We had a big wind yesterday, and the leaves are just about all off the white oak. The red oak is all brown but still full of leaves. It would be ok to go ahead and rake any day now.
The plan for the day includes putting up lights outside.
- iPhone uPdate
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
The Great Migration
The weather continues delightfully unseasonably warm, but I finally decided it is time to bring in the lemon trees and my few other tender plants. We've had light frosts on the car so far, but not a hard killing frost, and they have been doing fine but as always, I am pushing my luck. Time to make space and bring them all in.
Once upon a time, I had lots of tender perennials, elephant ears and cannas and bananas and a variety of palm trees. Space was always an issue. Now I'm down to two palms and three lemon trees, a sad little christmas cactus, and some parsley.
Remember the lemon trees ? The almost-dead but not quite lemon trees? They survived a fairly neglectful summer outside, leafed out nicely, and just came in. The two Meyer lemons seem set to bloom. They will have lights for the winter, still set up from last year. All I have to do is plug them in and set the timer.
I also have a couple of palm trees. One used to be very full, and became known as the "Cousin It" plant. Now, it is a mere shadow of its former shaggy glory, but is filling in with sprouts out of its base.
It has a smaller and younger cousin, that has truly been neglected. It dried up once, and from then on has not been able to drink properly, because water just ran down the gap at the sides of the pot and right out the bottom.
So in the spirit of tough love, I wrestled it out of the pot and added a bunch of new soil, packed it in, and soaked it. It's not clear Junior will survive, but it was definitely worth a try. I love the shape of this pot, but it's not very practical - the top is more narrow than the middle and so I had a hard time removing the plant plus root ball. Silly me, I put it back in the same pot.
Meantime, on the foliage front, the hickories are all shrivelled and brown, but the red oak has just come into its own. Autumn afternoons with the sun right behind it is the view from my living room window.
The oak leaf hydrangea also just keeps getting better. I don't get tired of looking at it.
Overall, the leaves are about half or less down on the ground. I think this upcoming Thanksgiving weekend is too soon to start the leaf cleanup, if I only want to do it once.
Once upon a time, I had lots of tender perennials, elephant ears and cannas and bananas and a variety of palm trees. Space was always an issue. Now I'm down to two palms and three lemon trees, a sad little christmas cactus, and some parsley.
Remember the lemon trees ? The almost-dead but not quite lemon trees? They survived a fairly neglectful summer outside, leafed out nicely, and just came in. The two Meyer lemons seem set to bloom. They will have lights for the winter, still set up from last year. All I have to do is plug them in and set the timer.
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| My winter plant managerie. |
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| Cousin It. |
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| Junior |
So in the spirit of tough love, I wrestled it out of the pot and added a bunch of new soil, packed it in, and soaked it. It's not clear Junior will survive, but it was definitely worth a try. I love the shape of this pot, but it's not very practical - the top is more narrow than the middle and so I had a hard time removing the plant plus root ball. Silly me, I put it back in the same pot.
Meantime, on the foliage front, the hickories are all shrivelled and brown, but the red oak has just come into its own. Autumn afternoons with the sun right behind it is the view from my living room window.
Overall, the leaves are about half or less down on the ground. I think this upcoming Thanksgiving weekend is too soon to start the leaf cleanup, if I only want to do it once.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Time Change
I won't see the yard after work until March now, but it's almost light after the gym. I have cleaning up to do, but with no rain for a few days the leaves continue to cling and change.
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iPhone uPdate
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| Mapleleaf Viburnum |
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| White oak and Asters |
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| Winterberries |
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| Chasmathium latifolia |
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| Red oak family, but scarlet oak? black oak? pin oak? |
iPhone uPdate
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Foliage Colors
Here are photos to go with the verbal description from the previous post.
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| Blueberries |
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| Dogwood |
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| Small evergreen groundcover: Ginger |
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| Shadbush or Serviceberry: Amelanchier |
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| Hickories. I am told this is "school bus yellow" |
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| This shows the hickories in context i.e. with oaks |
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| White Oak |
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| Oak leaf Hydrangea |
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| Mapleleaf Viburnum |
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| More mapleleaf viburnum - note the berries. Truly an outstanding plant for looks and wildlife value both. |
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Falling Colors
Out the front door colors may be at their peak, but a storm came through last night and many more leaves are down than before.
The ash is completely bare. It had some nice orange before it was down. The scrub oak is green tinged with brown- the dead leaves will be there through March. Next to it, the native hickory (must nail down species) is yellow, while in front of it the shagbark hickory is more greenish yellow. Greener still is the Carolina silverbell. Back towards the street the arrowroot viburnum is mostly still green, and the large red oak is solidly green. The redbud is a nice yellow with a huge number of dark brown seed pods. The white oak is green, orange and brown- all leaves still on. The beleaguered pagoda dogwood has lost most of its leaves.
GTG
- iPhone uPdate
The ash is completely bare. It had some nice orange before it was down. The scrub oak is green tinged with brown- the dead leaves will be there through March. Next to it, the native hickory (must nail down species) is yellow, while in front of it the shagbark hickory is more greenish yellow. Greener still is the Carolina silverbell. Back towards the street the arrowroot viburnum is mostly still green, and the large red oak is solidly green. The redbud is a nice yellow with a huge number of dark brown seed pods. The white oak is green, orange and brown- all leaves still on. The beleaguered pagoda dogwood has lost most of its leaves.
On the other side of the front walk, the dogwood is dark red, the serviceberry is orange, and the oakleaf hydrangea is rainbowing from green to orange to purple to brown.
GTG
- iPhone uPdate
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Cutting the Grass
For the first time in months I cut the grass. I raked it up into a giant mound, onto a tarp, and dragged it next to the compost heap. I laboriously dug it into the uncomposted part of the heap, but still ended up with a big heap on top. In a couple of weeks there should be brown leaves to pile on top of that so it should cook over the winter.
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Monday, October 11, 2010
Are Buckets of Rain Better Than None?
)The rain has been erratic this year. Mostly it has felt like a drought, but the data says that cumulatively, we've had as much precipitation this year as last. But its come down in monsoons, tropical storm aftermaths, not the steady accumulation that lets it soak in. The lastest data:
We missed the critical big rains in May and June, caught up with a deluge in August, then had essentially no rain for five weeks again until Nicole came through in September (incidentally ending up in my basement).
I assume some rain, and cumulative totals adding up, is better than no rain at all. I hope upcountry, rain from deluges is being trapped in forests and ponds and not all rolling down into the rivers at once. Around here, the trend is to rain gardens, and try to retard the rush of water rather than speed it on its way. I've certainly done my part in my yard (not counting the basement, which mostly ends up back into the drains) though there is more to be done.
I can imagine a line from a depression-era agriculture-based novel, "The rains came late this year, and came in devastating downpours when they came." I am told upstate Maryland has declared an agricultural disaster area and is providing assistance to the farmers. Is this a sign of the increasing volatility in weather we can expect from here on out as the climate continues to change?
We missed the critical big rains in May and June, caught up with a deluge in August, then had essentially no rain for five weeks again until Nicole came through in September (incidentally ending up in my basement).
I assume some rain, and cumulative totals adding up, is better than no rain at all. I hope upcountry, rain from deluges is being trapped in forests and ponds and not all rolling down into the rivers at once. Around here, the trend is to rain gardens, and try to retard the rush of water rather than speed it on its way. I've certainly done my part in my yard (not counting the basement, which mostly ends up back into the drains) though there is more to be done.
I can imagine a line from a depression-era agriculture-based novel, "The rains came late this year, and came in devastating downpours when they came." I am told upstate Maryland has declared an agricultural disaster area and is providing assistance to the farmers. Is this a sign of the increasing volatility in weather we can expect from here on out as the climate continues to change?
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Blooming Now: It's Fall!
We had the tail end of a tropical storm this week - over five inches total I hear - and a lot of it ended up in my basement. But a lot helped out the plants as well.
It's clearly autumn, and the colors of autumn are everywhere, including my yard. I've got mums and goldenrod and asters and ageratum, along with the weeds everywhere. I spent a good three hours in the front yard, cleaning up branches from my self-pruning silver maple and my ancient white oak. I tossed the wood into a pile at the edge of my yard, where it drops off to the neighbor's. I figure it will eventually decompose to make a berm (I'll pile leaves on it later) and in the mean time, it keeps the mailman and even the deer from using that pathway.
I'm mostly still coasting on things done in years past.
I bought these mums at Loews for about $2 each a couple of years ago. I actually bought 5 each of four colors, but these are what have survived. This year, I recognized them coming up and pinched them off several times before the 4th of July, as you are supposed to do. Hooray for previous investments paying off!
It's clearly autumn, and the colors of autumn are everywhere, including my yard. I've got mums and goldenrod and asters and ageratum, along with the weeds everywhere. I spent a good three hours in the front yard, cleaning up branches from my self-pruning silver maple and my ancient white oak. I tossed the wood into a pile at the edge of my yard, where it drops off to the neighbor's. I figure it will eventually decompose to make a berm (I'll pile leaves on it later) and in the mean time, it keeps the mailman and even the deer from using that pathway.
I'm mostly still coasting on things done in years past.
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| Mums Oct 2010 |
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Even an hour makes a difference
I finally buckled down this afternoon, between grocery shopping, soccer, cooking, and laundry, and spent about ninety minutes working in the yard. Because I focused everything in a small area, its very visible. I pulled back the horrible morning glory vines from the back quarter - again - and filled three bags with virginia day flower, that seemed to have hit optimal conditions this year.
Today was simply beautiful, and I've got to spend more time cleaning up, because the rank weeds are causing permanent damage to the good stuff around them.
Meanwhile, in the front, here's a beautiful Joe Pye seedhead in the dappled shade under the oak.
And another picture of those black-eyed susans that just won't quit.
And my yellow yucca, which has bugs and spiders and stress and spots from damp.
Today was simply beautiful, and I've got to spend more time cleaning up, because the rank weeds are causing permanent damage to the good stuff around them.
Meanwhile, in the front, here's a beautiful Joe Pye seedhead in the dappled shade under the oak.
And another picture of those black-eyed susans that just won't quit.
And my yellow yucca, which has bugs and spiders and stress and spots from damp.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Back to the Garden: Still Blooming
Let's just pretend August didn't happen, OK? I didn't lift a finger in the garden, and it shows it. I've been coasting all year, and eventually it will start to show.
But I'm coasting from a good place, and I've got a lot of stuff blooming. The view from the corner isn't that impressive.
But the close-ups and vignettes tell a different story.
The chewed-on pink turtleheads are very typical of the wilted and motheaten look of my garden. I'm actually pleased to find out the turtleheads are appetizing to somebody. They are a critical food to a number of beautiful butterflies, and a large part of why I planted them is to be dinner in a time of need.
But I'm coasting from a good place, and I've got a lot of stuff blooming. The view from the corner isn't that impressive.
But the close-ups and vignettes tell a different story.
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| Balloon Flower |
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| Black Eyed Susans - I don't remember planting these! |
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| Goldenrods with Verbena bonerensis in the background. All volunteers. |
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| Sunflower |
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| Pink Turtleheads |
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Blooming Now: July Color
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| Perovskia - Russian Sage |
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| Campanula |
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| Ironweed |
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| Some black-eyed susan that seeded itself about |
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| Coreopsis |
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| Phlox - not fading! |
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| Clematis (Roguchi) |
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| This clematis just keeps on going! |
Stealing a Couple of Minutes Requires Focus
So I went outside carrying a couple of cardboard boxes to recycle them and was struck by the wall of heat and sun that is today's weather. "Oh my!", I thought, "I'd better water some stuff, in spite of the recent rains. Just as soon as I carry in all the cans from the curb." As I carried in the blue recycling tub, I thought to go get the rest of the boxes from the basement, but I steeled myself to go water instead.
A few minutes spent with the hose allowed a closer contemplation of the weed stricken mess that is my garden this year. A volunteer tomato was towering over my box of yellow flowers. I deliberately skipped the tomatoes this year, in an effort to rotate away from the persistent fungii and diseases that plague tomatoes in this climate, so that had to come out. I grabbed the yard waste can and tossed in the tomato, and then kept going in that side bed. That was full sun, and brutal even at 10 a.m. However, I had noted during my watering that most of the corner by the street was still in shade, and every day when I come up the road I wince at the weeds that have proliferated there. Weeding that corner was actually on my list of necessary tasks, so I dragged the can along out to the street.
I've planted thick daylilies along the north side, and they have successfully out-competed just about everything else; the weeds start where they peter out. The things that have really taken off there include the cardinal flower vine with its wispy foliage and hummingbird magnet scarlet flowers. I planted it a few years ago, and it has successfully seeded itself around, and by October it could overwhelm everything else on the corner if I allowed it. It's from Mexico, and I'm surprised it's hardy enough to survive. I'm ambivalent about it - so I pull it out some places and not others, and so it will never be gone.
Other things that come out always are sweet clover and lambs quarters. There are a few mulberry trees that are easy to get when they are this small. There are many miscellaneous grasses, and they don't belong in that section. There weren't many dandelions, but there were a couple of baby english ivies, and there are some things I'm not sure of. I have planted only sparsely there, and it's a very harsh environment. My big box store chrysanthemums are thriving and I actually pinched them several times by the fourth of July, when it's time to stop pinching. Volunteers I leave include Verbena bonarensis, and Salvia lyrata, which I planted elsewhere and which have moved themselves there via seeds.
I moved systematically around the corner. I think of the weeds as moisture thieves, and so when I can't get the roots I think its never-the-less worthwhile to pull off the above ground vegetative mass. When I was done, the can was nearly full and things looked only marginally tidier. From a short distance away, before it looked like a solid if untidy mass of green. Now it looks like a sparser untidy mass of green. But when I'm close enough to distinguish what I am looking at, as the confusion resolves itself in my brain to individual plants of known kind, it makes me much happier to see good plants and to not see bad plants.
A full hour later, with sweat pouring down my face, I decided it was long overdue to take pictures. As I watered and looked at some details earlier, I was surprised to see more blooms than the impression from a casual distant view. I put the weed can away and went in. "Wait, maybe I should grab those boxes from the basement now...". Danger! About to lose focus! "No, pictures now, but I have to wash my hands before I grab the camera." Blessed cold water! "Look at the dirt on my face, maybe I should should grab a quick shower before taking pictures?" NO. "My goodness, salty sweat is rolling into my eyes, maybe I need some serious energy drinks?" Just a quick glass of water from the tap in the kitchen, and then off to grab the camera. Once I'm outside with the camera in my hand, lean over to pluck a weed I missed before. "Danger! I'm about to sucked back into the vortex. Focus. Literally. Get that camera up to your eye and see what you can see." Once I've started taking pictures, I'm good for many before a distraction can drive me in a different direction.
So I got a small amount of long overdue weeding, and a little bit of documentation done. I had to fight off several different distractions, but I got it done!
A few minutes spent with the hose allowed a closer contemplation of the weed stricken mess that is my garden this year. A volunteer tomato was towering over my box of yellow flowers. I deliberately skipped the tomatoes this year, in an effort to rotate away from the persistent fungii and diseases that plague tomatoes in this climate, so that had to come out. I grabbed the yard waste can and tossed in the tomato, and then kept going in that side bed. That was full sun, and brutal even at 10 a.m. However, I had noted during my watering that most of the corner by the street was still in shade, and every day when I come up the road I wince at the weeds that have proliferated there. Weeding that corner was actually on my list of necessary tasks, so I dragged the can along out to the street.
I've planted thick daylilies along the north side, and they have successfully out-competed just about everything else; the weeds start where they peter out. The things that have really taken off there include the cardinal flower vine with its wispy foliage and hummingbird magnet scarlet flowers. I planted it a few years ago, and it has successfully seeded itself around, and by October it could overwhelm everything else on the corner if I allowed it. It's from Mexico, and I'm surprised it's hardy enough to survive. I'm ambivalent about it - so I pull it out some places and not others, and so it will never be gone.
Other things that come out always are sweet clover and lambs quarters. There are a few mulberry trees that are easy to get when they are this small. There are many miscellaneous grasses, and they don't belong in that section. There weren't many dandelions, but there were a couple of baby english ivies, and there are some things I'm not sure of. I have planted only sparsely there, and it's a very harsh environment. My big box store chrysanthemums are thriving and I actually pinched them several times by the fourth of July, when it's time to stop pinching. Volunteers I leave include Verbena bonarensis, and Salvia lyrata, which I planted elsewhere and which have moved themselves there via seeds.
I moved systematically around the corner. I think of the weeds as moisture thieves, and so when I can't get the roots I think its never-the-less worthwhile to pull off the above ground vegetative mass. When I was done, the can was nearly full and things looked only marginally tidier. From a short distance away, before it looked like a solid if untidy mass of green. Now it looks like a sparser untidy mass of green. But when I'm close enough to distinguish what I am looking at, as the confusion resolves itself in my brain to individual plants of known kind, it makes me much happier to see good plants and to not see bad plants.
A full hour later, with sweat pouring down my face, I decided it was long overdue to take pictures. As I watered and looked at some details earlier, I was surprised to see more blooms than the impression from a casual distant view. I put the weed can away and went in. "Wait, maybe I should grab those boxes from the basement now...". Danger! About to lose focus! "No, pictures now, but I have to wash my hands before I grab the camera." Blessed cold water! "Look at the dirt on my face, maybe I should should grab a quick shower before taking pictures?" NO. "My goodness, salty sweat is rolling into my eyes, maybe I need some serious energy drinks?" Just a quick glass of water from the tap in the kitchen, and then off to grab the camera. Once I'm outside with the camera in my hand, lean over to pluck a weed I missed before. "Danger! I'm about to sucked back into the vortex. Focus. Literally. Get that camera up to your eye and see what you can see." Once I've started taking pictures, I'm good for many before a distraction can drive me in a different direction.
So I got a small amount of long overdue weeding, and a little bit of documentation done. I had to fight off several different distractions, but I got it done!
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
How Dry is It?
We've just had a relatively wet week, but we've been running way behind in the rainfall department. I'm very interested in how there are clearly two distinct rainfall patterns - this year and 2007 are similar, while 2008 and 2009 were similar in the crucial month of June.
It's running up towards my bedtime now so I'm not going to analyze this further. It just means I really do need to water the trees, which need to make up the shortfall.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Dry
I woke up to the beginnings of the most lovely gentle rain. I turned off the air conditioner and opened the windows to the welcome smells and sounds. I can just imagine all the plants and critters feeling the first drops, having the dust and pollution start to run off, the first moisture rests on top of the soil and beads up, starts to pile up, until it slowly starts to soak in to the hard surface. With this gentle build up, much more is going to soak in versus run off.
It's been dry, dry, dry, turning crispy out, so this is the best thing possible. It has also been brutally hot, though this last week of record setting triple digits was not as humid as it often is with the heat. It last rained three weeks ago, over an inch in ninety minutes, and this is so much better because more of it will be retained. According to the radar from the Weather Underground, it's likely to last a while and this is good. I ordinarily would complain that if its only going to rain two days a month, it shouldn't be on Saturday, but the truth is we need it so badly and I have only chores planned for the weekend anyway.
With the dry, stress is apparent all over. I keep a bird bath full of water, and it draws more than just birds. The constant parade of wildlife drives the dog nuts, which she expresses loudly and continually. The crispiness has driven the deer up out of the creek into my yard, at least three times in the last week. The first time, coming home around ten pm, I noticed my sunflowers by the street had been chomped off at the top, and discovered the miscreant still in the woodland part of my yard, though she turned and sauntered away insouciantly as I approached. Next, a couple of days later, the big hosta had been munched off, and I checked the apples - all the high up ones were gone, but not the lower level ones. When I came home Thursday night, as I drove up the street a deer was by my copper trellis, probably aiming at the rose bush right there. I rolled the window down and pulled right up to the edge and yelled "shoo". The deer, which had been just standing there, moved back a few feet and continued to watch me. I parked, and came around from the corner so as to drive the deer back towards the creek. "Shoo" I called (trying to balance the noise to scare the deer but not make my neighbors look). The deer reluctantly moved a few steps. Having just seen on YouTube a deer trample a dog, I was a little cautious approaching this big guy. I shook my keys to make noise, and that did the trick. She ran to the woodland, and as I continued to approach with "Shoo" and keys jangling, she finally took off to the creek. Charismatic mega-fauna my aunt sally!
I haven't watered the yard because I haven't been around enough. When I was around over the fourth of July weekend, we were on water restrictions and not allowed, due to a water main break. I was going to do it today, had the rain not come. Hooray for the rain!
Other wildlife notes: we saw a fox on Piney Branch road around midnight on July 1. They are still rare enough to note. This was a big guy, probably as tall or taller than my dog, but very much skinnier. I think a grey fox. I slowed to look closely and verify it was NOT a coyote. I assume all coyotes look like Charlie and this was clearly a fox - tiny chest.
Last night we had homemade blueberry pie, from the more than five cups of blueberries we picked from the one bush I'd covered with a net!
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Idea: Wire Greek Columns
Saw these at the Glen Burnie house in Winchester, Virginia, today. I think they would go well chez moi- must search for source.
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Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Baby Birds
A couple of evenings ago, I saw my dog with her ears up, perky, focused on something on the ground in front of her. It was a familiar stance, and it meant she was playing with wildlife. I went out hoping it wasn't another rat, and was surprised to see it was a bird. A not-quite-dead bird. Yuck. I looked around, and found a clearly baby and clearly dead bird nearby on the ground. My birdhouse was open, and the English sparrow nest had spilled out and there was bird poop everywhere. I dealt with the two birds (the second was motionless and limp by the time I picked it up, hopefully dead) and left the nest for the next day.
Yesterday morning, Abbey pranced by the window with a bird in her mouth, held by one wing. She set it down, and approached and backed off several times having a lot of fun. I went out there, and again it was a newly dead English sparrow, again disposed of before it got ripe enough for her to roll in it.
This morning, as I went in the back, I heard the familiar but unexpected chorus of "cheep cheep cheep cheep cheep" that indicated babies were about to be fed. I checked out the box that formerly held the English sparrow nest and there was no sound or activity there. As I cast about, a female cardinal appeared in the shadbush along the back fence and the cheeping ceased. Aha!
I had hosted cardinals before, in Chicago, so I knew what to look for. I approached cautiously, and peered into the thicket. There was the nest, with what looked like two beaks at least. In my photography days, I would have been out there with tripod and all trying for the best angle and a remote setup to get mama feeding. Now, life is too busy so here I am just writing about it.
Yesterday morning, Abbey pranced by the window with a bird in her mouth, held by one wing. She set it down, and approached and backed off several times having a lot of fun. I went out there, and again it was a newly dead English sparrow, again disposed of before it got ripe enough for her to roll in it.
This morning, as I went in the back, I heard the familiar but unexpected chorus of "cheep cheep cheep cheep cheep" that indicated babies were about to be fed. I checked out the box that formerly held the English sparrow nest and there was no sound or activity there. As I cast about, a female cardinal appeared in the shadbush along the back fence and the cheeping ceased. Aha!
I had hosted cardinals before, in Chicago, so I knew what to look for. I approached cautiously, and peered into the thicket. There was the nest, with what looked like two beaks at least. In my photography days, I would have been out there with tripod and all trying for the best angle and a remote setup to get mama feeding. Now, life is too busy so here I am just writing about it.
Fighting the Weeds
Things are getting dry in the garden, but several of my more noxious weeds continue to thrive. Earlier, I cut back the trumpet creeper along the side street, and sprayed the remnants. That held it back for a while, but now its up and thriving again. So again today, I cut and sprayed RoundUp on it, hoping to kill what I imagine is a giant and thriving root system.
A couple of years ago, a volunteer tree showed up that I never positively identified. I thought "sumac" when I looked at it, but it was all bristly and spiky along the stem. It grew in two years to over six feet tall, and I decided last summer that if it did NOT have good fall color (as sumacs should) it was a goner. Sadly (for it), the green compound leaves turned a blah shade of yellow and just kind of faded away. So this spring, I got the heavy duty loppers and cut off the two inch diameter trunk near ground level.
But now I've got new sprouts coming up in a four foot radius from where I cut the main trunk! What is this thing? How can I get rid of it? I mowed it off about three weeks ago, but its up again and thriving. So this morning I sprayed and sprayed it. We'll see what happens. I can see I'm going to have to get out the book and figure out what I'm dealing with. I scrolled through the digital archives, and it appears I never took a picture of the original tree - probably because it wasn't worth it, not so attractive.
I also went after poison ivy today. This is a lovely native vine, with beautiful fall color and berries valuable for birds. However, I can't have it here because I am quite sensitive to it - I've had to have systemic steroids to fight it back, and it also often gets infected. So today I sprayed with RoundUp every place I saw it - three or four outbreaks in the front.
In May, I spent time fighting back the vines in my butterfly bush and in back of the house. Again, the mechanical removal allowed the underlying plants to thrive, but the ipomea vines are back and rampant once again. I didn't spray at all last time, so this time, with just a few additional minutes to spend, I went for it. It's hard to separate out the vines from what they are growing on, but I foamed away on some of the biggest clumps. Hopefully, I'm only getting the bad stuff, but we'll have to see.
A couple of years ago, a volunteer tree showed up that I never positively identified. I thought "sumac" when I looked at it, but it was all bristly and spiky along the stem. It grew in two years to over six feet tall, and I decided last summer that if it did NOT have good fall color (as sumacs should) it was a goner. Sadly (for it), the green compound leaves turned a blah shade of yellow and just kind of faded away. So this spring, I got the heavy duty loppers and cut off the two inch diameter trunk near ground level.
But now I've got new sprouts coming up in a four foot radius from where I cut the main trunk! What is this thing? How can I get rid of it? I mowed it off about three weeks ago, but its up again and thriving. So this morning I sprayed and sprayed it. We'll see what happens. I can see I'm going to have to get out the book and figure out what I'm dealing with. I scrolled through the digital archives, and it appears I never took a picture of the original tree - probably because it wasn't worth it, not so attractive.
I also went after poison ivy today. This is a lovely native vine, with beautiful fall color and berries valuable for birds. However, I can't have it here because I am quite sensitive to it - I've had to have systemic steroids to fight it back, and it also often gets infected. So today I sprayed with RoundUp every place I saw it - three or four outbreaks in the front.
In May, I spent time fighting back the vines in my butterfly bush and in back of the house. Again, the mechanical removal allowed the underlying plants to thrive, but the ipomea vines are back and rampant once again. I didn't spray at all last time, so this time, with just a few additional minutes to spend, I went for it. It's hard to separate out the vines from what they are growing on, but I foamed away on some of the biggest clumps. Hopefully, I'm only getting the bad stuff, but we'll have to see.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
The Bounty
Just harvested a whole cup of blueberries - the most I've ever been able to get. Usually the birds and squirrels eat them before I can get them - they seem to like them slightly less ripe than I do. I deployed a net over the most prolific bush, anchored to the ground, and it seems to be working. However, when I approached to harvest this evening, a couple of birds were extremely annoyed I was there - I think they had been working on the other, unprotected, bushes.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
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