Order from Chaos

Tuesday dawned clear and dry and blessedly cool.  Thunderstorms are forecast for the rest of the week -- and house guests are forecast for the weekend -- so I took advantage of the fine weather to work in the garden. The corn needed thinning and hoeing; the cabbage and kale and broccoli, which were being ravaged by caterpillars, got sprayed with Bt; and the rest of the garden got hoed. 
 

Miss Susie Hutchins looked on in approval.

I came back in the late afternoon, after the box bed garden was in shadow to do more hoeing and weeding.

 And to pick some lettuce and herbs for our salad at supper.

Oops! I missed that Devil-in-the-Garden lurking in the lettuce. 

 But I was delighted to find some peppers just forming!

 

 And a bit puzzled by this enthusiastic volunteer -- pumpkin? Winter squash?

Time will tell.

There are even a few tomatoes! They kind of don't count since I bought it as a potted plant with small green fruit already on it. But still . . . pretty exciting!

 And by the end of the day I was stiff and sore and feeling rather aged -- but it feels so good to have the garden, momentarily at least, in some sort of order.

There's a theory that says that gardeners are trying to impose order on Nature's chaos -- mowing grass, pulling weeds, making things look just so. 

Could be . . .

There's another theory that says that people who read mysteries -- or crime fiction as they call it in the UK-- do so for the same reason -- to see order (Justice) prevail over chaos (Crime.)

Hmm . . . 

And speaking of mysteries -- no, I've not yet heard from Herself about the manuscript I sent her.  No news is good news . . . at least while I have so many things to get done around here!

 

Working on the List

I have a huge, multi-headed list of Things That Need To Be Done Around Here and one of those things was to re-pot all my potted plants.  It sounds a lady-like occupation that might involve a pot or two of ferns or African violets but the truth is otherwise. Some of my potted plants are twenty or even thirty years old  and some are too heavy for me to lift. 

Justin brought me this nice load of composted manure from our pasture and John helped to haul out the large ficus trees and the junipers from our deck. Everything got the treatment, from this rosemary to the huge bay bush to the calamondin and, yes, some ferns. 

This rosemary isn't nearly so rootbound as some poor junipers that had been in the same pots for six years.  I hacked and root-pruned mercilessly -- I just hope they all survive the treatment. I think they'll enjoy being able to stretch out a bit in this lovely new soil.

And speaking of lists, this quote from Robert Heinlein caught my eye when I was reading the weekly compendium of comments on A Word a Day.

A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.

Dang!

That's a pretty long list. I might manage a dozen -- and I know that John could do some that I couldn't. 

But plan an invasion? Hmmm. I'll have to work on that. Right after I learn how to program a computer and fight efficiently.

Iris Viewing

When my Japanese iris begins to open, I remember a college friend of mine telling me how, when she was visiting her family one summer (her father was an admiral, stationed in Japan,) she was taken to view the iris. It has always sounded like a wonderful way to spend a day.

I went exploring via Google to see if this custom endures and found the following: 

Within the heavily wooded grounds of the Meiji Jingu Shrine, you can indulge in the ancient pastime of iris viewing amid beautiful birdsong. Here, in the shrine's serene Inner Garden, meandering ponds have been planted with different varieties of irises, which burst into glorious displays of white, yellow and purple blossoms in the month of June. Irises were a favorite of Emperor Meiji and Empress Shoken. The practice of viewing the flowers was probably imported in ancient times from the Imperial Court of China. The blossoms are especially beautiful in early morning and late afternoon.

I love to imagine elegant kimono clad ladies  -- a rainbow of silks floating above the siken iris petals. Was there  samisen music? Were tea and sweet, soft daifuku served? Did the iris viewers compete to see who could compose the loveliest haiku? 

Ribbons of iris

Beneath the grey rain -- till the sun

Lifts them to the sky.

Here's an iris viewing experience from the Kamo Iris Nurseries in Japan -- just right for a virtual Sunday stroll . . .

GARDENS IN JAPAN: Kamo Iris Nurseries (Featured on October 31st,2005) 

Breaking News!!

Miss Susie Hutchins finally brought the car back. Neither she nor Maggie would say where they'd been.

With my book turned in and my writerly obligations over with for the moment, I'm taking time to smell the roses . . .

. . .  and work in the garden . . . where I met a charming young toad.

It's a pretty hectic schedule.

I actually watched TV last night for the first time in  . . . well, a very long time. Episode 1 of Foyle's War -- I loved it -- the settings, the clothes, the pace.

Ahhhh! Time to smell some more roses.  In a burst of wild dissipation, I may even watch episode 2 tonight

Castle me, Please

Chess pices?

Garden decoration?

Planters?

Your guess is as good as mine...but I really like them!!!

taken with my iPhone at Market Street.

At the Other End of the County

On Friday night we drove to the other end of the county to have dinner with friends. The early evening light was golden and we stopped along the way so I could take pictures . . .

My friend Louise has an amazing garden. Mid October and it's still brimming with greens.

. . . the flowers haven't given up either . . .

The interior of the workshop, where Louise makes willow baskets and the Country Workshops classes are held.

Here's a slide show of more pictures from our visit.

Weeding

Yesterday morning I worked to restore some kind of order to my box garden. (Beds in boxes, not, alas, bordered by boxwood -- the uber-traditional box garden. Someday, in another life, maybe I'll have one of those. And a dour Scots gardener with a staff to maintain it.)

It's been a fine summer with adequate rain for once and the weeds have prospered. No matter. I like weeding by hand -- it puts you down and close up with nature. It's a quiet, contemplative way to spend a morning -- and a good time to take a camera along.

Follow this link for pictures from my morning. And, for those of you who were reading my blog a year ago, no, there weren't any copperheads this time.

August Seen

You can hear the sound of contented munching . .





. . . as the cattle enjoy the lush salad bar of weeds and grass . . .


.










Eddie and Miss Susie Hutchins relax . . . and keep an eye on each other . . .

So much to see . . . sunflowers, red velvet okra,







So much to do . . .


. . . tomatoes and beans to pick . . .

watch a daddy-long-legs . . .

. . . and escape the sun beneath the river birches.

Around and About

. . . odds and ends from the past few days . . .

I'm still trying to get a picture of all four banty chicks but Mama hustles them indoors as soon as I point the camera their way.

They are feathering out and are beginning to need more space -- in the next few days, I believe, John plans to move the little family to Justin's chicken tractor, currently occupied by two banty hens.

When I was on my way to the grocery store a few days ago, I was stopped by an outbreak of two naughty calves. They had slipped under the fence and were out for an explore. The mother in the lower left corner is saying something like, "You better get back in here this minute!"

Fortunately, Justin and Claui were taking their dogs for a morning stroll (click on the picture to see what's happening) and quickly turned the bad babies back in with their mamas.

You can see that the calfies aren't a lick repentant and will probably get out again as soon as we move on.

The garden is coming along well -- squash plants are bigging up; tomatoes look good -- thanks to John who mulched them heavily. The broccoli, however, was so full of worms ( I know how well the bt stuff works -- but with all the rain we had, there wasn't a chance for the spray to get a foothold. When I plant more, I'll use row cover to protect them.) So yesterday I yanked out the wormy, buggy plants and gave them to the chickens -- who were delighted.

I'm trying to get out in the garden in the cool of the morning -- then spend my afternoon and evenings writing. Just now I'm back in 1887, with the DeVine sisters at the Mountain Park Hotel in Hot Springs, NC (formerly Warm Springs). I'll tell you more about the hotel (which unlike the DeVine sisters really existed) tomorrow.