Now...what did I plant there again?

One of the things I love about my garden in Minnesota, is that during the main growing seasons, there are such different things sprouting at different times of the year. Some plants have bright early spring blooms and then fade off, some come up in the spring, bloom in the heat of summer, and then fade as we move towards the fall. Some, like my rose bushes, continue to flower all season long, and surprise me with brilliant colors of magenta and pink during the cooler September and October temperatures. Still others have newly sprouted buds and are just about to bloom, like my perennial purple asters and the stonecrop in bright pink, waiting to turn to copper and then auburn... recently visited by bumblebees.

I have to hand it to the person who planned the perennials that sprout up for me now. What a treat to come outside and see color in bloom, not just in the changing colors of the leaves on the trees, but amongst the flowers in the front and corner gardens.

But what about those transplanted coralbells I mentioned back in July? http://secondhandyard.blogspot.com/2010/07/so-mulch-to-do.html
I hate to say it but I think they died. I just stopped watering them and I think they just shriveled up and died! Of course, I won't really know until I see if anything survived the winter and comes forth from beneath the mulch into the spring. I'm grateful for being able to check back on my posts to remember the progress I made last year, and even earlier this year.

I have completely neglected my garden this year...and these are the times that I am extremely grateful for good mulch techniques, wet rainy and hot summer weather, and sweet hardy perennials like hostas, ferns and hydrangea that simply continue to grow.

Hair cut

The city was doing some tree trimming this week, and one tree in our front yard sits right on the boulevard. City workers made a whole lot of noise at 7am, buzzing saws and chippers blaring. The twisted, sideways and simply overgrown branches of the ash in our front yard was heavily cut and logs tumbled to the ground. My only son, in his dinosaur pajamas, looked out the front window at the men and their machines making all that noise. He waved to the man with the electric saw who moved around in a cherry picker bucket attached to a truck...and the man waved back before continuing to trim the dangling branches.
After a few minutes of just looking and viewing the sight, my son crumpled himself up into a ball on the couch and began to weep, sob, and then cry out with gigantic tears.
"What's the matter?" I said. "They're killing our tree! I love that tree!!" he screamed, as his cheeks became soaked in salty sadness.
"Honey, they're not killing it. They're just trimming it. You know, like when you get a haircut. The tree just needs a little off the sides, and then it will not only look better, but it will be healthier so it can grow better. "
A still (but not very long) pause, and he looked at me with disbelief.
He looked out the window once again, and was thrilled by the wood chipper that turned the discarded limbs into mulch and dribbled some leftover leaves along the ground. He smiled. This was so interesting to my boy that he barely wanted to get dressed for kindergarten this day.
The tree got a haircut.