Rosemary Redemption?

Here we go again...

I have wonderful friends. My friend Beth dropped off a Christmas tree shaped rosemary plant after reading the last post. Isn't she cool? Check out her blog: A Road to Faith.

So now I have this big beautiful rosemary.  I promised it that I would do my best to keep it alive and savor its loveliness in shepherd's pie, pot roast, stews, and soups. It's hanging in there. I'm not sure what sort of potting mix it's in, but the water runs straight through it. At some point in the next few days, I'm going to repot it in the potting soil we sell at work. It's lovely stuff with a wetting agent and we grow all our plants in it. Sadie the cat is intrigued by the rosemary, but has not nibbled too much. Will it survive the winter? We shall see.

I've Killed the Rosemary - AGAIN!

This happens every year. Whistling an optimistic tune, I pick up a rosemary plant or two from work and pot it up for the porch. We cook with it all summer, water it, make sure it's happy. Then comes fall. I tuck it closer to the house as frost threatens and it cheerfully puts out new growth. All is well, yes?  We love cooking with herbs, so the poor rosemary gets moved indoors as nights dip into the 30s. Wonderful! we think, it's stew season and rosemary is perfect! The poor bugger is doomed. Once the rosemary crosses the threshold it's days are numbered.

This year, though, I thought I could pull it off. We swapped bedrooms, so now the study is in the southeast corner and a nice sunny window is available for plants. Until the turtle came to stay for six weeks, that is. We enjoy babysitting the turtles, but one of them gets my sunny spot. The rosemary and it's basil pals were once again relegated to the back kitchen door/pantry.  They get plenty of sun there, but unfortunately, it's the back door. And as the main point of entry, it's drafty. All it took was one night when the chef left the door cracked as he was baking bread. We tried resuscitation, but, well, once again, I've killed the rosemary.

November Rain Can Be Beautiful

Curly willow in the rain

It's November in Chicagoland. The days are shorter, They're often grey with clouds, cold and just plain depressing. It has been excellent weather to hang out on the couch with a pot of tea, a book, and a cat. However, there's something magical about November rain. When the temperature is right - cold, but not freezing - rain seems to crystallize on branches. The drops remain suspended like a bead necklace. Evergreens are covered in a sheet of diamonds. So, even if the weather is crummy, Mother Nature still can be beautiful.

Autumn Gold

One of my favorite trees are ginkgos. I love their geisha-fan leaves, their upright stature, and their shimmering gold fall color. I am spoiled by having ginkgos generously planted in the parkways in my neighborhood. These tough, tolerant trees are perhaps at their best in fall. Those golden leaves will linger on the tree until a deep frost. Overnight, the tree drops almost all to form a liquid yellow carpet at its feet. It reminds me of an elegant lady stepping out of her party dress.

Roses are Good for You

Rosa glauca or red-leaved rose hips.

As they mature and darken they look like Milk Duds.

Roses. The classic flower, the pinnacle of elegance, the expression of love. We fuss over them, nurture them, and sometimes kill them.

I've talked to many people who feel that roses are impossible to grow and that they are one of the delicate darlings of the plant world. I beg to differ.  Of course, you have the prima donna - the tea rose. Yes, tea roses can be a major hassle.  There are clubs and societies to help you with that addiction.

The roses that live in my yard need to be tough buggers. I yanked out the tea roses that came with the house years ago in favor of low maintenance, easy going shrub roses. I have a love affair with my New Dawn climbers and Stanwell Perpetual shrubs. My Nearly Wild is toughing it out despite the bunnies and occasional Japanese beetle. My Sea Foam is thriving and grew, er, six FEET despite being cut back to six inches this spring. My cute little white Meidiland and dark pink Hansa rugosa are getting established. Have I killed roses? You betcha. Par for the course. I keep planting them anyway.

Now that November has descended in all its grey misery, one thing lighting up my life are rose hips. I don't generally dead head mine. They don't need it, and I like having happy little rose hips for winter interest. Eventually the wildlife will eat them, so everyone wins! You can even make a refreshing tea with them if you are so inclined. Rugosa roses are a favorite for their large hips, but pretty much any of the varieties will work. Not every rose will form hips, but many of them do. You do have to let the flowers fade and the ovaries mature, so back off with the pruners. Try a rose! You just might like it.

Trees Are Spooky

It's Halloween, one of my favorite holidays. I love the pagan nature of this evening and the opportunity to become someone else for a night. I adore ghost stories and especially those involving haunted trees. You know exactly which trees in your neighborhood are haunted. Your steps speed up when out walking the dog at night. You don't look too close for fear something is looking back at you.

So here's a spooky maple for All Hallows Eve.  Careful, now. It's watching you.

Bright Fall Color for a Grey Day

The maples have finally decided to turn.  Now I'm noticing freemanii-type maples in parkways, lawns, and parks. With their strong pyramidal shape and bright blue-red leaves, they pretty much leap off the grass and wave hello. Marmo and Autumn Blaze are two very very common cultivars.  We like these maples. They are easy to grow, they tolerate wet soils, they are pretty pest free and they grow like the proverbial weed. However, in light of elm and ash overplanting, I think they may also be too popular. Diversity makes the world a much more interesting place, don't you think?

Hill's oak makes a lovely crimson addition to the autumn landscape and grows surprisingly fast. The birds and squirrels will thank you for the acorns, too.

How can you not love a ginkgo? They are just beginning to turn. The pristine gold of a ginkgo is fleeting, so I try to really take a moment to savor those geisha fan leaves. Once temperatures fall below freezing, these trees will drop all their leaves in a night. For me, it's like a lady shedding her party dress to puddle around her feet.

I'm plotting how I can add more trees to my typical suburban-size yard. There's a spruce on the lot line that's fated for the chainsaw next March. I'm vacillating between conifers to replace it.  Hmmmm. There's still a patch of lawn in the far back. Do I really need a sunny perennial bed?