peepers!!!!Posted by madgardener_ETN Z7 SE TN (My Page) on Tue, Mar 2, 04 at
Since I wrote last about me peepers and last started this thread, the
fallow land eastward of me is literally bristling with the echoing love
songs of my many peepers with their "com'on baby, lets make tadpoles" songs.
The rains we got all day yesterday coupled with all the spring like
temperatures was efficient in scrubbing all signs of snow from the land. The
spring madness has started showing it's signs in me. Lying not quite
dormant, I felt the fevers stir in me like the Peepers in the surrounding
land and purchased little pots of over-blown purple crocus, two little pots
of Te-te narcissus and three pots of waxing Blue Harmony iris reticulata
when I got off work yesterday.
Once home, I plugged these into "bare" spots in the western end of my
front raised fairy garden. I KNOW better. These are not "bare" spots, but I
figured it would be a nice return next year when things are died back and my
eyes are craving color. ANY COLOR. I almost killed myself turning around
when I thought I spotted ORANGE and it turned out to be the nursery tape I
had tied around my Bruce triploid daylily to identify it to dig up a piece
and share with a friend in Maine last year.
I don't regret sharing the little piece, but Bruce once again showed
me that he absolutely resents being disturbed. Six years ago I decided to
divide his hefty clump and he rewarded my folly with performing like a
pissed off drag queen in a Broadway play. Horribly. And without vigor. I
don't even know if the division survived where I planted it. the remaining
piece resides on the eastern end trying to overcome my happiness at sharing
Everywhere there are streams of little pointy green tongues of
daylilies. I now realize that I should plant the twice blooming irises in
some of the "bare" spots between the daylily tongues. (I'll do that today,
it's sunny and glorious outside)
Clumps of tri-foliate foot looking leaves of Heliopsis. Lemon Queen to
be precise. And a stark reminder that I am insane for planting a red Rhody
in the southern exposed bed, with the logic that it'd be sheltered by the
southern sun when my Joe Pye emerges. It's bud tight, I don't have the heart
to move it............... Hopefully the spring sunshine won't fry it and
after it blossoms for me and you all hear the gasps of admiration from me, I
will gently lift her and place her in a better spot with a more shady
position where she can flourish without fear of sun scald on her delicate
So when I got home today, I filled up the new National Geographic
glass and copper- holds 4.5 pounds of seed- bird feeder and hung it with the
other 9 feeders and 6 thistle socks (forgot to put the suet in the cages,
I'll do that tomorrow......) grabbed the bags of bright grape colored,
oversized crocuses, the almost blinding yellow teeny daffs, and the deep sky
blue iris reticulata's and in my desire to add more to the quietly exploding
raised beds, I located the red bulb trowel a dear friend gave me last fall,
and tucked in one instant clump of purple with bright yellow stamens in the
black soil..................... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh eye gratification.
Searched the soil and paid particular attention to any signs of
monarda or yarrow or whatever as I picked another random spot and plunked in
some deep sky blue soldiers. ahhhhhhhhhhhhh I almost heard fairies clapping
in delight as I grabbed another pot, turned it over and gently popped the
root bound mass out. It was the crocuses. I carefully teased the tender
roots that grew in a circle, out a bit and chunked another hole and plopped
another over-sized mass of almost unbelievable sized crocuses in and firmed
them in. Not even a need for watering since the steady soaking rains all day
had left the raised beds not wet, but damp.
These beds drain quickly.
A cleared spot against the weigelia trellis that the weigelia has
abandoned and that shelters a single petaled kerria japonica that is intent
on wandering where it wants to and an ambitious Sweet Autumn clematis who
will hopefully take the place of the weigelia has been cleaned of almost
every thread and fishing line vinca major clump. I know I haven't rid it of
them all, but the now black, rich soil could use other things. So against
the red timbers I placed the best pot of Te-Te narcissus. Already I see
signs of the return of a good pale pink summer phlox that blooms from April
until September, and this is the year I cut it back by half to see if it
gives me more flowers but not seven foot tall.......
Way too many tongues of my Quanzo daylily remind me that I can
structure a few other plants in with the daylilies if I move quickly. Those
asters would be nice-----in my haste and need for a spot after I lifted them
from Mary Emma's gardens where they'd reseeded themselves in her yard, I
brought them, in their girth of soil and root and stem and out of sheer
desperation, I chunked a hole OUTSIDE the edge of my south facing far
western end bed in front of the weigelia. Plugged the asters into the
holes, then took limbs of pawlonia and lined them against the edges of the
asters to define the extended bed. I knew it was a temporairy solution, but
the asters didn't miss a lick or note and wowed me with such vigor and
flower production, it was impossible for me to think about a relocation in a
better spot. The fairies had fooled me again..........blinded me with garden
madness inspiration and folly. Unforseeable, not thinking about the future
effects ?logic?. I never do. I never think about how the plants will
respond or react to where I plug them. It usually works with the help of the
fairies tweeking and nurturing. If it's not in the right spot, they have an
outstanding bloom party and bloom themselves to death and dissolve on me and
the fairies point out my mistake and placement and I plant someone else in
If it's an almost happy plant, it might reseed for me before
dissolving, but that's not often.
Around me, the sounds of the peepers and birds fighting over the seeds
I put out fills the not quiet air. sorting the sounds is interesting, but my
mind is distracted with planting at the moment. The sounds are like filler
for my obsession.
I spot another place to plug in the third purple crocus pot, and move
to a place lacking in shoots and plant the third pot of blue reticulata.
Only two yellow pots of Te-te's, those are rationed. I have larger, old
fashioned yellow early birds. Heads heavy with the rains and the snow, they
defiantly opened up more blossoms today.
As I gathered up the bag and empty pots, I started looking and I
laughed with the fairies. In every perennial pot I've placed along the
front, I saw teeny little purple pods. Or a little white one. Or a yellow
with burgandy stripes since they're closed. The little crocuses I planted
last fall are starting to peek out from all the forgotten and hidden places.
And the long boxes haven't even gotten cranked up yet!
Black dirt under fingernails, I washed the trowel off in the smelly
fountain water (not so bad since the snows and rains have "freshened" it up)
and put the tool back in my bursting garden tool trung.
Back to the car, get the two bags of greensand out, the organic plant
food and the cantaloupe sized Elephant ear bulb that must weigh 5 pounds and
the split leaf philodendrum for $5.
Stand and listen to the peepers one more time before I go back into
the nook door to where Sugar and Rose are waiting for me, upset that I was
outside without them. Sugar inside, because she dug up my shade garden
Sunday and I haven't found out who she destroyed. If the Blue Egnima salvia
is alright, she'll be spared. She got the crate and a sound butt whupping
when I discovered her gaping hole. she WILL learn......
Inside I go to the sink with the faucet that has a perfect spray that
blasts the dirt from under my fingernails that I won't let husband change
out. It's my sink. Since it's a two sink bathroom and the left one is the
one that has the awesome pressure, he knows not to mess with the little
aereator, or the faucet.
Spring is close. The peepers attest to that fact very well. And there
are yet more new members to the bulb family for my fairies to tend to.
thanks for letting me share this magical moment with you.
madgardener up on the ridge, back in Fairy Holler, overlooking English
Mountain in Eastern Tennessee, zone 7, Sunset zone 36