Spring Lessons and Celebrating Summer

Tuesday evening I attended our local Master Gardeners' meeting and invited my good friend to join me.  I don't always go to the meetings, but the speaker this time was a well-known member of our local group talking about shade plants other than hostas, and her talks are always informative and interesting.   She's been in the horticulture industry for over 30, maybe 40 years--I'm too polite to ask her age:)  She's a member of the American Hosta Society, the Daylily Society, the Peony Society, and probably several others that I didn't catch.  Suffice it to say, she's an expert on so many gardening topics, and her own garden is magnificent.  During her introduction, she said that despite her experience, she learns something new every day about gardening.  Wow, I thought, if she's still learning new gardening tips, how much more must there be that I haven't learned!

Certainly, every season I learn something new from experiences in my own garden, and as part of Beth at Plant Postings' season meme "Lessons Learned,"  I'd like to share a few things I have learned this last spring.

"Tulip Hill" wasn't much of a hill this year--note the chewed off tulips in the center and to the far right.

1.  Rabbits and deer really are pests.  For years, I've been bragging how these two critters leave my garden alone.  I've empathized with fellow bloggers who have had to resort to all kinds of devices and techniques to keep them out of their gardens, often to no avail.  But I sat smugly at my computer and commented that the dogs and maybe the cats kept the deer and rabbits from sticking around long enough to munch on my plants. Obviously, it doesn't pay to be too smug, because this spring they found my garden, too, and I was not a happy gardener! 

A gorgeous double tulip--'Sunlover.'  You can see there should have been two blooms here, not one.

If I were a rabbit or deer, I'd go for something tasty-sounding, like this 'Sorbet.'  But they're not choosy diners.

I learned very quickly this spring that my garden isn't immune to these cute but destructive pests.  It's not going to stop me from planting more tulips this fall, but I've decided to plant only daffodils in the new shade garden addition, which is right along the deer's grazing path.  Why tempt them any more?

2. Winter questions have been answered. In my spring post on "Lessons Learned,"  I was still wondering about a few experiments I had tried and whether they would be successful.  I had babied two 'Encore' azaleas over the winter, encasing them in burlap cages in hopes they would survive what turned out to be one of the worst winters in twenty years.  As of a couple of weeks ago, I would have sadly reported that they didn't make it.  I was in a state of denial and refused to pull them out for a long time, despite their very corpse-like appearance.  But so many plants were slow to emerge this spring, and one morning I looked out at the sidewalk garden, and my hopes began to rise.  Could it be?  No, those weren't little weeds popping up--there were leaves growing at the bottom of each azalea!  I was so excited, I promptly took a photo with my phone and texted my best friend.  Call it what you will, sometimes it pays to be a procrastinator or an idealist who refuses to see reality.

A few small azalea leaves give me hope.

Another experiment I was still waiting on as spring began didn't have such positive results.  In my first attempt at planting bulbs in a container, I paid attention to the experts' advice for my zone 5b garden and swathed the pot of tulips in bubble wrap and kept it on my semi-sheltered back porch.  Some time in late March I decided the worst of winter had to be over, and I took off the bubble wrap and moved the pot onto the patio.  Unfortunately, soon after, we had a torrential rainstorm.  It wasn't until a few days later that I noticed there was two inches of water sitting on top of the pot.   I still don't know if the tulips would have made it through the winter, but I'm pretty sure they rotted away in all that muddy soil.  Oh well, lesson learned--I'm going to try this again next year and remember spring rains as well as winter storms.

My last question held over from spring wasn't really an experiment at all--the planting of a new little serviceberry last fall and wondering whether it would survive the winter . . . and Frank the pug's constant "watering" of it.  I'm happy to report it had lots of sweet little white blooms this spring and is now covered in red berries that the birds are eating as fast as they can.  I've wanted a serviceberry for a long time, so I'm so happy to see it doing well and eager to see it grow even larger in the coming years.  And Frank is happy, too, that he's not in trouble:)

3. Spring is the shortest season of the year in Illinois.  Or maybe it just seems that way.  But this year it certainly was true--winter didn't want to give in, and our last snowfall was in mid-April.  By early May temperatures soared, and it seemed as if we went straight into summer, giving us about two or three weeks of true spring.  Spring is also the busiest time in the garden for me, making the days fly by even faster.  Besides garden clean-up and planting containers and annuals in the garden, I  finally got around to a small expansion of the shade garden that I've been wanting to do for some time.  I wanted to thin out and divide many of the plants in the original crowded shade area, but between frequent rain showers and warmer temperatures that made everything grow a foot overnight, I didn't get nearly as much done as I had hoped.

Can you tell where I dug out hostas?  Nope, I didn't think so.  Oh well, there's always next year to finish this job.

4. Some plants are really happy in my garden, or Mother Nature knows best.  While I have killed more plants than I care to remember and have babied others along, disappointed in their reluctance to thrive, there are a few plants that just love it here and continue to multiply.

One of those plants is salvia.  I've had two 'May Night' Salvias in the sidewalk garden for nine years, and they have been faithful performers, if not especially eye-catching.  But a few years ago I planted a division from our MG garden in the Arbor Bed, and it has not only thrived, but has re-seeded all over the place.  I even dug up some stray plants this spring and gave some away to a friend and even (gasp!) threw a few others on the compost pile.  I keep intending to dig them all up and transplant them at the back of the garden, because they weren't part of the original planting scheme, but so far haven't accomplished that.  If I ever do transplant them all together, I could have my own Mini River of Salvia, ala the Lurie Garden:)

Another happy plant in my garden is the Purple Coneflower.  I've had a lot of trouble growing some natives from seeds or even seedlings, but not this beauty!  I'm not sure if purists would call Echinacea Purpurea a native plant, but it's close enough.  It always re-seeds in my garden, but this year it has outdone itself, spreading to various flowerbeds where it was never planted and covering most of the sidewalk bed.  Again, that wasn't part of the plan for the sidewalk bed, but I've given in to Nature's plan and leaving them alone, at least until after they have all finished blooming.  In another week or two I should have a buffet feast for the butterflies, bees, and finches!

Asiatic lily blooms and Salvia from the garden

Probably the most important lesson I've learned this spring is really a holdover from the awful winter--to enjoy each and every day, no matter the weather, and not "wish" them away.  As the delicate blooms and softer hues of spring give way to the raucous colors and exuberant blossoms of summer, I am vowing not to complain about the heat and humidity and wish for cooler days instead--I said I'm going to try:)  Early mornings and the hour or two before sunset are enjoyable times to be in the garden, I've found.  And when it simply gets too hot, I'll bring my blooms indoors!


Besides linking in with Plant Postings, I'm also linking in with Donna at Gardens Eye View  for her Seasonal Celebrations.  You can visit both for more looks at the past season with an eye toward the months ahead.

The Tale of Buddy the Bunny

I have been reading several posts and many comments lately about dealing with the nemesis of gardeners everywhere, that cuddly, furry little creature who miraculously lays brightly colored eggs all over our yards just once each spring. Yes, I do mean the rabbit, or the bunny, as my grandchildren prefer to call him. I've decided it's time for someone to speak up for this defenseless creature and to redeem myself after my cruel hoax on Tuesday.

Now before all you gardeners stop reading this in disgust, thinking this is the ranting of some idealistic nature-lover who never planted a carrot or of some fanatical animal activist who pickets gardeners using rabbit repellent, I do feel your pain. I, too, have had vegetables mysteriously disappear overnight from the garden. But, I must admit, my skirmishes with the hares have been minor, so there is still a soft spot in my heart for them, especially when I remember Buddy the Bunny.

During this past long winter, one of my projects was to organize my photographs. Nearly forty years' worth of photos were crammed into boxes and worn-out scrapbooks in the hall closet. Each night for over two weeks I tackled a couple containers, sorting each picture into a pile according to oldest son, oldest daughter, grandchild one, and so on. Finally, I had quite a few photo boxes each carefully labelled (scrapbooks may or may not come later). The photos brought back fond memories of my children's childhood, and I found some long-forgotten pictures, including this one of our only pet rabbit, Buddy.

How can you not love something so adorable?

Several years ago, when daughter #1 was a junior in college, she came home with a small box one day, just beaming. To my surprise, she pulled out this white ball of fluff and said, "Isn't he the cutest thing you've ever seen?" I had to agree, but I don't know what possessed her to get him; perhaps she needed a friend at school. At the time she was living in a single in her sorority house, and somehow she managed to keep him in her room without anyone knowing. (I'm sure there was a no-pet policy, but at least rabbits don't bark or howl so no suspicions were raised.)

However, as we all know, everything living grows, and in no time, Buddy wasn't this tiny little creature satisfied to stay in his small cage. Eventually, daughter #1 had to face the fact that Buddy simply couldn't live with her anymore, and she brought him home to stay with us. (I've lost count of the foundlings we have adopted thanks to my daughter's soft heart.)

Buddy soon became one of the family. Feeling sorry for him in his small cage, I let him out to play several times a day. He would hop all over the house, to the delight of my grandchildren. His favorite place to settle down was in the recliner. When my husband sat down to relax and watch a baseball game, Buddy would make a vertical hop of two feet right onto the footrest of the recliner and sit there perfectly content for an hour or more. All he needed was a Cubs cap with cutouts for his ears.

Although such actions endeared him to us, especially my husband, I quickly found that indoor rabbits can create almost as much human consternation as their outdoor counterparts. When Buddy wasn't cheering on the Cubs or napping contentedly on the couch, he kept active. I discovered that rabbits follow a fairly predictable routine: nibble a little, hop, hop, poop, poop, hop, hop, poop, hop, poop... After awhile of this, I grew frustrated and put him back in his cage, too small or not, while I cleaned up after him. (Fortunately, rabbit droppings are less messy and disgusting than cleaning up after a cat or dog who isn't yet housebroken.)

But that isn't their only pastime--remember the nibbling? Rabbits aren't choosy about what they nibble on--an extension cord, my vacuum cleaner cord, or woodwork were all tasty edibles, as far as Buddy was concerned. The last straw came the day I decided to check the internet for articles on housebreaking rabbits (it has been done!) and what to do in case of an accidental electrocution. Unfortunately, I couldn't click onto the Web, because Buddy had chewed right through the cord to my computer's mouse!

Fuming all the way to the local Staples for a new mouse, I had Mr. McGregorian thoughts. I'd show that rabbit! By the time I got home armed with a new mouse and a plastic contraption designed to cover all my computer cables, I had calmed down. I resolved, too, to invest in a larger cage for Buddy (where was my daughter??) and do some serious research on litterboxes for rabbits. Unfortunately, I never had the chance to do either.

I am sorry to say that the tale of Buddy the Bunny has a very sad ending. He did not escape from Mr. McGregor's garden and eventually get put to bed with chamomile tea. Instead, my daughter, in a misguided attempt to create harmony among all her pets, introduced him to Calico the cat, who was then living outdoors. Calico immediately lashed out at Buddy with her claws, and while it was only a superficial wound, Buddy apparently was traumatized. He died the next day. I later learned from an acquaintance who once raised rabbits that domestic rabbits are easily frightened and can die from an emotional trauma.

Now, my fellow gardeners, you understand why I might sympathize with your rabbit wars, but still have a soft spot in my heart for these furry friends. Last summer we had a family of rabbits on our farm, and they did devour my cabbage and cauliflower plants, but my cabbage and cauliflower usually get infested with worms anyway (shudder), so I wasn't too disturbed.

Coconut, the ever-vigilant watchdog

When I spotted a rabbit, I would point him out to Coconut, who was more than willing to chase it away. And when Coconut returned indoors, Smoky and the other outdoor cats managed to keep them from approaching too close to the house.

Smoky, the formidable watch cat

Of course, if the rabbits start nibbling on my hostas this year, well, that's another story...

Perhaps I should stock up on some chicken wire just in case.

The Final Rabbit Solution

Having read several blogs lately about dealing with the bane of gardeners everywhere--the rabbit--I thought you might be interested in my foolproof way of keeping these little pests out of your garden permanently.

After rabbits devoured a whole row of vegetables in my garden last year, I was determined to find some way of deterring them from further destruction. After trying countless methods that simply didn't work, I hit upon a brainstorm, albeit a little drastic. I borrowed a taser gun from a police officer friend of mine. One late spring evening last year I stationed myself in the garden, hiding behind the tomato plants, clad in camouflage borrowed from my son, the hunter. My patience eventually paid off.

The enemy cautiously hopped in the garden, never suspecting I was lying in wait. As they began to nibble on carrot tops, I sprang up from my hiding place and zapped two of them before they even had a chance to swallow.

Quickly, before they could recover, I began the second step of the process of rabbit eradication. I retrieved the pail of plaster of paris I had mixed up shortly before. I poured the mixture on both of them, still unconscious from the taser, and smoothed a thick coating over their entire bodies. I propped them up carefully to allow the mixture to harden quickly.

Voila!

You can see the end result is quite an aesthetically pleasing addition to my garden, plus it has the added benefit of deterring any further rabbit invasions. Apparently, the plaster statues serve as a warning to all rabbits what might happen to those who dare to enter my garden, much like the heads of criminals on the city walls of London did many centuries ago.

If you are interested in the exact process for creating these statues, you may email me at prairierose@aprilfools.com.

(Perhaps I've gone too far...I've read too much Jonathan Swift. Before anyone reports me to the ASPCA, these statues are actually in the Master Gardeners Idea Garden on the U of I campus. In a couple days I plan to post a story about a dear departed pet, Buddy the Bunny. I hope you will read it.)