Finding Peace with the Natives

The last few mornings I have been on early morning chauffeuring duty for two of my grandchildren. I am not a morning person--I might get up early, but I'm not really functioning for a couple hours. But my daughter-in-law had to go on a business trip, and my son has to leave very early for his commute to work, so it was up to Grandma to be at their house by 6:30 AM to drive the children, one to preschool and one to daycare 15 miles away.

Friday morning after dropping both of them off, I made an impulsive decision to stop for a walk at a park I've passed many times, but have never taken the time to visit.


Meadowbrook Park is a relatively new park and is a popular spot for many in the community. My grandchildren consider it a treat to play on the elaborate play structure, which is usually filled with children on weekends. But another attraction of the park is its many trails for walking and jogging. My son, who began running marathons a few years ago, occasionally trains here. I wanted to walk, but I also wanted to see all the wildflowers along the trails.


I chose the path around the sculpture garden because it was the shortest--just short of a mile, which was about as far as I thought I could go at 7:30 in the morning without any caffeine yet. A longer trail winds around a prairie grass planting, and a short path encircles a wildflower garden, which unfortunately I didn't discover in time. I will definitely make plans to go back again to see both of these areas.

Walking across a small bridge to the beginning of the path, I was greeted by a field of tall grasses and wildflowers.

It was a perfect morning for a walk, comfortable temperatures and low humidity for the first time in many days. Rays of sunlight peeked through the trees and illuminated the tall flowers. The sounds of traffic faded into the distance, and I began to feel the stresses of the week melt away as I began my walk. My solitude was unbroken except for the occasional like-minded walker I met along the path. We exchanged pleasant "good mornings" without breaking stride.

The beginning of the paved walkway is sheltered on one side by trees and shrubs and on the other by masses of native plants. I stopped to admire many of the plants along the way. Although I could identify some, I wasn't able to identify others, even after checking out a few websites on prairie plants. These rudbeckia weren't difficult to identify, of course. A Midwest native plant, they are found in the wild as well as in cultivated gardens.

I wasn't sure about this plant, but its blooms looked like those of a bee balm. Sure enough, I did find this one in my source--Monarda fistulosa, or wild bergamot. These were at least four feet tall.

A prairie garden sounds appealing, doesn't it? No need to worry about weeds, color combinations, or artful arrangements of plants--just let nature do its work. Here the Monarda and Rudbeckia mingle together happily.

And what would a prairie be without my favorite, the purple coneflower! It popped up in many places along the path, seemingly happy to mingle with the other natives.

I don't know the botanical name of this plant, but I wouldn't use it if I knew--I much prefer its common name of Queen Anne's Lace. A native that is very common in any uncultivated area, it doesn't deserve being called a "weed."

As a child, I would often gather bouquets of this airy white flower.

Most people would definitely call this a weed, but I've always been rather partial to it. Try as I might, I could not find the botanical name of this plant. We always called this "chicory," but I think it is in the aster family. The true blue of its flowers was hard to capture in the bright early morning sun.

Blue is my favorite color, and it's not often you'll find a true blue and white combination like this one: Queen Anne's Lace and chicory.

This striking flower is one I've seen along roadsides for the first time this year. I'm pretty sure it is a variety of Helianthus, or sunflower, several varieties of which are native to this area. It rises above all the other prairie plants, reaching a height of 8 or 9 feet.

This plant has been correctly identified as a compass plant, Silphium Laciniatum. Thanks, Joyce!

A few bent plants enabled me to get a photo of their flowers. According to a website on Illinois wildflowers, the common name "compass flower" came from the belief by pioneers that the leaves pointed north-south. Apparently they're very common, but I've never noticed them until this year!

This plant is a mystery to me. Perhaps someone can identify it?

This plant, however, is no mystery! Growing up on a farm, I never learned how to drive a tractor, but one of my few farm-related chores every summer was to walk beans. For those of you lucky enough to not understand the term "walking beans," it means to literally walk up and down every row of beans, cutting down every weed in sight. This milkweed would have been chopped down immediately; to allow it to flower and go to seed would have meant a thicket of them the next year, choking out the crop of soybeans. Strange, but I never noticed its lovely lavender blossoms before. Milkweeds are a popular attraction for butterflies, but I didn't notice many butterflies on this walk, perhaps because it was too early in the morning. I did notice many bees, though, and at least one rabbit or other furry creature scurried into the undergrowth before I could catch more than a glimpse of it.

The far side of the park is bordered by a retirement "village." A large expanse of lawn and carefully tended shrubs face this area left for the wildlife. The grounds of the complex itself has many gardens; in fact, it was one of the gardens featured on the Garden Walk Beckie and I took in June, although we didn't have time to visit it then. I am told that residents who are able and wish to, help to maintain the gardens. I think when I am really, really old this might be the perfect place for me.

One final mystery plant. I noticed only a few specimens of this plant, and most were not near the edge of the walkway where I could photograph them. Unfortunately, the sun was so bright by this time that I couldn't see my viewfinder and didn't realize I'd cut off the top of the plant. The flowers are a bright magenta, and the foliage reminded me of some type of phlox, but I really don't know what it is.

I admit to total ignorance when it comes to modern art, especially sculpture, so I paid little attention to the works of art in the garden. I did like the curved, airy design of this piece, however. By this time I was on the last leg of the trail, a sidewalk bordering a busy four-lane street. The peaceful reverie I had fallen into during my walk was interrupted by the sounds of cars rushing past on their morning commute to work. I was thankful I wasn't part of that frenzy; perhaps some of them noticed me and wished they, too, had time to leisurely stroll among the wildflowers.

By the time I reached the small bridge leading back into the parking lot, I realized what a different mood I was in. I had just finished thirty minutes of exercise, but I had forgotten I was "working out." Instead, I had become so captivated by the sights, sounds, and smells around me that any worries or problems had completely left my mind. I felt refreshed and totally at peace.

I paused to look at the small stream below and thought of Wordsworth's reflections on the power of nature to change a person for the better.

I'll leave you today with a few lines from one of my all-time favorite poems, which Wordsworth wrote after a walking tour around the River Wye.

These beauteous forms...

....have not been to me

As is a landscape to a blind man's eye;

But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din

Of towns and cities, I have owed to them,

In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,

Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;

And passing even into my purer mind,

With tranquil restoration...

...While with an eye made quiet by the power

Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,

We see into the life of things.

---from "Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey"

ABC Wednesday: C is for...

...the Chicago Cubs, of course!

Before my daughter came home from Arizona for a short visit this past weekend, she requested that we go to a Cubs game one day while she was here. Being the wonderful mother that I am, I found three tickets, paying triple their face value, and planned our outing. We drove three hours to Chicago (plus another hour stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the Dan Ryan Expressway) just for the game on a very hot and muggy Friday. But as any Cubs fan will tell you, it was all worth it for the chance to make the pilgrimage to this shrine of Major League Baseball.

For anyone who is not a baseball fan, a little background is in order. The Chicago Cubs are known throughout baseball fandom as "The Lovable Losers." They have not been in the World Series since 1945 and have not won a World Series in 100 years. No other Major League baseball team can make this dubious claim to fame. Because of this dismal lack of success, many legends have arisen that have grown to mythic proportions. The most famous superstition involves the curse of the billy goat. According to this story, a diehard Cubs fan brought his pet goat to the ballpark in 1945. Near the end of the game, the fan was asked to leave because his goat "stank." As he left, he was heard to mutter, "The Cubs ain't gonna win no more. The Cubs will never win a World Series so long as the goat is not allowed in Wrigley Field." Sure enough, the Cubs lost the Series, and many Cubs fans believe the curse still exists.

That isn't the only story of superstition about the Cubs. Any fan my age or a little younger remembers all too well the collapse of the Cubs in 1969. The Cubs had a 9-game lead in the National League late in the season and looked to be a shoo-in for the World Series. But on September 9 of that year a black cat ran onto the field during an important game with the New York Mets. He circled around third baseman Ron Santo and ran off the field. The Cubs immediately went into a tailspin and eventually lost the pennant to the Mets.

Nearly every baseball fan, though, remembers the most recent evidence of the curse against Chicago. In 2003 the Cubs had one of the best pitching staffs in all of Major League baseball and were two wins away from reaching the World Series--finally. But in a playoff game against the Florida Marlins, a fan reached out to catch a foul ball that should have been caught by Cubs outfielder Moises Alou. The Marlins went on to score several runs and beat the Cubs, not only in that game, but the next, and went on to win the World Series, while the Cubs could only "wait until next year" once again. The hapless fan, Steve Bartman, became the most hated person in all of Chicago, and it is said he had to change his name and move away. In all honesty, I never thought his action caused the Cubs to lose the playoffs. But for many Cubs fans, his name has gone down in baseball folklore as further evidence of the curse.

This year marks the 100th anniversary of the Cubs' last World Series title, and since the pre-season the Cubs have been favored to win the pennant and possibly the World Series. So far, they have lived up to expectations, staying in first place in their division since the beginning of the season. My family watches nearly every Cub game on television, but there's nothing like a trip to see a live game, especially if this should be the year the Cubs actually win it all.

There are few places that symbolize the rich tradition of baseball like Wrigley Field. Built in 1914, it is the second oldest baseball stadium in the country. Did you know that Wrigley Field was the site for the famous "called shot" by Babe Ruth, when he supposedly pointed to an area in the outfield and hit a home run for a dying boy? The stadium has undergone a few changes over the years, the most notable one being the addition of lights in 1988. Before that time, the Cubs were the only team in baseball to play all their home games during the day. But other than the addition of lights, nothing has disturbed the historic appearance of the stadium. There are no food courts or swimming pools or trains in the outfield. There are few "bells and whistles"--while there are some small electronic scoreboards, the main scoreboard is still manned by someone who places the numbers by hand at the end of every half inning. Unlike other cities that build new billion-dollar stadiums every 20 years or so, Chicago's Wrigley Field has stood the test of time and represents baseball in its purest, original form.

Our seats on Friday were in the upper deck, but even then we had a good view of the playing field. The roof overhang provided us shelter from the sun, and the cool breeze blowing off Lake Michigan kept us comfortable.

One new addition outside the ballpark this year is this statue of Ernie Banks, known fondly to all Cub fans as "Mr. Cub." Ernie, now 77, played for the Cubs during the 50's and 60's, including the great '69 team. He epitomizes all that is good about baseball. The inscription on the statue reads "Let's play two!" This was one of Ernie's favorite sayings and represents his enthusiasm and love of the game. He was always ready to play another game. Unlike some of today's athletes, you wouldn't have found Ernie holding out during spring training for a higher salary, even though he undoubtedly made less in one year than most major leaguers make in one game today. I have vague memories of the first Cub game I ever attended as a young girl, but I do remember Ernie hitting at least two home runs on that day. He was an MVP twice and won many other awards, is on many records' lists, and was named to the Hall of Fame. His career 512 home runs all came without the benefit of steroids! Ernie came to the majors from the Negro Leagues and no doubt endured incidents of racial discrimination, yet no one remembers him complaining. His cheerful optimism and genuine love of baseball have endeared him to all baseball fans, not just Cubs fans.

My father, who will soon turn 83, has been a Cub fan all his life and often says, "It's not easy being a Cub fan." How true! It takes a special person to be a Cub fan. A true Cub fan is loyal, as evidenced by one of the best attendance records in the Major Leagues, no matter whether the team is winning or losing. Cub fans cheer for great plays and give standing ovations to players who have given their all in a game. They have even been known to give standing ovations to opposing players who have performed well. Of course, they're not perfect--occasionally they will boo a bad performance by a player, but I prefer to think these fans are the exception, rather than the rule. A true Cub fan realizes that life has a way of taking unexpected turns and that disappointments are bound to happen. Rather than agonizing over the what-ifs, a true Cub fan remains eternally optimistic; his favorite saying at the end of each losing season is "Wait till next year!" I think there are some life lessons to be learned here.

As a true Cub fan, I'm not counting on the Cubs to make it to the World Series this year, let alone win it. I will wait until October before I get too hopeful. But if you do see the Cubs successful in late September, you might want to get your affairs in order . . .the end of the world might just be near!

ABC Wednesdays are hosted by Mrs. Nesbitt and can be found altogether in a new blog.

Mixed Emotions

I am back in Blogland once again, but not without a touch of sadness. Yesterday I took Older Daughter to the airport so she could fly back home to Phoenix after spending a long weekend with us. She hadn't been home since Christmas, so it was wonderful to be able to spend time with her once again. We talked and laughed and spent Friday in Chicago attending a Cubs' game (though they lost); it was as though she'd never been gone. Her boyfriend also came home, so she spent part of the time with his family. But we got to spend time with him as well, so we made the most of the time we had with both of them. After four short days, though, she had to get back to work and to my "grandsons," as she constantly reminds me to call them. Odie, the pug, no doubt missed her, but he spent the weekend with a friend of hers, and as long as he had a comfy chair or bed to sleep on and a few treats, I'm sure he was fine.


New baby Bear might need some re-training when Daughter gets home, though. Bear was a new "addition" to her family about a month ago. You can't tell from his baby picture, but Bear is an English mastiff, which means he's going to grow to nearly 200 pounds, in other words . . . . . . HUGE!! Leave it to Daughter, the ultimate dog lover, to pass by the poodles and terriers for the largest dog she could find!

This weekend was the first time Daughter mentioned the word "wedding," which means she must be seriously planning marriage in a couple of years. I love my "grandsons," but I'm hoping some more human grandchildren might be in the picture in a few years as well.


The four days passed by so quickly and were so full of activity that Daughter said she'd need a vacation when she got back to Arizona. I hope she gets some much-needed rest this week.

Daughter came back specifically for my parents, who celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary this past week. I know they were so happy to see her. We took advantage of having the whole family here to take some family pictures Sunday morning at a nearby park. A cloudburst right before the photo shoot threatened our plans, but other than a few muddy knees we managed to get some photos taken. I can't wait to see the proofs. Afterwards, we went out to dinner where we were joined by my parents' brothers and sisters. They wanted to keep their celebration simple this year, since they'd had a big party for their 40th and an open house for their 50th. I think this worked out well--they were able to spend time with everyone there and were surrounded by the people who mean the most to them. I had worked for months to create a slideshow out of old family pictures. Although I was frustrated the music didn't work right, everything else went well, and I think they appreciated it. I wish them many more years of happiness!

Besides my daughter's visit and my parents' celebration, there were other matters to attend to last week, so it's been a hectic week and I've given myself permission to take a day off today. I'm going to catch up on blog reading, write a post for tomorrow, and maybe even start reading that new book I picked up from the library . . . the weeds and housework can wait another day.

Garden Muse Day:" A Route of Evanescence"

A Route of Evanescence

With a revolving Wheel--

A Resonance of Emerald--

A Rush of Cochineal--

And every Blossom on the Bush

Adjusts its tumbled Head--

The mail from Tunis, probably,

An easy Morning's Ride --

Emily Dickinson

The hummingbirds are back! I have been waiting for two months to be able to include this poem, one of my favorite Emily Dickinson's. But hummingbirds have been scarce around here the last month and a half, and I even had another post ready to go today instead. Yesterday, though, the stars must have been in alignment; as I sat out on the porch, camera in hand for once, not one, but two swooped down several times before finally deciding to take a drink. They are not easy to photograph because of their constant motion, and this picture doesn't begin to compare to some of the great shots others have shown on their blogs. But I am happy . . . my summer is complete.

Garden Muse Day is sponsored the first of each month by Carolyn Gail at Sweet Home and Garden Chicago.

Visitors Welcome (with a few exceptions)

Last week I realized that I have published over 50 posts and have been blogging for almost 5 months now. Blogging has opened a whole new world to me and introduced me to some wonderful people. One of the benefits of blogging for me has been the way I have changed in looking at some of the smallest things around me. For example, thanks to bloggers like Cheryl, I have a newfound appreciation for insects.

I've never been much of a "bug" person. My main interest in bugs before was in eradicating the pesky ones, although I did have a short-lived interest when my younger daughter was in high school and had to compile an insect collection for an advanced biology class. That year she had just undergone surgery for a torn ACL and was on crutches for a month. That made it rather difficult for her to gather insects, so naturally ever-helpful Mom, as well as other family members, had to help with the project. It wasn't unusual for my mother to drop by with some extra tomatoes from her garden--and a few plastic containers with preserved specimens she'd found for the collection. Even the mother of one of Daughter's volleyball teammates showed up at a ballgame proudly bearing several insects she'd found for her.

Of course, I was the main insect gatherer, though. I scoured trees after dusk with a flashlight looking for cicadas and hopped around the yard with a butterfly net--you think taking photos of a butterfly is difficult, try catching them! The neighbors probably were laughing behind their curtains at me, but I know for sure the volleyball moms thought I was pretty amusing. At one game I attended (even though Daughter had to spend her senior season on the bench) I saw an insect she didn't yet have. Climbing over and under the bleachers, I finally captured it and trapped it in the only container I had--a bag of popcorn. No one asked to share my popcorn after that!

All that is behind me now. There are no more plastic containers in my freezer holding perfectly preserved beetles or moths. Instead I am happy to see them in my garden, pollinating the flowers, eating the insects I don't want, or just providing a little entertainment for me.

My main flowerbed, next to the house, has become quite the bee magnet. Bumblebees are especially attracted to all the purple flowers I have, but they also enjoy the coneflowers. At one time I was frightened of bumblebees, but I've found they ignore me as long as I don't try to pick the flower they're on!



Last week I was trying to take some photos of the few white and cream-colored hollyhocks that have blossomed. I didn't even notice until after I'd taken the photo that this bee had climbed into the bloom. At least I think it was some kind of bee--he was so covered with pollen that I really couldn't tell what kind of insect he was.

I have other kinds of bees as well, but I don't know enough about them to identify them all. The threadleaf coreopsis below attracts swarms of some kind of small bee. This photo was taken in the morning before they come out, but I doubt you would have been able to see the small creatures anyway.

I know a spider is not an insect, but an arachnid, but I often think of it as being in a common category. I know many people, including my son, have phobias about spiders but they're one creature I've never minded, as long as they stay outside my house. I enjoy watching the Daddy-long-legs in particular, and I never disturb them because I know many of them will eat the insects I don't want around.

I have no idea what the insect below is; perhaps someone can identify him. I was trying to photograph a blossom up close when I spotted him--he has the longest anntenae in proportion to his body I've ever seen!

Of course, there are still some insects I don't like and never will. I've yet to see the purpose of flies, mosquitos, or cockroaches. Another species of pests that I've been complaining about the last few weeks is the Japanese beetle. Short of using a pesticide such as Sevin, there is no long-lasting effective measure to eradicate these little monsters. Picking them off by hand in the early morning while they're still drowsy and depositing them into a soapy solution is still the best method. But more will come to replace those you've destroyed.

Here's another unwanted guest I found on my squash plant yesterday morning--the squash beetle. I did buy a bottle of Sevin for these pests and plan to use it before they kill the whole plant, unless someone has a better suggestion instead. A beekeeper friend of my dad told him if you spray it late in the evening, it won't harm bees.

Not quite as annoying is this little guy, the common grasshopper. In large numbers, though, they can be quite destructive, especially for the farmers' crops. As much trouble as I have catching an insect in repose long enough for a photo, this guy seemed curious about my camera and eager to pose.

I am especially fond of any insect or other animal that helps to control the less desirable members of the species. We seem to have an abundance of dragonflies this year, which help to control the mosquito population. I've seen so many beautiful photos of them on other blogs I'm almost ashamed to show this one. Not only is it difficult to catch them standing still, but their transparent wings are difficult to photograph in sunlight.

Here's an insect that will never be considered handsome by any means, but I've always found him to be intriguing. This young praying mantis was climbing the trellis holding my clematis when I spotted him. I haven't seen any full-grown mantises this year, but I have seen several small ones like this one.

One of my favorite animals for insect control, though, is the common toad. I've run into this little baby several times (or perhaps it was his brother or sister) while working in the shade garden. Although I'm not brave enough to pick them up bare-handed, I often scoop them up in some fashion when I find them and put them back in my garden.

For sheer beauty, though, nothing can match a butterfly. I don't think there is anyone who doesn't like a butterfly. I purposely planted flowers that would attract butterflies, and usually in late summer they flock to my garden. So far I've seen only one or two monarchs and a beautiful blue/black butterfly I can't identify floating by, but I'm hoping they will bring the rest of their families here soon.

I won't pretend to have "embraced" the insect world in its entirety, but I have come to find that many of them are truly fascinating creatures. I may not sit and watch the ants work all day, but I do feel a little Thoreau-like in observing them for awhile in the garden.

Just a note: Although I have a short post planned for Friday's Muse day, I won't be around "Blog Land" much for the next several days. My daughter is coming home from Arizona for a long weekend and to help my parents celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary. I can't wait to see her--she hasn't been home since Christmas. I'll try to visit everyone again early next week.

Veggie Tales and Random Musings

Have you gotten "sticker shock" at the grocery store lately? Yesterday I bought a five-pound bag of red potatoes for $3.99. Even in the winter when produce is usually more expensive, I rarely spend that much on ten pounds of potatoes. But the real shock for me came when I looked in the meatcase at the local Meijer on Monday. A one-pound package of Oscar Mayer bacon was $5.49! I don't eat much bacon, but I was looking forward to BLT's when the tomatoes ripen. Looks like we may be eating LT's instead. And things aren't going to get better any time soon: a news report yesterday predicted that food prices are going to go up another 5% in the next six months.


All this gives me one more reason to be happy I planted a vegetable garden this year (though there isn't any bacon growing there!), and why I probably will expand it next year. I don't grow many different kinds of vegetables, so that I make sure we do eat what I grow. For example, broccoli is too much trouble, in my opinion, because of the pests, so I would rather buy that in the store. But I feel foolish buying a small zucchini when it is so easy to grow. A few weeks ago I wanted a zucchini for a pasta salad I was making and spent $1.00 for a small one. I haven't planted any since the "Zucchini Explosion" of 2006. That year I gave away lots of the vegetables and made zucchini bread, zucchini-apple bread, zucchini-carrot bread, zucchini cake, zucchini brownies, added grated zucchini to spaghetti sauce . . .you get the idea. It got so bad my daughter wouldn't eat anything without asking first whether there was zucchini in it. Now I wish I'd planted some this year--I could have had a veritable zucchini goldmine in my garden!


We have had some spinach, lettuce, and kohlrabi from the garden already, but our real favorites are just beginning to ripen. Yesterday I picked the second bunch of green beans, some summer squash (you can't make this into bread, unfortunately), and the real treat--the first tiny tomatoes.


There is nothing like a tomato fresh from the garden. I feel sorry for anyone who has known only the mushy, tasteless tomatoes sold in the supermarket. I got a little carried away this year planting tomatoes and have several varieties, including grape, cherry, Roma, and standard tomatoes such as Supersonic and Beefsteak. The tag for these tomatoes simply said "Grape."


I even have a variety of cherry tomato from England, courtesy of Cheryl (via Beckie).

By the end of August I hope I will be swamped with tomatoes and will be making tomato juice and tomato sauce to put in the freezer as well as all the fresh ones we will eat. I say I hope because some of the plants are not looking too healthy right now. There are yellow and even brown leaves on most of them. I usually stick with the varieties that are resistant to fungus, so I think the problem is in the watering. Quite frankly, we have had too much rain this year. Everything I have read about tomatoes says that they need regular, consistent watering. Unfortunately, the rain gods haven't paid attention to these recommendations.

Another reason to be thankful for growing my own tomatoes is the scare this year over salmonella and other possible contaminants in produce. Although tomatoes have now been taken off the recall lists, it still is more reassuring to know exactly where your produce came from. There was an article in the newspaper recently about the importing of produce. The article featured a model farm in Mexico where extreme precautions are taken to ensure safe handling of its lettuce all the way to the supermarket. The photo accompanying the article showed workers dressed in protective clothing, hats, and even face masks picking lettuce. I couldn't help feeling sorry for these workers. I pick vegetables only during the cool parts of the day, not for 8-12 hours in extreme heat, let along wearing layers of clothing. But what really struck me was that the writer explained the whole process of getting the lettuce to the supermarket, ending with the proud comment that it arrived safely on the supermarket shelves just a week after being picked. A week! Last Sunday I picked the first green beans and had them on the table within an hour!

Some random thoughts from the last few days . . . . . . Yesterday while I was sitting at the computer reading blogs, I kept hearing a low-flying plane. It took awhile for my fog-clouded brain to register what I was hearing. Finally, I ran outside with the camera and got a picture of this crop duster.

Since I was so slow in getting out, I didn't get a good photo because he was on his last round over this nearby field. He must have had several jobs to do because I could hear him in the area all day but never this close. I found out later he was spraying a fungicide that this particular variety of corn is susceptible to in wet weather.

Rambling along here, I noticed the other day that my clematis is blooming once again. That's not so unusual because it bloomed twice last summer as well. But what struck me as strange was the color of the bloom. You'll notice it is definitely lavendar.

But below is what it looked like this spring.

Is this normal?? Now that I think about it, last year, its first in bloom, the clematis bloomed just once--about this time of the summer-- and had lavender blooms. Earlier this spring I thought I had identified the plant as a "Nelly Moser," but now I am completely befuddled.

Speaking of clematis . . . . I wanted to thank everyone for their helpful comments on my last post about the sense of smell. You gave me some great ideas for plants to add to my garden to make it smell more sweetly. And I would still welcome any other suggestions. The power of the sense of smell to trigger strong memories seems surprising, while memories triggered by sights or sounds seem more logical in a way. Which brings me back to the clematis . . . I have seen the ever-popular Jackmanii clematis pictured on several posts. I know this variety has been around for years and is probably the most common, but I can't bring myself to plant one. Yes, they are beautiful, and they are purple, a favorite color of mine in the garden. But the Jackmanii triggers a very strong visual image for me. My grandmother was quite the gardener, and many of her flowers still live on at my parents' farmstead. My grandparents did not have indoor plumbing until I was about 5 or 6, and it always amazed me how my grandmother managed to get everything done, including tending flowers, when she had to pump water for doing dishes, laundry, and many other household chores. Grandma had a large Jackmanii clematis near--you guessed it--the old outhouse! My apologies to all of you who have these lovely clematises, but perhaps you'll understand when I say I can't see one without thinking of an outhouse.

One last parting comment . . . I have gotten daylily envy from seeing all the lovely daylily posts the last few weeks. So when I found a few on sale this past week at Meijer's I snatched up this "Lavender Dew."

I know it's not the right time of year to plant daylilies, but I have been scouring the local stores and garden centers whenever I have time lately for end of the season bargains. This one wasn't a great steal, but at least it was still healthy. I did find a few real bargains on Friday at the same sale Beckie went to, but I'll save them for another day. Right now I need to get busy and plant them before it rains again. Hope you all are having a great weekend!

Scentimental Memories

"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet..."

Did you know that olfaction, or the sense of smell, is controlled by the same part of the brain that controls memories and emotions? According to the Sense of Smell Institute (yes, there is such a thing), “People recall smells with a 65% accuracy after a year, while the visual recall of photos sinks to about 50% after only three months.” This is why a whiff of someone’s perfume might bring back a memory of your grandmother or an antiseptic smell might immediately evoke an unpleasant memory of a trip to the emergency room.

I know that the few times in recent years that I’ve had to don a hospital gown, the soft, powdery scent of the gown always brought back the pleasant memories of my children’s births. On the other hand, for years I could not stand the smell of Johnson and Johnson’s baby lotion—the kind that used to come in a pink bottle. I used it years ago as an all-purpose moisturizer when I was pregnant with my first son. Despite its clean, fresh fragrance, it always reminded me of having morning sickness.

A few other fun facts that I learned from the Sense of Smell Institute’s website are that our sense of smell is most acute in the evening; our sense of smell often diminishes as we age; and a woman’s sense of smell is keener than a man’s. Of course, we all knew that last fact already!


One of my teaching assignments for many years was a creative writing class for juniors and seniors. During the unit on descriptive writing, we discussed the importance of using all the senses. One assignment I gave was to write a description of a scene or place whose smells evoked memories. I gave them some possible prompts, such as going to the dentist, a trip to the emergency room, Thanksgiving dinner, or a day at the county fair. Writing descriptively about smells is not easy, so we brainstormed before writing, coming up with a list of possible adjectives. I started them off with words like spicy, aromatic, and pungent, and then they added to the list. By the end, of course, it often degenerated into words like raunchy, putrid, or foul, but it gave them something to work with.

As with any creative writing assignment, the resulting pieces were often nothing out of the ordinary, but I would always be pleasantly surprised by a few students whose papers were so descriptive you could almost smell the images on the page. But all of them quickly related to this assignment; they began remembering certain scents that brought specific images or events to mind.

What started me thinking about the importance of our sense of smell was a post on Sunday by Amy at High and Dry. She showed a photo of a new honeysuckle vine that she had, and I thought how much I loved honeysuckle. Strangely, the memory that the scent of honeysuckle triggers for me has nothing to do with the flower itself. When I was a young teenager I used to wear a perfumed lotion from Avon that had a honeysuckle scent. Even today that smell brings back memories of a time when I was younger, dreaming of boyfriends and wondering what the future would hold for me. I am going to add a honeysuckle vine to my ever-growing plant wish list!

Many of the rest of you have mentioned in describing a flower what a lovely fragrance it had. I couldn’t think of any flower I have that has a fragrance I am drawn to, so I decided it was time to stick my nose into things, so to speak.

I have two Knockout roses, currently under
daily attack by the Japanese beetles.
They smell like, well . . .roses,
but nothing like the fragrance of tea roses.











One plant I didn't have to stick my nose into to take in its aroma is the Russian sage, which does smell somewhat like its namesake.


Its strong, almost sickenly sweet scent
usually clings to my hands and clothes after
I've been weeding around it. I've been
trimming a few branches from one
plant that has fallen over and covered up
one of the roses. As I was doing this, I
noticed the rose beneath it had no damage
from the Japanese beetles. I thought I'd
hit on a possible deterrent to the beetles--the strong aroma put off by the sage. But if you
look closely in the lower right of this photo,
you'll see my theory doesn't hold up.
Apparently, the beetles don't mind its
aroma.





I had to "bee" very careful when checking out some of the other flowers. The salvia "May Night" also gives off a sage aroma, but it's not as sweet as the perovskia, nor as noticeable until you get right down to the plant.



Upon the advice of Marnie at Lilacs and Roses, I checked a nearby pot for the the heliotrope which I included in my last post. She mentioned the wonderful vanilla scent of this flower. I did get a faint whiff, but the plant I have doesn't put out much fragrance.


Last week I noticed these tiny little blooms for the first time on a creeping thyme, Thymus serpyllum. This is a plant that's billed as a good groundcover; in fact, I've seen it marketed more this year as a "steppable." But I've pretty much ignored it until I saw these blooms. Since it's in the thyme family, I assumed it would have a scent and bent very low to get a whiff. It does have a faint fragrance, but it's such a small plant and we'd had rain the night before that I wasn't sure if I was smelling thyme or damp grass.

By now I was beginning to wonder if I was losing my sense of smell or sinus congestion was kicking in again. But there was no doubt why the nepeta "Walker's Low" is called catmint. It didn't take much sniffing to get that minty aroma.

Obviously, there are many flowers that are grown for reasons other than their fragrance. When I bought this cleome I was cautioned not to plant it too close to the house because it had an unpleasant odor. For the sake of my research, I sacrificed my nose and took a good strong whiff. It doesn't smell good, that's for sure, but it's not disgusting either. I've planted it far away from the house, but I don't think I'd notice it even if it were closer.

Well, that's it. Despite risking bee stings by sticking my nose into nearly every plant I have, I didn't find any other really fragrant flowers. I think I'm missing out on an important sensory effect in the garden and need to plant more flowers for their scent. I would love to walk out my door and smell gardenias or jasmine, but I don't think that is possible in my zone 5 garden, other than maybe in a potted plant. I'm open to any suggestions for plantings--care to share your thoughts on creating a sweet-smelling garden?