A Small Garden in the Sky

There's an enormous garden centre just behind us - on the hill between the 3rd Century Church of Santa Agnese and the Mausoleum of Constanza. Simone, who runs the place for her father-in-law, and her husband have helped us choose plants for the balcony. She and young Thomas (5 years old and already fascinated by plants) came by today to repot and train some new flowering vines. Thomas watered them all and earned 2 euros for his work - an honest day's work deserves and honest day's pay.



Between Betty Jean's contributions (including a wonderful chamomile tree) and Simone's choices the balcony is starting to look like a real Roman terrace.

08 Settembre – Nativita Beata Vergine

Come Into the Garden, Maud - VI

The first rose of summer:

Come Into the Garden, Maud - V

The clematis at the side of the family room has always been a heavy bloomer but the one on the deck has never once had so much as a bud. I hadn't realized they could be so temperamental.


Four years ago the honeysuckle vine was a pathetic twig but this year has been its most spectacular - sort of imagine it in the next few years surrounding the door.

For the first time neither of the peonies has a single bloom; by this time they should have been loaded down with ants, a few sticky buds and gigantic pink-white blooms. Maybe I should have divided them last fall?

Come Into the Garden, Maud - IV

I have absolutely no idea what these flowers are. They are dotted throughout the garden and bloom for a week or two.


They are quite lovely and in full bloom first thing in the morning when the sun hits them, but....

... towards sunset they close up and become this little pea pods.

Just wondering if anyone knows what they are; Lynette I can normally count on you to refresh my fading memory on things floral.

Come into the garden, Maud - III

These Japanese Iris were part of Fred and Lori's purple-blue design. Again because I didn't split them last fall they are not blooming as profusely as in previous years.

This thistle sprang up early in the spring amongst the ferns and hostas by the house. I should have pulled it up then and now that it's grown I'm rather fond of it. So, like the random strawberry plants and the odd raspberry cane it will stay for now.

And speaking of strawberry plants I find this a rather attractive edging for the deck. Who knows I may even get a few berries for my cereal one morning.

Come Into the Garden, Maud - II (contd)

I'm intrigued by the cluster of tubes, the lily-pad-like leaves around the flowers and the oval-shaped leaves on the rest of the vine. I find the whole combination fascinating.

Come Into the Garden, Maud - II

I mentioned on the weekend that the honeysuckle vine would become a show of orange flowers and by Sunday afternoon it certainly had. The computer desk is beside the door and I've been blogging to a background of the buzz of honey bees and the odd bass drone of a fat bumblebee.

Come Into the Garden, Maud* - I

When we first arrived at the house there was only two stalks of columbines - now they have self-seeded and are scattered around the yard. They just seem to pop-up anywhere - which is fine with me.

*Come into the garden, Maud,
For the black bat, night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone ;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,
And the musk of the rose is blown.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson - 1895

I'm Going to Chuck Some Wood Alright!

I don't remember the name of this little beauty if, indeed, I ever knew it. It starts out as a small green pine cone-like bud and then flowers into this blue star burst with feather-like petals. It is really quite lovely and I had at least twenty in one area of the yard.

You will notice the use of the past tense. I came out to do the morning inspection yesterday and found:

One single bud was left and there may be one struggling to break out. All the other stems had been sheared off. The same thing had happened to my Butterfly flower by the side of the house.

And the cause would be:

This well-fed, furry little bastard is one of two groundhogs (woodchucks) we have sharing our backyard. One lives under the shed and the other under the deck. Up to now we have all cohabited without major incident - though there has been the odd territorial squabble within the rodent community. This is the first time they have ever inflicted any sort of damage on the garden. The lawn is over-planted with clover - a great alternative to grass and grub-resistant (you're gardening tip for today)- and I thought they were happy munching that.

Now comes the question: What to do about the little buggers?

Spring Has Sprung - VII

I've been neglecting the garden lately - no in reality but virtually i.e. I haven't posted any recent shots of what's been flourishing in the back yard. Lori and Fred - the previous owners - worked hard to create a typical English garden with something in bloom from early spring to the autumn. Working with shades of green and purple, blue and yellow perennials and the odd splash of red or orange they gave us something that I have enjoyed over the past four years. Hopefully the new owners will find as much pleasure in it as we did.

In the next day or two this honeysuckle vine will be a mass of orange flowers and the hummingbirds should be around dipping into the tubes. Oddly it has no scent - I thought honeysuckle always had a perfume.

The ostrich ferns pretty much take over the back fence and are a great background for the bed of hosta, day lilies, periwinkle and bishop's scourge

In other years this bed of lemon-scented geraniums was a mass of purple-pink blooms but I didn't divide it last fall. The scent is still incredible on a warm summer night.

This old honeysuckle bush definitely has a scent and last night after a wild thunderstorm it radiated through the garden.

I always love the iris beds we had around the house when I was a kid - here I have these beautiful purple ones, some yellow that are just coming into bud and Japanese iris that will bloom in the next few weeks.

Spring Has Sprung - VI

I realize I have become a trifle obsessive about the garden - perhaps it's because I know at the end of July I will turn it over to other people to care for.

A colleague asked me why, if the house was sold, would I waste my time working in the garden?

Good question. Possible answers:

• Pride - damned if I'll turn over the garden in a sorry state to its new owners.
• I enjoy it.
• Plants are living things that, like all living things, need care and nurturing.
• It keeps me off the wild streets of Aylmer!
  

Lynette (Big Ass Belle) was asking what the pretty variegated ground cover was on a previous post. I knew it as Bishop's Scourge but it is commonly known as Bishop's Wort or Gout wort. Lovely but invasive - I've needed a machete to cut it back the odd time. But it is still a spectacular ground cover for the ferns, hostas and day lilies.

There are several types of Bleeding Hearts - I believe the low, spreading one is a Japanese variety. The two by the shed have become a good size in the past four years.

When the house was built back in 1885 the kitchen garden was where part of the family room and deck are now. Most of the back was vegetable and fruit gardens (there's an aerial photo from the '40s in the City Archives showing the garden and fields down to the river bank.) Every year the remnants of the strawberry and raspberry patches spring up. I just leave them - they bring extra colour and life to the garden.

Spring Has Sprung - V - Trilliums

We were always told as kids that it was illegal to take a trillium out of its natural setting in Ontario. According to the Wikipedia entry this is not the case though it is the law in a few States of the Union and Provinces of the Confederation. Though it may not be against the law, picking or transplanting a trillium can cause permanent damage or arrest growth. It takes a plant fifteen years to reach the flowering stage and if a flower is picked chances are the plant won't bloom for another seven years. The seeds are disseminated in a strange way - in ant excrement (see the link above for an explanation, I found it fascinating.)

I do not know how the three in the corner of our garden got there but they have bloomed the four springs we've lived in the house so I can only assume they've been here for at least eleven years. This is the first year they have been so predominant and I only wish there were more of them. Maybe if those ants get busy the new owners will end up with a glorious ungrowth of white in the spring.

Shortly the entire back of the yard will be covered with a jungle of ostrich plume ferns - at last count there were 51 of them - and the trillims will be hidden as the flowers fade. That back bed is wonderful come early July - shades of green and white with the odd flash of yellow, blue or purple: periwinkle, hostas, day lilies, ostrich ferns and even the accursed Bishop's Scourge.

Spring Has Sprung - IV - May 4, 2007

Conversation the first spring we were in the house - April 2003:
Laurent: Oh look at those blue flowers. They've bloomed over night.
Me: Yeah, very pretty.
Laurent: What do you call them?
Me: Fred and Mildred.
Laurent: No seriously, they must have a name.
Me: Damned if I know.

And I call myself a Gardener!

Spring Has Sprung - III - April 30, 2007

An ostrich fern is starting to send fronds out. There are 30 of them in the back flower bed - its a wonderful display.

My miniature Turkish tulips did survive!!!!

A touch of pink amongst the green from the very fragrant hyacinths.

When I was a kid - back in the forest primeval - they told us it was illegal to take trillium from the wild and transplant them in a garden. Something about it being the Provincial Flower in Ontario - but hey we live in Québec

A friend who immigrated from Egypt was overwhelmed by the shades of green when he first came to this country.

This is probably the last garden I will ever own; I am finding that realization hard to process.