Two color combos I’m sort of digging this Saturday:
Monthly Archives: May 2011
As I mentioned in the previous post, my in-laws were in town from Oregon this past week. We spent most of our time with them at my brother-in law’s house in Bucks County, PA. Whenever the kids became restless and bored just “sitting around and talking about nothing” (their words), we ventured out to the local parks to allow them to tire themselves out.
On Saturday, just as park visit number three (Tyler State Park) was coming to an end, we drove past a sign indicating “covered bridge” and figured, why not? We had some time to kill. So we parked and headed down the steep steps to check it out:
After a short walk in the woods, we came upon the Schofield Ford Covered Bridge:
It was pretty damn impressive and a lot larger than I expected, especially when looking at it from a side view:
While we all looked on in awe at the unique construction and read up on the history behind the bridge, the kids just threw rocks into the river below:
Some interesting tidbits we learned from the signs on site and later from a google search:
- The bridge was originally built in 1873 using native hemlock wood planks.
- The bridge was burned to the ground (most likely due to arson) in 1991.
- By 1997, the bridge had been rebuilt just as it had been in 1873 using post and beam construction and wooden pegs rather than steel bolts.
Construction inside the bridge:
The “boys” at the other end of the bridge:
A ton of horse traffic on the bridge:
There are six diamond shape windows with views of the Neshaminy Creek:
The horses cross the creek and the kids jumped for joy when they saw it:
The funniest part of the trip to the bridge was my daughter’s disgust at all the horse poop. She is not acting in this photo, I had to carry her for most of the walk to and from the bridge:
She could have done without the whole educational trip to the covered bridge and just gone back to the play ground:
As for the rest of us, we enjoyed the unexpected discovery and as is often the case, some of the coolest things are in your own backyard.
Back to gardening tomorrow my friends.
John
We recently hosted my in-laws at our home and had a few great days together. The weather was perfect (sunny and low 70’s) so we sampled the local parks, ate like mad, enjoyed some beverages and just “chillaxed”, as the kids like to say. I’ll include some of these photos in a future post, but for today, I wanted to share one specific experience with you.
On Saturday morning, my mother-in-law asked me “Can you give us a tour of your gardens?” Innocent enough request, right? Um, no! No one ever asked me to actually bring them up close and personal with my plant collections.
Sure, some of my friends and family have limited interest in my “landscaping” passion but they never actually want to touch the plants or get to know the names. Could I present my gardens in an interesting way? Do I know the common names of the plants so it doesn’t sound like a lesson in Latin? Are the gardens even worthy of a visit? Answers: No, No and No.
Some day, I envision garden tours at my home that are majestic and life changing. I’m talking t-shirt vendors, scalpers and wine tastings. I want buses to pull up and I want to hand each camera toting tourist a map so they can navigate the grounds. Well, that is my romantic notion at least.
At this point in time, however, I am lacking skills. I almost put myself to sleep. And I couldn’t have sounded more snobby using only the Latin names for the plants since those are the only names I actually know (in my defense, I still find this the easiest way to know what plants I’m actually dealing with). I also climbed into the fetal position a few times when spotting weeds the size of small children.
Here’s a sampling of the cringe worthy tour:
I wisely started the tour where there were some actual blooms and a bunch of buds. Below is a Campanula that I so deftly called “Um, something ending with ‘bells’.”
I wonder if my never ending babbling about how ants are not really needed on a peony bud in order for it to bloom resonated at all?
A random Heuchera (I did refer to it as a “Coral Bell”, but with so little conviction) in a pot. A design element like no other.
I tried to sell how the green shade of this Chasmanthium … I mean Northern Sea Oats… really stood out. Even I wasn’t buying it.
I kid you not, I used the term “dainty” describing the foliage on this Astilbe. I still hate myself two days later.
I truly love boxwoods but I really need to better prepare and identify why. “Because the deer ignore them” and “they’re evergreen” doesn’t inspire all that much.
I’m still trying to determine if “delicate” foliage sounds worse than “dainty” but more importantly, is a geranium’s foliage really “delicate”? I need to consult my thesaurus a bit more.
I was proud of the fact that I could recall that Monarda (the Bee Balm name escaped me at the time) belongs to the mint family, but I spent way too much time all excited about this tiny mound of growth.
OK, I managed a “strapping foliage” when describing these irises. I was proud of that one but when I went into my contrasting foliage speech, it would have been nice to have these actually next to some contrasting foliage. And maybe not have them surrounded by weeds.
Admittedly, I purchased this ‘Alabama Sunset’ coleus an hour before the guests arrived, which is OK, but removing the tag would have been a nice touch.
I really need to come up with something I can successfully grow underneath all of my river birch trees.
Home boy threw out a great nugget letting my guests know this Hakonechloa was Perennial Plant of the year two years ago. I also shared how it lights up a shaded area and I have mine in a container so I could meet it’s good drainage requirement. Maybe there is hope yet?
I called this an “ice plant” trying to keep it real with the common name and no lie, my mother in law correctly stated it was Candytuft. I pretended like I never heard her.
As painful as the tour may have been, I am determined to get it right in the future. It will take a lot of work, but I’ve got the dream already played out in my head.
Time to get to work on it.
John
What a fantastic time of year this is. Everything brown has turned to green, foliage is emerging at a rapid pace and flowers, yes flowers, are here to light up our world:
Nothing can go wrong, we just let nature take it’s course and soak it all in. I mean look at the color on the blooms of this Ajuga ‘Chocolate Chip’:
And the small divisions of this same groundcover have matured and look great at the front of this garden bed:
But you know what? I’m fixated on the 3-4 plants that have huge holes smack dab in the middle of them:
I really try to keep it as positive as possible and it works some days. But when you’re as neurotic as I am with my garden (Interestingly enough, I am not the least bit neurotic in “real life”. Interesting. Discuss amongst yourselves), the negativity eventually creeps in and takes over. I have even come up with a formula that accurately nails my garden mood for each day:
If 10X < 1Y then I am OK
X = plants in bad shape
Y = plants in good shape
So for example, if there are 2 plants in bad shape (X) and there are 21 in good shape (Y) the calculation is as follows:
10 x 2 = 20 and is less than 1 x 21 = 21
I am therefore happy. Trust me, I’ve fine tuned this formula the past few years and it is definitely spot on.
But enough of the calculus lesson, here are my frustrations in pictures:
What wonderful cherry blooms, so dainty:
And I’m now left with a weeping “ugly” tree:
And it’s all the deer’s fault:
The Prunus Cistena (Purple Sandcherry) is blooming and looks great with the foliage:
Too bad it is shoved in a container trying to hide the utilities. If I set this in the ground, the deer will chow down on it in minutes and the wet soil will make it whimper in pain:
I’m convinced this was destruction at the hands/paws of some deranged friggin deer. They destroyed half this euonymus which is just enough to make me consider trying to nurse it back to life:
Um, what do I do with this? This hydrangea is in a prominent location near my front steps and it wants to pull a stunt like this? Be dead or be alive please. Pick one and go with it.
Have any of you ever tried rabbit stew? Is it any good? Any particular rabbit better than others? I could sell gallons of the stuff with the number of rabbits I’ve got under my deck and all over the yard. When I pull into my driveway at night, they scatter like drunken teenagers running from the police.
I kid you not, I’ve now successfully killed 5 of these ‘Bennett Compact’ hollies in the past 4 years. You absolutely have the right to question my sanity. This is an end of an era and I vow to never even consider them again. Although they are the ideal foundation shrub, evergreen, nice shape …
Tune in next time to see how much more I can bitch and moan about something I love doing more than anything else.
John
Multi-seasonal interest. It is what gardeners seek but often have difficulty locating.
Well I’ve got a tree for you today that offers not 2 … not 3 … but 4 seasons of interest (hell, if there is ever a 5th season invented it will offer interest then too). Throw in the fact that it draws wildlife, is disease resistant, works in most soils and is low maintenance and you’ve got yourself one mother of an awesome tree.
I’m talking about Crabapple Prairifire:
I’ve only had this deciduous tree for three years now and it has been stellar since day one. I can only imagine it will continue to please in the years to come as it develops further.
A few quick tidbits on Crabapple Prairifire :
- Survives in zone 4-8
- Prefers full sun
- Mature size is approximately 15 x 15
- Prefers average soil moisture and can handle wet soil (woo hoo!!)
- Takes on a dense, rounded shape as it matures
- The ‘Prairifire’ cultivar was discovered in 1982 at the University of Illinois
Here are some photos I’ve taken over the past year or so (zone 6B) along with some additional factoids:
Crabapple Prairifire begins leafing out in early to mid April and the foliage emerges in a deep red color:
Within a week or so after that, the blooms have emerged and usually last 2-3 weeks:
Once the blooms have faded and dropped, the Crabapple Prairifire foliage begins to change to green and the crabapples begin to develop:
The crabapple fruits are enjoyed by the birds and the birds like to chill amongst the dense foliage:
But back to the crabapples. They are my personal favorite aspect of this tree. They last from summer all the way into the fall and persist throughout the winter:
Crabapples in summer:
Crabapples in the Fall:
Crabapples in late Fall:
Crabapples in winter:
Crabapples during a late winter freeze:
I have yet to prune my Crabapple Prairifire since it is so young but may look to do so next winter.
I’ve been so happy with this tree to date that I am looking to add 2-3 more in the near future. I’ve even considered lining my driveway with them (got a few thousand dollars I can borrow?)
Seriously, 4-season interest is a rarity so how can you not jump all over these gems?
John