The title of this post will not make sense to you now, but by the end you’ll get it. You should also note the time of this entry, there is a story behind that as well. Why so cryptic you ask? Let’s call it a case of temporary insanity, but before we get to that let’s start at the beginning of the weekend.

My wife and I took Friday off from work, dropped the kids off at my parent’s house and headed south to “whoop” it up in Atlantic City. We spent most of the car ride there trying to grasp this concept called “adult time” and about an hour in we finally got it. Wow, this is what silence sounds like? I love my kids to death (more on their shenanigans soon to come) but being able to have a conversation uninterrupted is way way underrated. We were loving life. And when that hits you take pictures like this:

Our real purpose for heading to AC had nothing to do with gambling. In fact, we did very little and won not a thing. We were there to see a concert at the Borgatta. And for shits and giggles, I’ll give you a chance to guess who it was.

Think 1980’s …

We get our trees each year from the Rosemont Tree Farm  and they never disappoint. The kids were even more elated when they were given candy canes. But much to my chagrin, they weren’t the true candy canes. Nope, they were those bastardized versions or “non-mint”, like the ones here:

A few months ago I attempted to create analogies between certain plants and actors/actresses. Looking back, some of my comparisons may have been a stretch, but one that really worked was comparing a peony to Meryl Streep. Peonies are reliable performers each and every year and Ms.Streep continues to astound with each of her performances (although I vow to never watch Mamma Mia). Peonies are classics, never go out of style and the same can be said for Mary Louise Streep (have you seen Doubt? A performance like no other). Have I lost you? Sorry about that … we move on.

Each and every spring, I can be found on my hands and knees desperately searching for the emerging “fingers” of the peonies:

I know they’ll be there but it is still exciting and means the spring is on it’s merry way.

My personal favorite is peony Bowl of Beauty. The pink blooms with their creamy white center are otherworldly:

Some facts for peony Bowl of Beauty because I’m that kind of guy, even if it was all lifted from other web sites (at least I’m doing the heavy lifting, right?):

• Survives in zones 3-8, although I have read that it can survive to zone 2
• Prefers full sun but I’ve been successful in the past growing these in partial sun
• Peony Bowl of Beauty (or BOB) matures to a size of 3′ x 3′
• BOB blooms for only 2-3 weeks in late spring but what a display it is.

• When planting, and especially if bare root, make sure to plant in the fall if possible – this allows the plant to send out feeder roots, even during the winter, to help it get established. Spring plantings may encounter stress if they’ve missed the chance to establish these all important roots.
• When planted in the ground, the highest crown bud should be no more than 2 inches below the ground. This makes it easier for the plant to go dormant, which is a must for all peonies. Also, like with most plants, do not cover the crown with mulch as it can cause root rot rather easily.
• Peony Bowl of Beauty is one tough, maintenance free plant once it is established. They totally dig being neglected (a specialty of mine) and there are many on record that have survived for more than 100 years
• Peonies Bowl of Beauty prefers well draining soil but mine are in heavy clay that does not drain all that well and they still thrive.
• While peonies are easy to care for, they do require some patience since they may not bloom for the first few years after they’ve been planted. Mine have taken about two years on average – but hot damn it’s worth the wait.
• I’m not a big cut flower guy (although I’ve cut peony Bowl of Beauty for my wife on numerous occasions), but from what I’ve researched, you shouldn’t cut the blooms on plants 3 years old or younger. When cutting, do so in the early morning and choose those where the petals are just starting to separate from the bud. Like the ones seen below:

• The cut stem should be at least 18 inches long and submerged into cold water immediately. Then, only   the leaves near the bud should be kept on the stem.

• Good companions for peony Bowl of Beauty are those plants that bloom both before and after the peonies do. These include hellebores, campanula, daylillies and ornamental grasses. Bulbs planted at the base work real well as they cover up the emerging foliage in the earlier part of spring. I’ve got my peony Bowl of Beauty plants next to Campanula ‘Joan Elliot’ and in front of a large Panicum:

• There is a belief, old wives tale, that in order for peony blooms to open, they must first be covered with ants as they are responsible for initiating the bud to open. I put my detective hat on and from all that I’ve read, it is believed that the ants are drawn to the nectar secreted by the buds but do not have any impact on whether or not the bud actually opens. Personally, I enjoy the “about to open” buds almost as much as the flowers themselves. It is like a promise of what is yet to come:

I hope to add some additional cultivars next season (as always, where is the question) and may even invest in a large sized tree peony. We’ll see. Until then, I’ll drool over my peony Bowl of Beauty.

For now, I’ll just continue to dream about better days as we’re inundated with rain and wind.

Stay thirsty my friends.
ONG

My apologies for yesterday’s “sarcastic” post. I think I confused many of you and gave off the impression that I actually still had peonies blooming in November. If you couldn’t tell by now, my sense of humor skews very high on the immaturity scale. It was a nostalgic look back to the spring and denial that the gardening season is coming to a quick close. I may need to make better use of the mental “edit” button.

But we push on to today’s entry.

This time of year you really appreciate those plants that continue to push on through the colder temps and adverse conditions. I walk around the yard grading each and every plant and their survival capabilities even yanking out some of the weaker performers in a fit of rage. It is truly survival of the fittest.            

So here is a photo graphical journey (how’s that for hyperbole?) of the current state of my botanical beauties:

The ornamental grasses are all in different stages of development:

Miscanthus ‘Morning Light’

Miscanthus ‘Gracillimus’

Panicum ‘Rostrahlbusch’

Beautiful fall color that keeps on keeping on:

Itea ‘Henry’s Garnet’

Thuja ‘Rheingold’

More subtle happy foliage: 

Achillea basal foliage

Hypericum ‘Albury Purple’

Ajuga ‘Chocolate Chip’

Spirea ‘Goldmound’

Carex ‘Kaga Nishiki’

An interesting random bud/bloom out of nowhere:

Campanula ‘Joan Elliot’

Hemerocallis ‘Joan Senior’

I don’t know what everyone is moaning and bitching about.

Waaahhh, it’s the middle of autumn and all the flowers are gone.

Waaahhh, all the birds and bees are gone.

If you just took the time to amend your soil, properly prune your perennials and deadhead religiously, your yard could look like it does in early summer.

Just look at my zone 6 garden photos from today in the latest Wordless Wednesday entry. Enjoy.      

I started writing this blog on a whim back in February as a means to document all that I do in my gardens. I had no preconceived notion as to where it was going and never mapped out where I wanted it to go. It was a harmless venture and a chance to show my friends and family that I actually knew what I was talking about when it came to plants and gardening. I also welcomed the chance to make them laugh.

It took a while, but eventually I figured out how to promote it to other gardeners. The thrill of reading those first comments will never leave me. They were inspiring, educational, warm and most of all, they energized me in a way I never anticipated.

Where am I going with this based on the title of the post? Allan Becker was one of those early readers who left comments and inspired me. He was obviously super educated in all things gardening and the fact that he took the time to read my nonsense and comment on it meant so much. His comments were heartfelt, full of great information and a sort of “push” to continue doing what I was doing. He has managed to stick along for the ride and finally one day recently, the idea hit me. Ask Allan to write a guest post here.

Well, he has graciously agreed to do so but before I get to that, a few words on Allan.

Allan Becker is a professional garden designer out of Montreal, Canada. He has been doing so since the 1960’s (sorry about the age reveal!) and today oversees the work of his young apprentices, passing on his knowledge to them all.

Allan blogs at http://allanbecker-gardenguru.squarespace.com/. I have been an avid reader of his site the past year and can tell you it is not to be missed. In fact, I’m sure you are reading it already but had to pass on to you all in case you were not reading it. Allan’s writing reminds me of a mentor sharing information in a humble way, knowing he enjoys passing on his years of experience to his readers. My favorite post of his to date, can be found by clicking here. It covers the argument of garden bloggers giving out advice and the role of garden bloggers as a whole.                     

One last comment before his guest post. I never expected Allan to write what he did below. I was not looking for any “props”. After reading the post, it really opened my eyes to the psychology behind my own blog and the approach I take to writing it. The post put a big old smile on my face this morning and I hope you enjoy it.              

Express Yourself!      
Allan Becker

Three mentors inspired me to garden. I met them all in the summer of my 17th birthday. That was the year that my parents moved my brother and I to a new home surrounded by many empty flower beds. The arrival of a new family on the street kindled some curiosity among the neighbors but most of it came from three gentlemen who were anxious to know what we intended to do with the empty beds.

My father had no interest in ornamental gardening. He wanted only to grow tomatoes and cucumbers. It surprised me that I was the far more willing participant in the neighbors’ zeal to fill our bed with flowers. It also fascinated me that, although the three men were not friends, they shared common traits. All were successful, hard working businessmen with a preference for gardening over golf; and all had children who did not demonstrate interest in their fathers’ hobbies. Each man was eager to invite me into his particular horticultural world and all of them were generous with the time they devoted to me. One neighbor, whose specialty was hardy perennials, taught me how to propagate plants. The second, wild about compost, instilled in me a love for richly amended soil. The third was a British émigré who introduced roses into our limited perennial assortment to create English-style gardens.

Although the three men shared a passion for gardening, none were able to express how they felt. This non-occurrence took place during the early 1960’s. Anyone who has been following the TV series Mad Men understands that, back then, men did not have a vocabulary for expressing how they felt about anything. Well, almost anything. We sure knew how to scream and bellow when our favorite athlete scored a goal or a touchdown. However, verbalizing a passion for gardening was not an integral part of any man’s lexicon. After all, this was a time when ecstatic public expressions were reserved for pre-teen girls watching Elvis Presley gyrate on television.

Nevertheless, any one paying close attention would notice that when these men spoke about gardening, their eyes would widen, their voices would quiver and wide grins would stretch across their faces. Unfortunately, while they were very successful in transmitting their gardening fervor to me, they were poor role models for teaching me how to communicate that enthusiasm to others. After all, how might a 17 year old boy reveal that his passion for gardening was almost as strong as his love for his girl friend?

Years later, when I began to blog about gardening, I discovered that I was handicapped, compare to most other writers. I had not yet found a comfortable way to describe how I felt without sounding over the top. Consequently, I avoided writing about how gardening touched me, deep inside. To communicate my emotions when describing plants, I resorted to using multiple adjectives, to stretching the boundaries of hyperbole, and to milking metaphors. And then, one day I discovered Jon Markowski’s blog and garden writing has never been the same for me.

It’s not important if John does or does not speak that way in every day life. What counts is that the ONG’s dialogue is an effective literary device. Where I live, his is a colloquial language usually spoken by an oafish, yet lovable television character that one only meets while watching a sit-com or reality show. I presume that in the actual world, people who do speak that way usually revert to proper English when they write. But not John’s ONG. This character stays in character in order to communicate with humorous, but powerful, feelings.

The way I see it, John has created a very endearing character who has given him the framework in which to express his own intense enthusiasm for gardening, without sounding sappy. He is realistic without being over dramatic. Instead of hyperbole or metaphors, we read humorous dialogue. The message is delivered by a stereotype who, in mainstream culture, is the most unlikely person in the world to ever take up gardening. Yet, this character says it like it is. There is no misunderstanding the passion about gardening that he delivers.

With the very first post that I read, the ONG disarmed me by demonstrating that it is possible to wear one’s heart on one’s sleeve without attracting ridicule. His honesty became a powerful drug for me, and now I eagerly check my Reader, every day, looking for his newest blog. In the end, I have become more candid when writing my own postings. A warmer, friendlier style is trying to emerge from my keyboard and when it does, I enjoy every liberating moment.

Coincidentally, John discovered my blog, as well. Eventually, he wrote some nice things about me. Attached to his words has been the noun mentor. I am profoundly moved by this honor because I never set out to earn it and doubt that I have ever before deserved it. What an ironic situation this has turned out to be. I have been gardening for at least 50 years longer than John; I’ll bet that I am old enough to be his father. Yet, in the art of expressing one’s passion about gardening, unashamedly and with candor, I am proud to reveal that, unknown to him, John has become my mentor. And this has occurred in cyberspace between two people who have never met and have never spoken. As the persona of the ONG might say, “Go figure!”

I pride myself on being quite the cynic. It is in my blood and I view the world through cynically colored glasses.

So, we set off a week ago for the “happiest place on Earth” “where dreams come true”

I was prepared to put my critic’s hat on and see right through all of the positivity nonsense. I imagined taking a swing at one of the character’s when no one was looking. Or maybe throwing a rock at one of the dolls on the Small World ride. But then I sipped the “kool-aid” and my perspective began to change.

We arrived at our hotel and the kids immediately changed into their Halloween costumes.

We then headed out to Downtown Disney, via a scenic riverboat ride, and the kids were beginning to grasp the scale of it all. It was a special moment to watch. Maybe I can remain cynical but enjoy Disney through their eyes.

    

It was a bit chaotic but how can you complain when the kids are scoring chocolate from the Ghirardelli store.

We were up the next morning at the crack of dawn so we could make it to Magic Kingdom for the pomp and circumstance of their park opening. My thought, “Holy %$^&, this is going to be a rough week if we are going to keep up this pace.” We arrived on schedule and the place was all decked out Halloween style.     

Fine, it was an impressive display. And that is when I started to grasp the immense attention to detail Disney prides itself on.

I should inform you now that my wife had this trip planned out and researched like nothing I’ve ever seen. From the hotel choice, transportation throughout the week, lunch and dinner choices, which rides were the best and which were overrated, which shows to attend when and which parks to attend on which days. But the absolute greatest decision of all, was to rent a double stroller.      

I was hesitant to put my 8 year old son in a stroller as it seemed a bit “soft” but that absolutely saved us. The kids were never wiped out and it was easy to keep an eye on them at all times. We may have battle wounds from pushing it around all week but if they weren’t complaining, it was a good time for all.

We hit up all the rides     

I forgot how much I enjoyed roller coasters and fast rides. I have to admit I “felt like a kid again” and it was a great father/son bonding experience lying to my son that the rides weren’t that fast or that scary. I look forward to watching my son lie to his son. 

I always found the Disney characters to be overrated and silly. It is just a bunch of lazy kids who don’t want to get a real job and are secretly harboring resentment against the world as they run around with those fake smiles on. But then I saw my daughter’s excitement when she saw her favorite character, Minnie Mouse, and all those thoughts were set aside.

I

We hit up Epcot another day and did the tour of all the “countries”. Initially, I scoffed at these fake countries as a weak imitation of the real thing. But again, I got sucked in and enjoyed the hell out of it.
 

Food from all over the world and public drinking? I am so there. The food was off the charts but I must admit we enjoyed the non food portion the most. 

Halfway through the tour, we got hit with a deluge of rain so we had to cut it short. Maybe that is a good thing. A drunk adult at Disney isn’t a pretty sight. Plus, more of a reason to go back, sans children, in the future.

Another day was a stop at Animal Kingdom which had the most character of all the Disney parks (is it possible to say anything in Disney had “character”?)

The safari tour there was incredible and all of the animals were out in full effect.    

Our final night was fireworks at the Magic Kingdom which, as expected, were above and beyond anything we’ve seen before.  

It was all over and I would do it all over again, except eating another Disney inspired dessert

Looking back, there were three things that stood out for me:

1. The attention to detail  – from the characters on the rides, to the way the lines were mapped out was unbelievable. They truly have thought of everything.
2. Customer service – simply world class and even for all of us cynics out there, you can’t deny how enjoyable they make every facet of your experience.
3. Family – we managed to spend an entire week together without losing our minds. The kids have memories they will cherish forever and their ages couldn’t be more perfect than they are now. I would love to push the “pause” button now and not let them age any further.

And just to prove that my wife and I actually spent some time together during the trip, I give you visual proof of both of us.    

Thanks for reading through this long read!
ONG

That title really is a misnomer, it should be a Mrs. ONG Halloween. Truth be told, I don’t do a damn thing to prepare for, or during the actual day of Halloween.

I may help the kids cross the street while trick or treating and I may help the kids make fair trades with each other once they have collected all their candy on Halloween night. Other than that, not much more from me.

This year we started a tradition of a Halloween dinner for the kids. It starts with a viewing of the legendary and never matched “The Great Pumpkin” 

The house is decked out Halloween style, some stuff purchased, some of the kids stuff (with only the best making the cut; some times they make crap, let’s not pull punches here).   

Then there is the dinner:

My wife claims it was no big deal and promises bigger and better next year. The kids loved it and I may have loved it even more. Kids don’t forget days like this.

I attempted (key word is attempted) to set up the next event, the pumpkin carving. I figured we would lay out a few blankets in the garage, get some garbage bags, get our carving tools and we would be in business. Here is how it went:

• Blanket unfurled and covered in stink bugs.
• My first attempt to cut off the top of the pumpkin resulted in an incredibly uneven line and I basically cut the poor guy in half.
• Kids get bored because, let’s face it, they can’t really carve unless we make the proper plans for an emergency room visit.
• They knock down tools in the garage while bored, we yell, they want to help more, we say no, they go inside and my wife and I are responsible to complete the task.

We eventually got through it, lit some candles inside the pumpkins, cleaned up and called it a night. The only good photo I could manage was this one:
           

My wife did that one and also carved a bat in another. They looked good.

Mine. Not so much. Pay close attention to the top of the pumpkin, I can’t even hide how poorly I carved the top. A sad, sad effort indeed. 

Happy Halloween
ONG