When the rains finally came, I was too sleepy-tired to notice or pay attention. But rain it did -- not for long, but heavily enough to get that dusty dry look out of the farmette!
Ed was even more sleepy than I was and so I gave him the gift of myself getting up at sunrise to let the cheepers out. The clouds were by then receding. The cheepers were thrilled to be out and about. (I do wonder if they fear storms, or accept them in the same way they accept Isis -- some things just are.)
But of course, a late summer garden will suffer damage from a violent rainstorm. The clinging blooms will give up their hold, the stalks of my tallest of tall flowers will bend and groan... It all looks rather disconcerting afterwards. (Fine, blame me for planting things that grow to be that tall! I admit it, I'm, in part, the culprit here!)
And so after breakfast...
...I go out with a rope and prop things up a bit. The flower beds wont have the same free style exuberance as before the storm, but it's better than seeing them all fall down in a clump of smothered blooms.
Here they are, after my efforts to give support.
Not to brag too much on their behalf, but do note that the daylilies had no problem staying upright!
Note them here:
And in the big bed here:
(Thanks, btw, to my commenter on the sage advice on growing a Gaura that is native to our surroundings! I do like the pink ones as well, but I have to admit, the ones that made it through our beastly winter were white, much like the ones by the creek -- here is mine, along the driveway, flanked by another native -- goldenrod and of course, with daylilies and lavender stuck in for effect. It's into the sun: lustrous and angelic, not unlike it appears in real life.
I do still try with the pink cultivar, in various strategic locations, including in a pot -- it does fairly well indoors during the winter.)
The air cleared and the wind picked up in the morning and I wish this kind of breeze and spotty sunshine would stay with us the whole week and then some, but I see hot air pushing back at us this coming weekend, so let me just take this day as it presents itself right now -- beautiful and blustery. Perfect for writing on the porch and perfect, too, for a late afternoon bike ride to the library and back. Not a huge challenge, but better than the utter physical (if not mental) laziness of putting my feet up and rocking gently in the chair out on the porch.
Supper is cheeper egg time -- a once a week extravaganza of eggs and veggies (and in answer to your comments -- I'm with you on this: how could anyone find the rather bland zucchini distasteful, especially when it's spiked with fresh herbs and garlic and all those magical things that come from our garden? N.B. Ed also does not like eggplant much! What's with you eggplant detractors? It's so... mediterranean! Is it the name that makes you recoil??).
I'll leave you with a photo of two of our three hens. Thanks, girls, for the eggs. (You're seeing them standing in the driveway as I take my Gaura photo. Obviously they're gossiping: why is she here? She never comes here with her camera! What's so special here?)
Ed was even more sleepy than I was and so I gave him the gift of myself getting up at sunrise to let the cheepers out. The clouds were by then receding. The cheepers were thrilled to be out and about. (I do wonder if they fear storms, or accept them in the same way they accept Isis -- some things just are.)
But of course, a late summer garden will suffer damage from a violent rainstorm. The clinging blooms will give up their hold, the stalks of my tallest of tall flowers will bend and groan... It all looks rather disconcerting afterwards. (Fine, blame me for planting things that grow to be that tall! I admit it, I'm, in part, the culprit here!)
And so after breakfast...
...I go out with a rope and prop things up a bit. The flower beds wont have the same free style exuberance as before the storm, but it's better than seeing them all fall down in a clump of smothered blooms.
Here they are, after my efforts to give support.
Not to brag too much on their behalf, but do note that the daylilies had no problem staying upright!
Note them here:
And in the big bed here:
(Thanks, btw, to my commenter on the sage advice on growing a Gaura that is native to our surroundings! I do like the pink ones as well, but I have to admit, the ones that made it through our beastly winter were white, much like the ones by the creek -- here is mine, along the driveway, flanked by another native -- goldenrod and of course, with daylilies and lavender stuck in for effect. It's into the sun: lustrous and angelic, not unlike it appears in real life.
I do still try with the pink cultivar, in various strategic locations, including in a pot -- it does fairly well indoors during the winter.)
The air cleared and the wind picked up in the morning and I wish this kind of breeze and spotty sunshine would stay with us the whole week and then some, but I see hot air pushing back at us this coming weekend, so let me just take this day as it presents itself right now -- beautiful and blustery. Perfect for writing on the porch and perfect, too, for a late afternoon bike ride to the library and back. Not a huge challenge, but better than the utter physical (if not mental) laziness of putting my feet up and rocking gently in the chair out on the porch.
Supper is cheeper egg time -- a once a week extravaganza of eggs and veggies (and in answer to your comments -- I'm with you on this: how could anyone find the rather bland zucchini distasteful, especially when it's spiked with fresh herbs and garlic and all those magical things that come from our garden? N.B. Ed also does not like eggplant much! What's with you eggplant detractors? It's so... mediterranean! Is it the name that makes you recoil??).
I'll leave you with a photo of two of our three hens. Thanks, girls, for the eggs. (You're seeing them standing in the driveway as I take my Gaura photo. Obviously they're gossiping: why is she here? She never comes here with her camera! What's so special here?)
