Tag Archives: perennials

The chilly season and hideous pj’s

Being cold begins to feel like an existential state. Grey day after grey day dampens the mood.

Fortunately, the plants don’t seem to mind. Up they come.



Except the newly-installed petunias. It appears that the rabbits have been dining on them.

A shed arrives Monday  — meaning we will be moving the last of the shade lovers from its proposed corner out back. I’ve already moved: ostrich ferns, comfry, anemone, and sedum. Some days, it’s just been too cold. But a sign that the gardening season is (finally) upon us: yesterday morning at 6:20, I ‘found myself’ outside completely absorbed in gardening. There I was moving rogue perennials around, turning the soil, and potting up a few things for my sister without having bothered to change out of my pj’s and slippers. 

These were not my usual black stretchy things that could pass for pants in a pinch. These were cheap plaid red & green flannels dotted with some nameless breed of puppy — absolutely hideous pj’s in other words, made of a cloth so awful you’d pass it by even if it was marked down to $2.00 at the Christmas Tree Shoppe (need I say these were purchased online?)



What are the most embarrassing clothes you’ve made an appearance in? 

(There WERE people out and about, in case you’re wondering). 

How does your garden grow?

How lovely to fight solar glare at drop-off today!  It’s a real circus, drop-off is.  Students coming and going, lugging backpacks, strutting their uggs (girls), nearly losing their pants (boys), drivers pausing, then not pausing, inserting themselves, waiting, then not waiting, the U driveway, the crosswalks, the parking lots, left and right — it’s a big ole mess, and not the least bit so because many behind the wheel are brand new drivers (and teenagers, to boot).  So, when you add blinding sun, it is always a cause for caution and concern.

But, today I said, “Yippee”, because who can’t use a little sun at this point?!

Raking recently, I made an interesting find.  Not a soccer ball or hockey puck — though I find plenty of those.  In fact, I have long maintained that the thing I grow best are balls (GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER).  I refer, here, not to my male progeny, or my own lizard brain’s tendency toward aggression, but to the propensity for all manner of recreational balls to land in my perennial beds.  Baseballs and whiffle balls from my baseball-crazy neighbor, soccer balls from my boys and two kitty-corner neighbors, kick balls that crossed two fences from the schoolyard behind us, tennis balls from god-knows-where, and lacrosse balls, which can be blue, yellow, or white.


And, as trees have ‘drip zones’, I have long been aware that D.’s second-story window has a ‘launch zone’, in which I am STILL uncovering various objects like Playmobil pirates, Legos, and things so wrapped in duct tape I have no idea what they are.


But, imagine my surprise when I unearthed C.’s missing RETAINER in the beds by the driveway!!!  It has since been replaced (at a cost I won’t reveal because I don’t want to lose my breakfast), but nevertheless, it truly felt like the boys’-toy-garden-turned-treasure-trove and surely will go down in family lore, along with the story of K.’s father going through reams of garbage to find HIS lost retainer some 40 years ago.

Off to work we go

rail-with-pots

The jack hammering I was soooo grateful was over, is not (four doors down, audible even with all the windows closed)  So, off to work I go — to this site, where I will try not to slip as I dig and try not to send too many pots tumbling down to the road as I go.

I have filled several empty perennial pots with rocks already — confirming that old saying that the best thing we grow in New England is rock!  (well, alright, maybe it’s a saying that I made up — but it OUGHT to be an old saying).

In the back of this property, the garden I installed last year grew so well and so fast, that I am adding extra inches between these pots!