Midsummer Garden Realities

It’s a dark, wet day.  The Chicago area has had more than an inch of rain since midnight.  It’s not yet noon and there is more to come.

Rain, of course, is good for plants.  The grass will grow and require mowing.  Weeds will grow and require pulling.  But my flowers and vegetables will also grow and give me pleasure in many ways: color, delicious food, pride in how the yard looks.

Lots has happened since I reported my new spring bulb blooms.   My best friends housewarming gift of her prettiest iris gave me gorgeous color as soon as the dutch bulb stuff started to fade.  Look how beautiful!

That new back-of-the-house bed I dug is full.  The south third of it holds herbs, and the rest is flowers – some of them herbal (lavender) or edible (nasturtiums).  Zinnias and Cosmos promise lots of bloom starting soon, and the hollyhocks are growing, though of course I won’t see bloom from those until next year.  The annual herbs have gone bananas.  I’ve already harvested quite a bit of basil; I have regular and lemon.  Parsley is also available for salads and stir-fries.  And there’s a huge supply of cilantro, because apparently some of last year’s went to seed.  Good thing I love cilantro.  The other herbs are growing more normally but all are doing well.

This photo is a couple weeks old.  There's more stuff and more color now!

The new, enlarged vegetable bed is also doing well.  I still don’t think it gets enough sun.  I have an idea on what to do about that, involving removal of the south end of the garage’s “patio overhang”.   But that will cost $$ I don’t want to spend this year.  I’ll target doing it when the roof is redone, which is probably within the next 5 years.  Anyway.   There are a few tomato fruits and quite a few flowers.  I think they’re getting pollinated, maybe even by bees.  I’ve harvested a couple of hot peppers already.  I’ve also been harvesting spinach, chard, and kale – mostly thinnings so far but that’s about to change.  The zucchini are starting to produce, and the beans have many flowers so I’ll have lovely violet haricots shortly.    

The lilies have bloomed, and now it’s time for daylilies and pink coneflowers.   I also have lots of annuals in bloom, both in pots on the patio and in the various gardens.  There are portulaca in the front of the new flower bed, dahlias in the north fence bed in front of the coneflowers, and begonias in front(rex) and in the north patio bed (tuberous). 

This photo is a week old.  As soon as it stops raining I'll take another picture!

For such a tiny yard, I have a lot going on.  It’s delightful.  I go out there most mornings, while Coco does her thing, and look at what has changed since yesterday.  A few weeds get pulled, and spent blooms removed.  Pots get watered.  Colors are enjoyed.  And now, vegetables will be harvested.  So much pleasure. 

Garden dreams in progress

Finally, finally, FINALLY there are signs of spring in ChicagoLand.  It’s been a long, tough winter.  This post is primarily to share the eye candy coming up in my yard; it's been a delight this month to watch it begin to happen.

My potted plants have managed to survive on the back porch (which long ago was turned into an extra little room off the kitchen).  It was sometimes chilly but nobody died.  I’ve also tried to keep some sort of bloom going.  I plant a few paperwhite bulbs at a time.  And I’ve bought hyacinths from Trader Joe's.  The fragrance is so intoxicating.  There’s nothing I like better in my office to lighten the gloom of winter.  

And now, finally, my yard is beginning to wake up.  First there were the crocus: 

 Then, the delicious little blue Scilla (siberica) in the back:

And then my newly planted Fritillaria (michailovskyi).  

And then, surprisingly, the tulips.  I expect daffodils first, but not this year.  At this point the daffodils are up too, but the tulips are still ahead and will probably bloom first.  Neither is quite there yet, though:

This morning my rhododendron popped into bloom.  Last year, the tulips and daffodils were blooming first.  This year, it’s the other way around.  

Coco and I watch for flowers in other yards as we walk, and there are now spring bulbs up everywhere.  My next door neighbor’s front is gorgeous, so I can enjoy that until my own blooms appear.

Half of the hyacinths, the ones I planted by the back steps, are coming up (they were a mixture; they’re not all supposed to be pink!  But I guess I don’t really care as long as they smell good).  The ones planted close to the patio have not appeared.  It’s probably colder over there.  I shall sit on the bottom step, though, and drink in that fragrance.  

It’s time – past time – to get going on the spring work of the garden.  The soil is warming up very slowly, but it might be OK to plant snow peas, spinach, lettuce, and other early vegetables.  I did not start tomatoes or peppers from seed this year, so will need to buy plants from my CSA farmer or a farmer’s market.  But at the rate we’re going, it won’t be time to put those plants outside until June.  

That’s OK.  Every day in the garden is a good one.  I will enjoy both the work and the results in my yard.  I spent 16 years in Maryland turning my lot into something beautiful.  Now I’m starting over with a new project.  It’s exciting.

My garden, for the moment.

I live in a “temporary” apartment.   I had a lovely house in MD and will have another (soon, I hope) in IL.  In the meantime, a lot of my stuff is in storage.  I’ve learned some things about “stuff” in the time I’ve had to live in limbo.  The most important thing is, I can actually live without quite a bit of my stuff.  When I get it all back, it’ll be sort of like Christmas; many things will feel new again – “Hey, I forgot I owned one of these!”. 

There are a few exceptions, a few things I miss keenly and can’t wait to have back in my immediate position again.  My piano is first on that list.  A number of treasured books – I had to make choices, but had I known I’d be in this apartment for this long there are a few more I’d have brought with me.  And one thing that isn’t in storage but I will start over – a yard full of garden beds.  I grow flowers and vegetables; I have ever since I had my own little spot in my grandmother’s garden all those years ago.  I miss the excitement of planning, the problem solving (“Hmmm, there’s less sun here than I thought there would be” or “What kind of bugs are THOSE?”), the gentle competition with critters (all in good fun except the year the groundhog leveled my vegetable garden), the sheer pleasure of walking the yard each morning to see what’s happening, what’s changed, what’s blooming.  I love to watch the colors as they develop (or don’t) the way I imagined.  I love eating from the garden in summer; especially  the incomparable taste of cherry tomatoes still warm from the sun.  I enjoy most gardening chores, even weeding.  And I feel a garden keeps me in touch with the weather and the seasons.  I watch the days lengthen and shorten with much more interest when it affects my small harvests.  I am far less inclined to be annoyed by periodic bouts of rain.  I am, in short, in better sync with my world when the garden is part of my life. 

For now, this little deck off the back of my apartment is all the garden I have.  One tomato, one hot pepper, some herbs, and the flowers and houseplants.  They don’t take much work beyond watering – except that I learned the hard way I must pollinate my own veggies; the bees don’t find this place.  I’ll only get a few peppers and a handful or two of tomatoes even with that.  Single plants find it hard to be productive. 

It does make for a nice little spot to be outside in good weather, despite the view beyond of the parking lot and the constant jet-engine-like buzz/roar of the gas station’s air conditioner a half block away (if I play some nice music through the window, I can ignore that).  The absolutely glorious weather of the past week has made this a pleasant place to sip coffee in the morning and read or do needlework until the light fades in the evening. 

I work at enjoying this and at feeling sure I will have my yard again in the fullness of time.