of focus. That's what happens when you shoot out a window wet from a driving rain. The blue blob in the center is a stand of iris.

Summer must not have received the memo. Her presence was nowhere to be found today. Wind. Serious wind. And rain. Serious rain. The rain held off until early afternoon so we were able to do some weeding, but much of the transplanting -- already late because of the cool, wet weather -- will have to wait. Sillydoggarden is soggy, sodden and saturated.

But -- looking on the bright side -- it's not a tornado, a drought, a fire or a flood. And the wind keeps the bugs down.

The weather people promise sun and 70 degrees by the weekend. Summer finally will show up and a planting marathon is on the agenda.

Two steps forward, one step back

Around here, April showers often are April snows. No problem. The snow soon will be gone and the crocus should be just fine.

Above: The crocus berm Tuesday.

Right: The crocus berm today.

Headlong (footlong?) into spring

Rubber boots are the footwear of choice as we reacquaint ourselves with the feel of gravel and wood chips under our feet. The main walkways are mostly free of snow and ice. 

It's practically balmy out there. The National Weather Service reports that we've hit 18 consecutive days with a high above freezing. It's the first March since 1878 in which the first 15 days of the month have recorded a high temperature above freezing at Duluth.

And we're lovin' it.

More signs of spring:

Rubber boots keep the feet dry when traipsing through the woods to the stream.

The stream at the back of the property is gorging on snowmelt, rumbling through the trees and providing a soundtrack that travels especially well at night when the rest of the world has quieted and it's just you (and the sillydog) standing in the dark by the deck.

The sillydog is giddy at being able to run again on something other than snow. He's so full of himself that no log is too big for him to try and move.

The first itty-bitty tips of crocus are starting to show on the berm out front. (And we've already trapped and relocated one hungry rabbit. Sigh.)

And there are wet, muddy pawprints at the door. Bring on the towels for wiping off a dog every time he comes back inside.

Holiday winter wonderland

The sun is low in the sky and the popple trees cast long shadows over the "courtyard." With the temperatures dropping, it's nice to have a thick blanket of snow.

The snow has ended, the cold is settling in (it's 11 degrees as I write this) and the sun is revealing a world of shadows, texture, pattern and contrast. All told, we got somewhere around 2 feet of snow in the Christmas storm that began Christmas Eve Day and ended the day after Christmas.

On Christmas Eve Day, you could still see the junipers in the front bed.

This was taken about noon and the short junipers were still showing green through the snow.

By the same time Christmas Day, they were covered.

This was taken through the window; the blotches are from the wind-driven rain. Trust me, there really are junipers under the snow in the center of this photo.

We seemed to have a little of everything Christmas Day: snow, wind, rain, freezing rain. We spent much of the afternoon trying to get a head start on digging out.

The silly dog found it hard to navigate except where snow had been cleared.  

 

Part of digging out means raking the drifts off the roof and checking vents.

Fortunately, there was plenty of warning about the storm. So we were prepared.

The bird feeders were filled. And we had lots of birds even in the thick of snow and wind.

Goldfinches were among the most frequent visitors.

The wreath was finished and hung days earlier.

I like simple wreaths that don't scream Christmas so I can leave them up through January or longer. This is a balsam base in which I tucked a bundle of Russian cypress and black-tip wheat.

Jars of homemade jam were decorated and ready for gift-giving. A few will have to be given out later.
 

The spoons were a great find at IKEA. I made the tags.

The yule log was decorated and ready to illuminate our Christmas Eve dinner: rack of lamb with mustard glaze and potato and parsnip gratin (with vegetables from the garden, of course). Brian even dug through the snow to snip some fresh thyme.

Joe gave us the birch yule log years ago. This Christmas I nestled it in a bed of balsam, Russian cypress and black-tip wheat.

 

We treated ourselves to a really good Cabernet Sauvignon purchased years ago and held for a holiday such as this.

Short respite from the gloom

It felt good to soak up some blue sky for a little while this afternoon.

We had a sliver of blue sky this afternoon, a rarity this soggy October. So there was opportunity for a little playtime outside with the silly dog. But playtime makes him thirsty and with all of the water garden tubs emptied for the winter, he made do with the weedy ditch on the north side of the front yard. It's actually one of his favorite places to get a drink; he likes to lie down in it and lap up the water.

Find the dog in the tall grass.

Later in the day, there was another burst of rain and one of the best rainbows I've seen in years -- the photo doesn't do it justice. It happened so fast -- within a minute the sun was behind a cloud again.

The rainbow was gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

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.

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.

Gardening isn't for sissies

The sweet corn had a rough night.

Sometimes Mother Nature slaps you around a bit. Last night, she cranked up the wind machine along with the rain. Getting 3 inches of rain wasn't a problem, but that soft earth combined with a steady wind left many of the taller perennials -- bee balm, rudbeckia and allium -- and annuals -- purple millet, black-tipped wheat and snapdragons -- bent over. But the worst was the sweet corn. I'll try to get the plants back on their feet once the rain ends.

Any wagers on whether we'll harvest any ears this year?

All hail high summer

This is rudbeckia by the garage. The original stand of these summer favorites was in a bed by the vegetable garden, but that bed was demolished as we re-thought the landscaping after the kitchen addition. Still, every year we get seedlings in various places.

Finally. It's almost been the summer that wasn't weather-wise. One of the coolest we've had in many years. Good for some of the flowers, but not so good for others. But this week, ahhhh, this week we got summer smack-dab between the eyes. Hot (in the 80s). And humid. No, I wouldn't like it like this all summer, but for a week in August ---ohhhh, that's nice!

Here, then, are a few scenes from high summer at sillydoggarden.

A mixed planting that includes phlox, variegated willow, snapdragons, salvia, ligularia and lobelia. In the back and off to the right is sweet corn.

The bee balm (variety is 'Raspberry Wine') is going great guns. That pinkish-white flower is an allium, but I've forgotten which variety.

In back, blue arctic willow; in front lamb's ears (left) and pussy-toes before they were (finally!) cut back.

The silly dog has had enough of pretty plants. It's time to cool off in the river.

Baby, it's cold outside

The furnace kicked in again a little while ago keeping a cold, damp evening at bay. It may be June tomorrow but we had frost this morning followed by gloomy skies and rain. Most of the plants that wintered inside that I'd moved to the garage and then to the back deck and front walk went back into the garage last night. And the potted banana came into the dining room for what hopefully will be a short stay.

The shuffle is nothing new, but it does tend to make one grumpy. Schlepping potted plants from one location to another to avoid cold damage or worse tries one's patience. But then I remember the exuberant, fragrant, colorful, amazing plants I enjoy all summer and, well, what I can do but grab another couple of pots and tuck them in behind my car.