While I'm Thinking Of It

. . .
The mums are fab this year!
There has been an awful lot of controversy over chrysanthemums.

Better to fall plant?
Spring plant?
Start by seed inside under lights?
Start by seed with wintersowing?
By cuttings in spring?
Mulch heavily?
No mulch?
Pinch?
Don't pinch?

Guess what - In my experience, they pretty much all work here in zone 5 - it's really up to the mum. Do they like you? ;-) Experiment to see what works for you.

So far, I've broken every single rule. I don't mulch. I don't pinch. I don't fertilize. I have some growing in full sun, some in part shade and still others in the dense matt of roots in total shade at the base of a sugar maple tree. They are the one perennial in my yard that is completely ignored and still come through our tough lake-effect winters like total champs!

The best mums I've had so far are the ones people chuck out every year, like these: Rescued.
I'm going to scout out the roadsides again soon. Some people are so wasteful!
:)

It's Coming

Well, against my better judgement it is, but Mother Nature (she's been quite the cranky old bird this year) has her own ideas of how things should be run.

Fall. What is she thinking? 39F? Already? Seriously? Sooo not a good joke.

You'd think my DH would learn...

Him: "Do you have to save everything?"

I wait for the inevitable flustered gesture and accompanying eye roll.

Me: "Ummm, let me think a minute." Polite pause as if I'd really consider such a nonsensical question. "Yes!"

Resigned sigh as he grabs hold of the opposite side of the 8000 pound elephant ear/canna pot.

Ahhh, the annual fall bring-it-all-in dance. Loverly!

Time to pinch, poke, repot, dig, store, debug and dedirt it all. Now, why are husbands/in-laws/neighbors/basic non-gardeners so slow to learn the yearly garden ritual of ItMustAllBeSavedOrTheGardenGodsWillExactTheirRevengeNextYearOnTheEntireYard thing?

And then there's the IMustNotFailToGetTheseSuckersToOverwinterOrI'mATotalFailureAsAGardener rule.

And, the IfIOnlyStartOneCuttingItWillSurelyCroakAndI'llBe'WhateverPlant'PlantlessInSpringSo
80MustBeStarted rule?

Lets not mention the MustStartEverySingleSeedICanGetMyGrubbyLittleHandsOn rule as it isn't quite time for that ... yet. (the saving of seed part is a whole 'nother ritual/rule thing entirely!)

Look, I like plants much (oh, so much) more than I like people. Yeah, so plants are a dime a dozen and cheap. So are people (yes both a dime a dozen and some I know could be considered to lean toward the tacky, cheapish side), but would you throw one of them on the compost pile because they were looking a tad scraggly? Aside from the arrest and conviction thing, I mean.

Heh, thought not.
:)

Flipped Off

I guess even the veg get a bit disgusted with the neglect they begin to suffer around this time of year. How not cool is it for them to flip you the bird?

Of course, my oldest daughter just couldn't resist messing with it :)
I think that even our pond residents are a little disgusted that our daily conversations have become a lot shorter these days. Then again, maybe they're as depressed as I am that fall is here - which means winter can only be closer than we'd like it to be.

The tomato sauce is cooking.

:)

I'll end up being able to freeze about eight gallons. Not bad! I was finally able to get ahold of some vinegar, so I'll be able to put up a few quarts of pickles tomorrow. Yay! The only things left to get into the freezer are the brussel sprouts and we're still waiting on the corn from having to wait on the weather and getting the seed in the ground late. Zucchini are still coming in at the rate of a couple a day.

Oh, and the popcorn is still to come!

The flowers are trucking along as if it'll be 80 F forever. Now that it's fall, we've finally arrived at summer. Stupid weather! We ended up only getting three very small Moon and Stars watermelons. It was just too cold for them to grow worth a crap. On the bright side - for some reason, my son's hot peppers produced great! Go figure. My green peppers didn't do crap.

I'm at that early fall 'don't give a crap' point. It'll pass. It always does.

Bleh

That's really all there is to say about this time of year.

I call it the 'inbetweener' season. Time to clean up the garden and flowerbeds and get out all those half finished quilts. Yet, the temps aren't playing fair and there are still things going strong, pushing away the urge to tidy up. There's still time. Summer hasn't vanished yet. But, it will. Soon. And that white shit will be everywhere. Soon. Ugh - the inbetweener.

The Toad Flax has had a second flush of bloom, so I'm glad I didn't get scissor-happy and shear everything off. The zinnias (of course) are happy, toms are still overflowing, and the peppers are ignoring the fact they aren't in a nice tropical environ - nevermind, it will be mid to upper 80's today, so let 'em go on thinking it. Buddleia are absurdly weighted with new blooms, petunias are still pushing on, as well as the snaps, marigolds and cosmos. The asters are spectacular.

I really should get out there and collect some bean seed for next year and rip the plants up. But it's so nice out. It's not time! Not yet. And I will continue to refuse to acknowledge that it is until I need to dig out my woolens.

Change Shmange

I'm one of those people who dislikes change. Very much.

I've gotten used to getting up, grabbing a cup of coffee and wandering around outside with that steaming cup while, with the other hand, fingering flowers and leaves and jabbering to the koi (yes, they can distinguish between people) as the sun peeks over the edge of the horizon, throwing gorgeous rays of color over everything and the birds peep from the feeder while a warm breeze blows softly across the dew and tree leaves rustle. Ahhhhh.

Now...well, it's damn cold out there!

I have this awful twinge of regret and anxiety now that summer is heading off to ... somewhere.

Lordy, I need to move.

Everything in my house has a place, and it has all been it that same place for 25 years. (yeah, and probably some of that dust has had its 25th birthday as well). I still have the same dishes and silverware I had when we got married. New furniture is only aquired as a 'have to' because someone has fallen on the floor for the fifth time. Bills are always paid by check, none of this new-fangled online pay for me, by goobers! Cash at the register. Ancient, cracked and crumbling Christmas decorations hang on the same old, 'see the wire branches' tree, some held together with taped strings of lights. Hey, it is electrical tape! Maybe the cheap stuff, but still. And it comes in colors! Charlie Brown would be so proud.

Have I mentioned I don't like change?

Yet, I find it strange that the one thing I'm overly motivated to constantly change is my garden. I've just finished one corner and wham! I'll be darned, but the next bed has a few plants that aren't happy with their location. So, get out their little suitcases and move them and their dirt 3 feet to the left. Ahem.

Oooo, see, now there's a hole and a big empty spot there. Well, something else will just have to pack up their roots and move in.

Geeps...they're like bad, bad rental tenants with wanderlust. Heh, I wonder if I can start charging them rental space.

Nah, not worth it. Although, with all those wild parties they throw with the Japanese beetles and aphids, I bet I get to keep the security deposits.

Fall seems to be persistantly knocking at the front door with his suitcases piled on the steps behind. If he isn't careful he's going to bust out my glass with all that bangin' ... and then there'll be some-kinda-trouble.

Well, This Is Just Not Cool

30 degrees in Saranac Lake Sunday night, August 19.

I ventured out to the gardens yesterday and needed a coat. A brisk wind and 62 degrees for a high feels mighty cold to my summer warmed skin. Both my body and brain are not ready for this.

That 'fall panic' feeling hits me like a wet, smothering blanket "Must get food in the freezer. Now!"

It takes a lot of mental force and deep breathing to push that panic away. I finally convince myself there's still plenty of time.

And then I see our young maples already colored up with their fall oranges and reds and immediately return to panic mode.

"But it's still August," I try harder to convince myself. The butterflies and hummingbird moths are still adding to the bright colors of the buddleias. Huh, I thought I read somewhere that butterflies needed to have air temps of at least 70 degrees to fly. Well, blows that fact all to hell, if it was even a fact to begin with.

"Ah, see, hummers and monarchs are still here, plenty of time."

And then my eyes scan the sky for the source of that echoing, depressing sound. The recognizable 'V' honks gracefully by overhead, their dark wings seemingly made a few shades darker against the deep mottled gray of the clouds hanging low above them.

I sigh and frown as that panic feeling washes over me once again.