Showing posts with label rainbow knockout rose. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rainbow knockout rose. Show all posts

Monday, December 8, 2008

Who’s walking down the streets of the city, smiling at everybody she sees?

Yeah, that would be Windy. And frankly, I always thought that Windy, as commemorated in song by The Association, had a dark side to her apparent nonstop ecstasy. There were definite implications of a Crazy Lady thing going on. A little too frenetic and happy, know what I mean? This infernal wind has the same general tone of borderline personality disorder. Oh, it seems benign, but it gets a little whipped up and just never stops. And it just seems ODD.

Safely protected from this wind, the Rainbow Knockouts are thriving. They were massively verklempt after the summer heat, but now they've regained their composure and their true sunlit pink.

I planted a holiday poinsettia in the ground after Christmas last year and now it appears to be fixing to bloom. It's a white flowered variety.

The Icebergs are also blooming prolifically; but since they are exposed to the street frontage, suffer from the wind. Tonight on my walk in the 'hood, the wind was out of the south at a steady 15 knots by the look of the windsock at Dept. of Health. Weather.com says gusting to 28mph. Maybe we should install windmills on our houses instead of solar panels. If you're thinking, why doesn't she shut up about the wind, go read someone else's blog. I'm telling you right now: this wind ain't natural.
Charles survived the so-called freeze. He was bundled in his makeshift tent but I don't think it froze here as some of my unprotected plants in front also seem unfazed. He is busy producing another flush of buds, so in about 3 weeks, if I can keep them safe, there will be another performance of the yellow bells. Helping this brug winter over has now become my raison d'etre. Yes, I know, get a life. But really, it helps to focus on trivial matters when the world is spinning around, doesn't it?


Somewhere between the trivial and very important is the save-the-date postcard I'm working on for Grace's wedding. It's a take-off on old timey postcards; I plan to have the printer leave the job untrimmed and then cut them myself with deckle-edge scissors. Among the Narrangansett motifs, I included the heavenly Rosa Rugosa on the lower left-hand side of the image. This seashore-loving rose grows in dense thickets along the coastline and its scent is an intense mix of rose, lemon and seaspray. And, with red roses being the symbol of love, this bit of Rhode Island botany seemed just right.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Bloom Day

Starting a new garden is really testing my patience. Not much is really going on here at Aurora with the exception of the Neverending Cycle of the Liveoak Leaf Drop. Can I just say how much I loathe liveoaks? I know this is not a popular opinion, but as a yard tree they bite. There are few things that will grow beneath their canopy (aspidistras, liriope, indian hawthorne, blue shade; I think that covers it), and they spend about six months of the year in their twice-a-year leafdrop process. First they throw off little fuzzy caterpillar-bloom things which are tracked into the house on clothes, dogs, and shoes and then it's about 3 weeks of spewing tons of yellow pollen powder (which impacts the walls of the house, cars, patio furniture, and, oh yeah, LUNGS). Then there are the leaves themselves which take a leisurely two months or so to completely drop in succeeding waves of snowdrift-like heaps. These leaves have the biodegradable quotient of Kevlar. In the lawn, acorn caps, detached from the nut, are as painful to bare feet as sticker burs. I do not know where in this cycle the phenomenon of the oak gall occurs. But it really is the liveoak's coup de grace of annoyance. These hard round balls lie camoflaged in the oakleaf debris, ready to send the idle gardener (namely, me), into a logrolling pratfall with one false step.
But enough of this raving. Here's what bloomed today.





Rainbow knockout with pretty bug (hope he likes aphids)




Blackfoot daisy





Mountain Laurel, which is having a boom year all over town.





It would be helpful if I kept better records. I put in four crossvines in two varieties, Dragon Lady and Tangerine Dream. I can't tell which this is even after consulting the hang tags and google search; it's not the usual orange one. Not sure if I like it.





A flop-eared mutabilis.