It wasn't too late, after all

Daffodil 'Grand Soleil d'Or'

Another bulb update: all of those fall-planted bulbs that I forgot about until after frost hit last year have definitely made it through. The daffodils are gorgeous-- having gone through something like 150 bulbs last fall, I still finding myself wishing I'd planted more. The alliums are up to eighteen inches, and the crown imperials, having just broken ground last week, are already vying to catch up to them in height.

The only slight disappointment has been the Snake's Head Fritillaries (Fritillaria meleagris)-- it looks like a few of them aren't going to sprout. I'll probably want to move them around at the end of the season, after they've bloomed. I'm still really looking forward to flowers from the plants that made it-- we saw some in bloom at the tulip festival (in a sunnier bed) and it made me even more anxious to see them in my own garden.

Besides the new additions, previous years' plantings have reappeared, notably Tulipa greigii 'Toronto,' one of my favorites. 'Salome,' one of the first daffodils I planted, has mostly disappeared except for one persistent bulb that has been the only one to pop up for the last two years running.

The cherry tree looks as if it will bloom this week, coinciding, as usual, with the beginning of rhubarb season. This weekend is my usual planting-out date, but the seedlings in the sun room aren't quite ready for prime time, having been started later than usual.

Not too late, though. Anyway, this has been another fairly late spring (like last year), so it will all even out in the end.*

--
* - "Eventually, I believe, everything evens out. Long ago an asteroid hit our planet and killed our dinosaurs. But in the future, maybe we'll go to another planet and kill their dinosaurs." --Jack Handey

Vacation's over!

Primroses

It feels like I've hardly had time to think about gardening this past winter-- this is the first year that I've approached a gardening season feeling completely unprepared. It's not that the usual winter tasks didn't get accomplished. Seeds have been ordered, pots have been bleached and cleaned, potting mix has been purchased in abundance. But somehow, I'm adrift. Maybe it's a sort of gardening mid-life crisis? I guess spring will tell.

Last year's garden: a post-mortem:

• The radicchio finally formed loose heads! There is still quite a bit of it in the garden, as the husband does not share my enthusiasm for its bitterness.
  
  
• The pumpkins never ripened fully, and started to rot. If you can imagine 75 pounds' worth of partly-mushy pumpkins leaking their slimy orange pumpkin guts all over the lawn-- well, as much as I wanted those pumpkins, it was pretty funny.
  
  
• Remember those bulbs that I forgot to plant on time last year? So far, the daffodils, at least, are coming up just fine. The fritillarias haven't popped up yet, but I'm definitely seeing some alliums. Happily, 'Splendid Cornelia,' the hyacinth that I forced last winter, has also come up in its new home in a patio container. It may edge out the daffodils as first bulb to bloom this year.

Early-spring gardening:

• We've had a couple of weeks of beautiful weather, and as a result, the second giant clump of rhubarb has finally been divided. Three of the seven resulting clumps were adopted by a co-worker; two more are still looking for homes. I also have several French sorrel plants in search of a new home.
  
  
• Sweet peas and snow peas have been planted on time! I ordered particular sweet peas from a particular vendor this year and was really looking forward to them, and they somehow lost my order! So the replacement sweet pea seeds that I ended up grabbing at the store are some standard variety, but I'm really looking forward to the snow peas, which are a new-to-me variety called 'Carouby de Maussane.'
  
  
• Meet my very first orchid! It's an oncidium, probably 'Sweet Sugar.' So far, it's been in flower for about a month. If I can keep it alive, there's another oncidium that I have my eye on.
  
  
• I will spare you the introduction to my first David Austen rose, as it is currently nekkid (in a bare-root sort of way). I'm planning on acquiring one more, but I've got to find a place for it, first. One of my 2008 garden resolutions is to take better care of the roses this year. I've armed myself with horticultural oil, fungicide, and a fresh bottle of pyrethrin, but already have a nagging suspicion that it will take more work and more chemicals than I can stomach.
  
  
• The Northwest Flower & Garden Show has come and gone. It was my first year attending this huge PNW garden event. A few photos are posted here. The show featured dozens and dozens of plant vendors. I, of course, walked out with nothing but more frakking dahlia tubers :-/
  
  
• Finally, to explain the photo of the day: I did not grow these primroses. They came from the local nursery. However, I am attempting to stratify three flats' worth of primrose seed this year. Last year, my wintersown container of primroses was one of only two failures, so I've divided my containers into three separate batches and will try different methods to get the seeds to germinate. These aren't just any primroses, by the way-- they are mostly species auriculas, along with a batch of candelabra primroses. This task may prove to be beyond my skill level, but if even one of my three trial groups yields plants, I'll be thrilled.

Bullet-point posts are always random and exhausting, aren't they? Well, I'm sorry to unload all of that in one post, but it was time to get the blog all caught up. The 2008 growing season has arrived, and experience is beginning to teach me that there will not be time to wax nostalgic over past moments once things start taking off!

Diurnality (or: August and Everything After)

The cucumber stands alone

One of the sad facts about gardening in the Pacific Northwest is that while the days turn gloriously long in the weeks leading up to the summer solstice, our precious hours of sunlight decrease rapidly over July and August. Right now, I'm harvesting crazy amounts of vegetables, but everything seems to be losing its lushness. As soon as I remove a few yellowing leaves from the tomatoes, twice as many spring back in their place.

My books reassure me that this is normal. I spent the last few summers agonizing over powdery mildew and decreasing productivity, but this year, I'm prepared to accept the inevitable. I water the garden, pluck out the ripe produce, bring it indoors, and then run back to pluck out the dead foliage and toss it into the yard waste bin (Would I throw powdery mildew into my compost pile? I think not).

Other observations:

1) Next year, I need to do more to keep my cucumbers and beans healthy-- although I have the right number of plants, they ended up shaded by the excess rhubarb, and they're just not producing very well.

2) The 'Tromboncino' squash vines, on the other hand, pumped out seven healthy squash. That number may sound low, considering that I had three plants, but one of those squash was thirty-two inches long!

3) 'Sunburst' pattypan has proven to be a consistent performer, as its AAS award would suggest; it's my third year growing it, and I always look forward to it (especially picked small, halved, steamed, and tossed with herb butter).

4) The okra never really materialized (I have six stunted plants and one okra pod so far), but that's in part because the plants were overshadowed by the PUMPKINS! By fall, it looks like I will have five of them, and I'm really excited. They're gorgeously shaped, exceedingly large, and look like they'll start turning orange any day now.

5) Twelve tomato plants for a family of two is really TOO MANY TOMATOES! I'm growing seven varieties this year, and plan to do a special "tomato wrap-up" post later in the season, once the Brandywines, Green Zebras, and San Marzanos have ripened.

P.S. My dahlia madness has not abated, and the blooms are really starting to come into season. Have a look at a couple of the latest bouquets: Spartacus & Ruskin Marigold; Mystery Day, Joycie, & Sean C.