Peonies transplants are happy

With the house I inherited two stunning peony plants that someone must have planted long ago. After I cleared out all the trees and sumac and other weeds out of the overgrown back beds in the spring of 2007, several hidden treasures emerged the following spring including these, which bloomed profusely even though they were partially buried under a stone wall (photo from May 31 2008):

To make way for the rest of my vegetable bed that I planned for this season, last fall I moved this peony to the front where it would get more sun and divided its neighbor--moving half to the upper bed where it might get a little less sun but hopefully will still bloom--and half to the front. I've read that it may take a few years after moving for them to bloom again, but today I spotted three little buds on the large one. It is really shooting up this month:

April 10th.

April 16th.

Today.

The smaller one I divided shows no signs of budding but is growing well:

Early tulips blooming

Seems the voles didn't eat all the front tulips after all. I'm amazed that the little war I waged with peanut butter and mouse traps actually worked. By April 19, the Salmon and Pink Impressions in the front were all blooming and the yellow climbing roses were leafing out behind them.

Daffodils too...



And today...

Roses emerging

All 5 ramblers and three yellow climbers made it through the winter ok. I lost one of the tallest canes from the rose on the bay window to canker as well as a few tips but most looked healthy and were budding up by the end of March. For some reason most of the leaves were still clinging on to the yellow climbers so I stripped them off in March to prevent the new shoots from contracting anything they are harboring. The Nantucket rose on the front west corner and the one in the protected space between the bay window and the stoop were fully leafed out and growing by April 2. The rest were budding.

Early Spring

Well, winter finally seems to be in actual retreat. The chindoxia was blooming on April 2. The front tulips that I planted last fall survived several freezes in March and a late snowfall and were up 3 or 4 inches at the beginning of the month. The snow-in-the-summer seems to have never gone dormant all winter and is taking over the west side of the front wall. The hydrangea are starting to emerge, although the front three only from the base. Perhaps they needed some protection this winter?

history-March 2009

It was evident that spring was coming early this year by John's birthday in the first days of March. The weather broke from the 30s and 40s to a balmy 60 on that weekend and we were able to actually sit and eat outside on the patio when his family came over the celebrate. Wes and Anna built a fairy house on the table out of pine cones and sticks and several of the yellow crocuses that had just opened up that week.



My mom stopped in on her way back from a trip to Maryland on March 14 and helped me dig a new bed for spring greens. We amended it with two wheelbarrows of compost and plugged the dug up grass into the area that the tomatoes had overgrown and killed last fall. I also dug under the patch of winter rye that I planted at the end of last October and let it decompose--readying the bed for the beets and cucumbers I'll plant in it this year. In the potting room under lights I started a tray of tomatoes--brandywine, striped german and an F-1 cherry hybrid early this month along with a tray of several different kinds of beets--forono, yellow tall, red early.
On a trip to Nantucket to surprise Jareb on his 30th, we took a quick walk on the cliff and I checked in on my inspiration roses.


This row of boxwoods and climbing roses on the front of a Siasconset reminded me of England--although a bit more modern and crisp.

Jareb, Vika and baby Fiona at Sanford Farm.

Around Ritik's birthday toward the end of the month he and John and I flew out to San Francisco to surprise our ex-Brooklyn crowd. It snowed the day we left home, but in the Bay area the jasmine was blooming and the weather was so warm that people were in bathing suits in Dolores Park. The end of winter was always the greenest time out there. I was struck by some grass growing on a boulder under the Golden Gate bridge.

history-January 2009

Christmas and New Year's were such a whirlwind this year I hardly took any pictures of anything. We split time between John's family and my sister's houses, then to Nantucket and then to D.C. on New Year's day. Home for a day, we then were off on a planned trip to England to see friends and to Italy for a workshop sponsored by the fellowship group I'm working under this year. The garden was happily ignored under a blanket of snow and ice that seemed to have lasted on the ground the entire time we were gone.

Our friends Jerome and Nicki live in the English countryside near Bath. They have the most beautiful little garden--truly England itself has the most stunning cottage gardens I've ever seen, even in January. Their boxwoods and standards seem always neatly trimmed, and the hills are always lush and green. They even have government subsidized vegetable gardens (which they call "allotments") that provide ordinary citizens their own little plot of dirt to dig in, if they wish. Jerome just acquired a share around the corner from his house this season, and I'm looking forward to visiting next time to see how it is progressing.

On to London to visit Robin and Maria. There the weather was decidedly colder and right after we left they even had several inches of snow. The natural parts of the city landscape looked similar to NYC at this time of year--mostly dormant deciduous trees. At the Tate Modern, a post-apocolyptic sculpture garden of sorts was growing in the atrium, complete with empty metal bunk beds, giant cat skeletons and other structures. I was impressed by a display of smashed silverware hanging knee-height from threads in a gallery upstairs.


On to Italy at the end of the month, where cypress and olive trees mingled with antique statuary in the gardens of NYU's villa in the foothills of Florence where we were gracefully put up. We visited Harvard's Villa i Tatti while we were there one day, and were given tea and a wonderful tour of the lemonaria and beautfully landscaped grounds. I studied in Florence nearly 10 years ago and hadn't been back since, so this was a wonderful respite in the middle of winter.


The grounds at the Villa i Tatti.

Forsythia being trained in an arch over two graves at the old English cemetery in the middle of Florence where Elizabeth Barrett Browning is buried. The grounds sit on a mound of earth in the middle of a giant traffic circle and are tended by a nun who was once married and finishing a dissertation on EBB at Berkeley. She was really an amazing character, living in a little shed i the middle of the cemetery in the middle of a traffic circle along with a family of Roma people she had taken in and taught to read in exchange for their work on the grounds.


We finally returned from our travels at the end of the month with the promise of ice and cold and perhaps a few more fires (and most importantly own bed) waiting for us. It was nearly February, and the Hudson had completely frozen over in our absence. I snapped a few photos on my phone before it all melted away.

history-November 2008

In early July, I planted the three Nantucket rose starts that had come through the rooting ordeal along with two "Super Dorothy" ramblers that I got from an heirloom propagator. One of each went on either side of the cedar arch John had built this spring (super D to the left, Nantucket to the right in this photo). I planted the others in front, hoping they would climb downspouts and someday overtake the house. By November, as Obama's numbers were climbing so were they.

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.