Don't forget the camellias. .

 Yesterday I realized it was time to bless my plants with a little water. It has been coolish, but we haven't had rain for a while. I walked around the perimeter of my yard dragging my hose around corners, trampolines, (well, one trampoline) and in some cases over plants to reach every green thing growing in the yard. I scrutinized each plant to see if it had fungus issues or needed insecticide or if it had been eaten by deer. I was looking over some azaleas lamenting that they had problems. Should I spray them, move them to a place with more light? How could I get these bushes to be okay? I was really worrying about them and what I should do differently.

And then I looked to the left and realized that my sweet camellias could not be working any harder to make me happy. I felt sad at my lack of gratitude for their contribution and loyal service. I felt even sadder as I realized that I need to be more grateful for the friends and family who are so kind to me and try so hard to bless me with their love and goodness. I'm sometimes so preoccupied with problems that I neglect my blessings. So let me take this time to say, "Thank you" to all who are making life more beautiful for me and others with their beauty and light..

Garden notes 2020

I always thought of hats and bandanas as a fashion statement. Turns out, they are vital protection in summer's heat. My little Nike sports hat proved ineffective as I have become a literal redneck. My mom gave me permission to use this perfect hat which is what my dad wore when he was in the garden. It makes me feel special, like I'm carrying on an important garden legacy.

Something amazing happened to my garden this year. Because I took my mom to the nursery to buy flowers, a few conversations later, I am now working at the nursery for plants. Do you know how many years I've been poring over plant catalogs all winter long, dreaming of what I would purchase if I had the resources? Not only do I have the blessing of spending hours every day caring for and talking about plants, I get to take them home.

My garden life has always had ups and downs, but one of this season's ups is that my husband is on board. He heroically pulled out 80 ft. of old, ugly juniper hedge. I got a landscape plan for new shrubs from work which was thrilling. What was not thrilling is that each shrub needed a large hole dug, a large hole dug through a serious root system. Backyard forest problems. Guess who dug the holes? My husband. <3


I'm now ready to share what I've planted, what I've learned, what I love, and what I don't love yet, so I can watch my garden grow and me along with it.

When we moved into our home in Fayetteville, GA 10 years ago, there were already a lot of nice shrubs along the foundation of the house. We had a cleyera, rose of sharon-purple and white, Knock out roses-red, holly, soft touch holly, azalea, gardenia, nandina and a crape myrtle. It was orderly and symmetrical. I added my own touch of random chaos with plantings of annuals and perennials hither and yon following the survival of the fittest method. And the winner is mexican heather which is deer proof, rabbit proof and self seeding. Lantana made a strong showing as did rosemary, guara, oregano and thyme. There have been many losers-vinca, petunia, viola to name a few. I planted a little red Nancy and creeping Jenny, sometimes known as red Jenny, as a ground cover. I'm proud of them for living.

On the right you see my husband's sod patch he planted for erosion control. Seems like one more thing to mow to me. It works out though. He does the lawn. I do the plants.

On the shady side of the front beds I have fought the good fight by covering my Mother's Day Hydrangea and Camellia with chicken wire. Sorry, deer.  Eat the weeds, would ya? New shady perennials are Hellebore/Lenten Rose and a sickly little coral bell, called Heukera around these parts, that has revived and is thriving compared to how it looked when I planted it. The real reason the front of my house looks good, is that my husband has done an excellent job trimming the bushes. Thanks so much.

So this one time I was feeling a little down and did some plant retail therapy with bare root plants from Sam's club in early spring. I planted a couple of lilacs that didn't do anything, so I forgot about them. Now I have one growing in the back of my front bed. and one in the middle of my roses and blueberries. They're not blooming, just growing. I'm not even sure they're lilacs. They don't look like any lilacs I've ever seen. I'm giving them one more year and then...

This little Vitex tree was introduced to me by a friend at the nursery and it was on sale, no kidding, right? If he lives he'll grow into a beautiful purple blooming specimen that screams southern.

It's now time to talk about Mandevilla vine. No, the pink flowers are wave petunias. Last year I had Mandevilla in my pots. In the winter, I just put the pots on the garage side of the house and forgot about them.  When I went to empty and replant I saw little green signs of life. I had to give them a chance. Well, the vine on the right is tall and pretty. The vine on the left is small and pretty, but no flowers. Just in case you were wondering if Mandevilla vines are perennial, no.

I've mentioned my awesome, but unattractive, electric fence on the side terrace that protects my roses and edibles. My husband extended it to give me more room for vegetables. I call it my electric garden. My most beloved plant, the pomegranate, lives there. I was rejoicing in the spring when my tree produced dozens of brilliant orange flowers. I had 2 cuttings in potting soil that were leafing, and I planted another variety-Wonderful. I was in pomegranate heaven. Then my little orange fruits started to disappear one by one. The tree looks healthy enough, but no fruit. I didn't see that any had fallen on the ground. This leads me to believe I have a thief. I haven't decided if it's a squirrel or a bird, but I'm hoppin mad. I'll spend the winter devising ways to foil my foe. On the bright side, I still have my new little pomegranates to plant. I hope they like netting.

My fig tree lives on this same terrace. I got it from a friend, and I think of her every day.  The deer munched on it the first couple of years. Last year they didn't seem as interested, or so I thought, because one day I found it trampled with it's little trunk split. I thought it was a goner, but it has come back strong. A few months ago I decided it needed to be moved to a new location. Bad idea. I couldn't dig that sucker up. Yesterday I read that once established, the roots on figs run deep. "Be not moved" as demonstrated. Where it stands is perfect apparently.

On the bottom terrace I have a raised bed that has yielded meager crops in times past. 2 years ago I moved my black raspberries to this location. This year that stickery little plant really produced. I planted thornless blackberries and 3 varieties of red raspberries in other places, because I really don't love the thorns, but the black raspberries did their job, so we win.

Speaking of the black raspberry location, this sweet little white pumpkin has snuck down from the electric garden and found a home suspended in black raspberry canes. I love it.

On this lower level there is a horrible little strip of dirt between the retaining wall and cement that is wet all the time. Weeds grow there so I experimented and threw a couple Sam's Club bare root hydrangeas in. They lived, so I planted a nice lace cap from the nursery. It's still alive so maybe it's a fit.

 So now for the new border plants in the back yard. As I said before, my husband removed the juniper hedge that was intended for erosion control. We got rid of the lacrosse goal and discovered it's actually kind of pretty back there. I planted dwarf blueberries and drift roses in the sun, azaleas and agapanthus in part shade and pulmonaria and columbine in even more part shade.

At the bottom of the slope where the water seems to run during the storms I planted perennial hibiscus with their 1 day plate sized blooms and any hydrangea I could get my hands on. Some I bought, some I saved from the dump. I have this affinity for trying to save the little starving plants. I love to see them flourish with proper care.

In back of the fire pit on the edge of the forest I attempted to civilize the wild a bit. This may be impossible. The underplants don't seem to get much rain, and I realize I'm bringing the food to the deer, but I really wanted to try. I planted 3 jade distillium, 2 fatsia-the deer love 'em, 1 lorapetalum, a sunshine ligustrum and a tea olive for screen. I also planted a pittisporum that was headed to the dumpster, emphasis on pity. It may not make it. If it doesn't, I'm saving my hours for a viburnum bush.

Well, this (pity)sporum bit the dust. Instead, I planted a ruby spice clethra. I didn't even know about that bush until it came in to the nursery. It's lovely and smells so nice. 

The juniper hedge was replaced with radicans gardenia, boxwood, Shi Shi Camellia, Encore azalea, Florida sunshine anise, native azalea, and pink frost anise. There is one little spot right under my mom's window. Her favorite color is yellow so I planted Happy Returns daylily, false indigo and Italian jasmine.

Florida Sunshine Anise-I love 'em. They are doing well in shade and they really brighten the area.

Pink frost Anise-the leaves smell delicious

Perennials and some annuals that were in the dump.

Mom's window view

On the deck are my plants that I need to keep a close watch on and my mom's containers. I have this year's Mother's Day hydrangea which I darned near killed by planting it in the wrong spot. I rescued it and am hoping for recovery. My goal is to plant it in the ground on my birthday in September. I am trying to propagate some rose of sharon in a bucket of water. (I saw it on Youtube) I actually have some roots.

 Mom planted a tomato, pepper, zinnias, marigolds and petunias and the amazing Sunpatiens. It's like a New Guinea impatiens. I highly recommend this annual. It has been blooming strong all summer in part sun. The other annual I recommend is the Supertunia. It is self cleaning, with so stinkin many little flowers-pure happiness.I have them bordering the Autumn Ember Azaleas on the Pomegranate terrace.

Mom's containers. Sunpatiens on the right.

I have one Geranium in a container because that increases my chance that I can smell the flowers. My gerbera daisies have been returning and my wild flower seeds are wimpily trying to grow. Maybe they need more sun--babies.

My tomato is not nearly as productive as Mom's cherry tomato. It has given me 3 fruits. I'm thankful, and I made some lovely salsa, but really, is that all? My basil is growing smashingly from seed. I keep my new roses on the deck to keep my eye on them. Somehow, I think I can hide them from the Japanese beetles if they're away from the other roses.

And if all goes well, I should get some pine straw mulch this week and life will be perfect.

Like everyone, Covid-19 has taken me out of my regular life and brought me to a smaller circle and space-closer to my heart and mind. The opportunity to be in the sunshine and dirt enjoying the beauty of God's creations has been a joyful experience. I'm learning about trying and failing, the importance of light and water and nourishment. I'm figuring out that the way I plant matters. Take time to do it right in the beginning to increase the quality of life.  I'm also beginning to understand the power of God and his mercy in letting us play a small part in His plan. Knowing and keeping His laws is paramount in the creative process. At times it seems to limit, but in actuality it frees us to reach new heights. I'm a blessed girl.

Life is like a garden...still.

So here we are in 2019; garden #30, give or take. I love gardening. I believe in gardening. I actually stink a little bit at gardening. But I recognize that the lessons from the fails are where the true value lies. (Unless it's from being self sufficient and living off the land in which I've totally not been successful.)

I've told you about the deer gangs, right? There are little groups of deer that run the neighborhood aggressively searching and destroying the tastiest crops. The group with the 2 point buck is the boldest. He walks up the stairs and eats the potted flowers on the porch :( I've been fighting with these neighborhood devourers since moving to GA 9 years ago. I've tried milk, organic granules, stinky liquid spray (expensive), Irish Spring soap, (cheap) human hair, you name it. This year my sweet son in law put in this awesome electric fence.

It works perfectly. First lets talk about the analogy of the electric fence. We leave it on at all times, unless we're weeding, trimming the grass etc. In that case we unplug it when we start and plug it in again when we finish...unless we don't. Once we didn't and those darned deer went right in and ate my roses, flowers, blueberries, etc. Demolished them. Not only did that make me hoppin mad, it taught me something. One of those deer is testing every night to see if the defense is in place...every night. Even if the defense is in place for 30 nights, they will test again. This reminded me of a principle.
 1. Satan is tempting us and trying to destroy us every day. We have to make sure our defense is always in place. We might have been strong and acting in faith every day, but on the day we decide it isn't important that one day won't matter the destroyer will be waiting to breach the safeguard.

Yesterday I gained another little understanding. I had planted tomatoes, cucumbers, watermelon, cantaloupe, peppers and wild flowers. In the first place there's probably not quite enough sun in that spot, but it's the best I have. More threateningly, somebody likes to eat tomatoes and cucumbers even more than I do. I almost solved the deer problem, but I still have rabbits, squirrels, birds, bugs and horn worms. Add that to sweltering temps and high humidity, frankly, I feel like I'm losing. I continue to water and try to care, but I'll admit I was feeling discouraged as I looked at my half eaten, withered,  bug infested crop absent of any tomatoes other than little green ones that I knew would soon disappear the minute they became palatable. As we have gotten into September, with shorter days, slightly lower temps and if not cooler at least less humidity, the flowers have experienced a renewal. That fact brought hope, so I poked around a little bit to see if anything else had managed to grow. There, under the foliage, was a ripe cucumber and five red grape tomatoes. I was thrilled, thankful for the good luck and miraculous harvest. Then I realized a simple truth. If I hadn't planted the seeds, I wouldn't have the harvest. Believe in the future, plant the seeds, make the plans, work to solve the problems, (you're gonna have them), and watch for the miracles.

Daffodils!

I believe in planting daffodils. I remember reading an article in the Readers Digest about a person who created a breathtaking field of daffodils by planting bulbs diligently every fall to bloom in the spring. It was called "The Daffodil Principle" written by Jaroldeen Edwards. The idea of contributing to the beauty of the earth in that way impressed me, and I silently vowed to do my part.  I planted in my flower bed and even in my lawn in NE, KS, and IL. But somehow I lost my momentum: Minnesota was too cold; West Virginia was too shady. My magnificent dream was neglected and then forgotten. Years passed with nary a bulb being placed on Stoker soil. And then... last Saturday, there I was at the hardware store in October. My husband was in the plumbing department. so I was browsing around the pretty things and I came upon them--daffodils. I remembered my past promise to the earth and was encouraged by the little "deer resistant" stamp on the package. I felt so happy as I walked to the car with my bag of replete double pink bulbs.

Today while I joyfully planted, I thought of the hope manifested by my task. Y'all know I love flowers. I'm a fan of purchasing bedding plants that are already blooming, but that only requires a teeny bit of hope--stay beautiful and hope that no hungry animal eats them for breakfast. This year I also planted some zinnia seeds. I hoped for their growth and flowering beauty and was rewarded within a few weeks. But bulbs take a special long term hope, a hope that even though the harvest is waning, the leaves changing and soon all but the evergreens will be asleep, it's the hope that winter is only a season. The earth that looks to be void of life is not dead, only dormant, waiting to be awakened by promised spring. That much hope felt right in my heart.

My hope felt right because we can believe in good things yet to come. Winter isn't meant to last forever. By planting bulbs I'm reminding the cold season of hardship that it cannot stay. Come if you must, but soon earth will thaw, branches will bud, birds will chirp, and brave little daffodil shoots will peak through the ground, thrilling us with their sweet green promise of life. And the world will warm and live.

And that's why I love daffodil bulbs. Because I believe in hope.

Beautiful Growth

2 springs ago, I found this beautiful lantana at the nursery. I loved it's sweet pink and yellow faces and it's heat resistant constitution. I planted 3 and they cheered up my flower bed all summer. Winter came, however, and life got hard for these little beauties.  Where was the sun? How were they expected to survive the frigid temperatures (Comparatively speaking. We're in GA after all.) Two of my lovely friends gave up. They had done their part. A summer of constant blooms is quite enough to ask of a pretty face. But one brave flower sister fought the fight  She dug in her roots and hung onto her place and returned triumphant in the spring. She didn't return as she began however, she came back stronger, taller and even more beautiful. Those roots had strengthened and had even more to give to the world.  This summer, sweet lantana was the star of the garden show and a favorite with man and butterflies.

I was reminded of this story because my daughter and I were having a conversation about a rough time she had weathered. I was feeling all motherly sadness because of her trial. She explained to me, "[During that time] a lot of beautiful growth occurred. The Lord knows. I have total trust in him."

So that storm that came yesterday? That was an opportunity for beautiful growth. Broken heart, disappointment, hardship? It's all part of the beautiful growth that occurs when we trust God and keep walking in his path.

Thanks for teaching me, baby girl.