What a Difference a Month Makes

This year has been a funny year for gardening. The winter was brutal and so some perennials died back a bit. We also had a super cool spring and so we got started a bit late on planting the veg.

Just a bit over a month ago, this is what our newly planted vegetable garden looked like:
 

And as of a few days ago, after a serious weeding, it looked like this:

There are teeny tomatoes on all of the tomato plants.  Tiny cucumbers are growing. I have already made one small lunch batch of pesto from backyard basil and have used dill in a salad made with farmer's market potatoes.  It's so great to be able to walk out to the backyard at dinner time to "shop" for ingredients we need.

Gardening is like magic.  I mean, it's hard work, I guess.  But after such a miserable winter, it's hard to believe that all of this green and growing and bounty will return.  And that it grows like weeds on top of that?  It makes me feel lucky and it makes me feel proud that we have been working this ground for seven years now, creating a bed that supports all of this life and food production.

As proof of that. . . as I was weeding the whole garden on Sunday, I thought, "Why don't we use gardening cloth to keep these weeds down?"  But once I was done weeding and could see the darkness and loamy-ness of the soil, I thought, "We worked hard to make that soil so rich and pretty.  I'm not covering that up."  I am a silly and vain gardener as it turns out.

Plus, new for 2014! Dan has made me three trellises for container gardening: 

 

Our veg plot is so small, that it's hard to give up space to large trailing plants like watermelon or winter squash.  So, this year, I'm growing those and summer squash in containers with the hopes of growing them vertically and training a number of them up on to the trellises.  It's just a side bonus that they will also cover up our boring gray garage for a few months.

I definitely got a late start on these, but squash grow so quickly that I'm not worried.  And those containers are jam-packed with organic potting soil and manure.  By next month, I expect them to all be two to three feet up the trellises. And I have dreams of late summer watermelon and winter squash dotting the trellis in tiny support hammocks.

Fingers crossed.

Holy Cow.

I've had an iris about ready to bloom for a week.  Last fall, I hurriedly ordered and then planted a bunch of bulbs and rhizomes last and then promptly forgot what any of them were.  And I'm going out of town tomorrow and thought I would miss this guy blooming before I went.

But, at last.  And it was worth the wait.

The inside is just as pretty.  It looks like a stormy sunrise... *sigh.

At Last

Winter has been tough in most of the country this year. (Can I get an Amen?)  Frigid. Snow covered. And so ridiculously long.  I mind winter less as I get older, but I have hated this year's.  It snowed just a few days ago.  After a few sixty and seventy degree days--flowers blooming in the yard, me out on the town not sausaged into a million layers for the the first time in going on seven months--enough big fat wet snow fell that it stuck on the ground for a whole day.  In April.

Unconscionable.

I have asked strangers on elevators (in a town where you don't talk to strangers very often), "Why does the outside hate us?"  I was on a walk in the cold with the dog two days ago and a bundled up old guy on a bike yelled as he rode past us, "Do you know when the hell it plans to warm up?"

I'm just saying, people are angry and tired and fed up.

But I think things are finally about to change and I have collected the proof from my very own yard (and the neighbor's):

The very start of lilac blooms.  I love the tight concord grapeyness of their beginnings.

Asiatic lilies creeping out.  Right from the start they're so themselves--pointy and brash.

Is there anything more promising up north than the first prehistoric looking unfolding of Rhubarb leaves?

A hosta spear troop.

Bird's nest on our rolled up awning. (And, um, I think we need to scrub all of that down when the birdie is done.  Dirty, dirty.)

Crocuses!

Neighbor's tree. (totally jealous.)

Spirea leaf starts.

Spring is Here

So, it's been really warm in Chicago. . . a few days have actually been hot and humid. Over 80 degrees. The kind of weird extended hot spell in March that makes you want to look askance at Rick Santorum when he pshaws global warming as a bad scientific myth.

The last frost date for Chicago is in May, and with my garden coming to life so early, I'm worried things are getting set up to be damaged--especially the newly transplanted irises and lilies. I also am having to fight the pretty daily urge to get out there are get to work. There's no way that the end of cold weather has come to Chicago by St. Patrick's Day.

So, there's that worry, but it's also pretty exciting to see green things popping up all over and knowing that winter will soon be a thing of the past. Plus, Chicago is a magical place in the spring and summer--and last week, as if someone turned a switch on, the streets were filled downtown with slowly strolling folks enjoying the sun and the warmth. There's a party atmosphere in town when its warm, and I can't complain that it's come so soon.

Transplanted Asiatic lilies.

Our neighbors gorgeous tree--blooming a month early.

No one could ever claim that our L.P. is not a handsome wee dog. He is small and cute and good looking.

But many also know that he is an obsessive little guy. Tenacious and mostly interested in chasing things, all things. . . any thing. Today, he pulled this runner bean from the bottom of a vine in the back yard and brought it to me to play fetch.


Not surprisingly, once thrown, that bean was pretty hard to find. . .

September Farmer's Market

It's all I could do this summer to fight the monster of glumness. But without fail, the farmer's market was there to brighten each Saturday. . . and then to fill the week with food that I am sure is helping me heal and get healthy again.


Right now, my own garden is cranking out herbs and tomatoes and string beans and hot peppers.


The farmer's market is augmenting that harvest with broccoli and melon and peaches and the first apples of the season. It's going to be fall soon and the fruit will drop off, replaced by butternut squash and pumpkins and chard and onions and leaks and spinach. But I'm certainly enjoying the last hurrah of summer.

August

August is the best eating season ever. Tomatoes straight from the plants in our garden. Red Haven peaches at the farmer's market. Melon, peppers. . . and the season will end with onions and potatoes and spinach and butternut squash. Best time of the year, hands down.

Things I've Seen On Walks

Walking around Cicero and Berwyn, there's no shortage of wonderful sites to collect.



And lilies, lilies, lilies. Mine all bloomed back in June.





and I love this final picture, because even though I took it mid-day in natural light with the Harinezumi, it looks like a Dutch painting.

small yard

Dan and I have a tiny urban bungalow yard. But I have big gardening dreams--in which I manage to have both beautiful flowers, interesting foliage plants, and produce loads of food to eat all summer long. It's hard to fit all of those big hopes into one small yard, and while I'm not quite successful yet, with the help of container planting and some vertical growing, I am fitting a fair amount in.




Herbs: sage, oregano, parsley, tarragon, rosemary, basil, dill, cilantro, and chives (and unwanted invasive mint)

Veg: 4 kinds of tomatoes, serrano chilis, thai chilis, yellow squash, two kinds of green squash, green bush beans, yellow bush beans, some kind of heirloom italian bean, 3 kinds of pole beans (Scarlet, Kentucky Blue, and Hyacinth).

Edible Flowers: Nasturtium (several kinds), Marigolds

Fruit?: rhubarb, six apple trees, though we've only gotten two apples off of them so far.

Decorative plants: iris, magnolia bush, hydrangea, wisteria, hosta (loads--mostly in front of the house), lilac, peony, lilies, lamb's ears, ornamental grass, two evergreen shrubs and three bride's veil bushes.

Now that I write it all down. . . that's pretty impressive. But as I think many gardeners feel, it's still not good enough. I want it to be a bit prettier and I want a bit more variety.

Peony Season

My mama helped me take a divide of one of our ancient peony plants from Carriage House Farms LLC. It's taken them a few years to get accustomed to Cicero, but now I get pretty bouquets! They're especially pretty paired with lamb's ears cuttings.

Getting Better Every Day

The northeast corner of our property. A tiny apple tree and lots of hostas.


Today I added loads of flowers to the garden . They're hard to see right now, but they're going to grow big and fat and then this garden will be full of green and purple and red and blue and yellow and white. And I will show you another picture then. . .

Beautiful Day + Log

This spring has been a cold and rainy one in Chicago. But last weekend we had a sunny day and again today, a sunny day. And it was in the low 70's. So, I took my bad back outside into the sun and did a little yard work (emphasis on the "little"). One thing I did do? Cut a few non-magnolia stumps out of our pretty magnolia bush.



And then L.P. went to town on the tiny stumpy logs.





L.P. had the best day of any dog in town today. No contest. Don't even try, other dogs, because L.P. loved that log. . .

It Doesn't Look Like Much Yet. . .

But you just wait, the front of our house is going to look better in a month or two. And in 2-4 years, it's going to be the envy of the block!

But for now, it looks like this ("Hi!" to Dan waving from the back yard):


I have this terrible habit of imagining what a garden spot could look like in ten years, and then planting that garden immediately. That's not really how gardens work. Nevertheless, I imagined the northeast corner of our our lot being a shady, sun-dappled little glen--with a dwarf, gnarled, apple-tree as the center piece, with hostas and lily-of-the-valley growing blue and green and gold in its shade.

But the apple tree is a stick and won't be much more than that for another year or two. Regardless, with the image of a wooded glen in mind, last year, I immediately planted hostas and lily of the valley right up against the sidewalk--which is a pretty sunny place. Dumb.

So, I moved some things around today. I moved hostas back into the shade of the house--some lilies, too. And a huge rhubarb plant came with the house when we bought it. It was a giant monster in the backyard, and looking at it, I realized it's easily 6-7 rhubarb plants trapped in a tight spot growing on top of each other. So, I divided two off and have planted them in the front yard. They look sad right now, but they'll perk up! (fingers crossed!)


The neighbors have pretty tulips blooming in their front yard right now--the red with black center of poppies. . .


And the backyard got some love today, too. Dan cleared out old leaves and did some weeding. And I have filled loads of containers with new dirt and seeds. In a few weeks, I hope to see the start of hot pepper plants and nasturtiums and zucchini.