By early June I finally got some of the perennials into the new front garden: a few Penny Mac hydrangea, three Garden Sun climing roses, french lavender, sedum and a smattering of other things.
The grass was coming up on the driveway through the burlap John and I laid last month so I removed it and delighted in the first green to grace that area for a long long time.
In the back, the hydrangea along the fence were blooming--amazingly I had only killed 4 out of the 13 the fall before with the homemade baking soda concoction. So I replaced those with new Endless Summers and enjoyed the blue blooms that would probably only last for this season. I tried a sulfur mixture to acidify the soil but the year-old transplants came up pink this year anyway. John's dad suggested I bury copper wire or rusty nails to blue them, which I might try sometime.
I also planted several flats of pink impatiens by the back steps, which did well last season there in mostly shade.
In the one corner of the back that gets a smattering of sun I laid out plans for an herb garden backed with clematis, and I planted seven tomatoes, all started from seed by my neighbors and given to me last month, some bell peppers, a mystery pepper and a cucumber plant in the vegetable patch.
At the end of the month, the Shasta daisies were starting to bloom. On a nice morning I was clearing weeds from around some Kansas-grown hostas that I had transplanted from my Mom's yard when I was startled by a baby deer (who seemed just as startled by me). Deer are common garden guests in this part of the Hudson Highlands but I live in the middle of town on a small fenced lot near a busy road so I don't ever see them. It was unclear how long this little guy had been there or where he came from. He apparently had been separated from his mother and was clearly scared. As he tried several times unsuccessfully to jump the 4 foot fence in the rear and then ran in circles around the patio, I tried, just as unsuccessfully, to get a hold of animal rescue. But by the time I returned outside, he had disappeared. No dead body in the street, no clues about his point of exit. He was just gone.
The Norway maple over the barn began to turn yellow, signaling the end of the season. My tomatoes were still producing plenty of fruit, even now as the weather turned cool. Striped zebras and sungolds filled bags and bags. Next year I'll plant less, and perhaps different varieties since the CSA farm we have a share in harvests these same kinds.
Storm King mountain across the river from us slowly acquired burnished hues as well, as winter was fast approaching. I left the leaves where they fell in the beds as mulch, raked the ones on the grass into the compost pile and began looking for wood for our first fires of the season.
