sillydoggarden

Zone love

2012-02-05T10:44:00.000-06:00

The USDA has updated its plant hardiness zone map. Some areas of the country are in warmer zones, some not so much. The zone at sillydoggarden is about the same. Entering the Zip code initially gets us to 4B (-25 to -30), but looking a little deeper on the map puts us into 4A (-30 to -25). These are average annual minimum temperatures -- we've been known to have bouts of minus 40 degrees.

The new map probably won't change our approach to plant selection. We've always used the zone map as a guide and not as gospel. Pushing zones is a time-honored tradition -- you can't go crazy, but there are other factors to consider when deciding whether to choose a particular plant. Drainage, light and humidity are just a few things to think about. And, of course, you may have microclimates in your garden that make a big difference in survival.

But the new map is nice -- there are both interactive and static versions. It's easy to find your zone if you know your Zip code. Try it.

An offering to Pantone

2012-01-15T19:51:00.000-06:00

'Autumn Flame' daylily blooms in late summer, early fall.

The color gods have decided that Tangerine Tango is THE color of 2012.

May I just say that a "spirited reddish-orange" has been in our garden in for some time. As evidence, here are a few riffs on orange/red that we enjoy.

'Alabama Jubilee' daylily. This one has just enough ruffle.

Marigolds are easy to grow from seed. 'Safari Orange' is one of the mainstays of our annual garden.

Helenium 'Moerheim Beauty.' After three attempts we found the perfect location for this perennial. Those are tiger lilies behind it.

Gaillardia is another annual that we grow from seed.

Another year, another Seventh Day

2012-01-09T20:52:00.000-06:00

We watched last summer as the robins built this nest in the bur oak. We weren't sure it was a good location for a home; it's not very high in the tree, just a bit over my head. But there it was and before long mama robin was spending a lot of time in the nest. We were looking forward to watching them raise their brood. But ...

... then came the squirrels. We watched several times as squirrels raided the nest and the angry robins chased them across the lawn in the woods. We rooted for the robins, but in the space of a few days, we found broken, pale blue shells on the ground.

The nest was abandoned.

Now that the leaves are gone, the nest is even easier to spot. See some of what else we saw on this Seventh Day. (Or go to the sidebar at right.)

Over already? Not quite

2012-01-02T22:05:00.000-06:00

The holidays slipped past way too fast. I meant to take a photo of our tomato-cage Christmas tree a couple of weeks ago, but only managed to get it done the other night.

How simple is this? Take a tomato cage, turn it upside down, wire the legs together in a point, wrap it in lights using twist ties at strategic intervals, secure it in a pot, and plug it in. This is sweet enough to light the door for weeks to come.

Christmas Eve morning

2011-12-24T08:14:00.000-06:00

Seventh Day December

2011-12-10T20:50:00.005-06:00

Some days, when the sun is bright, it's comfortable enough to sit on the deck in the winter.

But not for very long.

I was gone before the sun was fully up and didn't get home until after the sun had set, so Brian took on photography responsibilities for this Seventh Day. This time of year the garden is spare and muted but still pleasing. Days are short, snow is a constant companion and cold is the new normal. Take a look at what we see when we go out and about. Find photos here or in the sidebar at right.

Short days

2011-12-07T20:19:00.000-06:00

We are moving steadily toward the shortest day of the year. Here, the sun peeks through the trees across the road just after 9 a.m. Tuesday.

Delicious Brussels sprouts and cheese tart

2011-12-04T10:48:00.002-06:00

This Brussels sprouts and cheese tart is a keeper. Below, this is how the sprouts look on the plant before being harvested. They're kind of like mini cabbages. They're also attractive to deer and we have to use wire or sheets late in the season to keep the harvest from being eaten.

Here's another good reason to grow Brussels sprouts -- this cheese and sprouts tart.

The recipe comes courtesy of the Star Tribune's food section via Newsday -- yes, there still are newspapers that recognize the value of food sections.

Brian made the tart for a Thanksgiving Day appetizer, putting some of the last of the Brussels sprouts to flavorful use. The verdict -- a unanimous "yes," even the self-described sprouts-hater among the four of us found the tart appealing. Well, he at least found it palatable. The dual cooking approach -- sauteing and roasting -- eliminates the bitter that some people are sensitive to. Here's a link to the recipe (I've also copied it below.) Brian did make one change -- he substituted Jarlsberg cheese for the Gruyere. The leek and thyme called for in the recipe came from our garden, too.

GRUYÈRE AND BRUSSELS SPROUTS TART

Makes 4 to 6 servings

• 1 (14-ounce) sheet puff pastry, defrosted in the refrigerator overnight

• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

• 1 leek, white and light green parts, sliced thin

• 10 ounces Brussels sprouts, halved

• Salt

• Ground black pepper

• 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

• 1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh thyme leaves

• 4 ounces shredded Gruyère (we used Jarlsberg) cheese

• 1 egg, lightly beaten

Directions

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Unfold the puff pastry and place in middle of baking sheet. Prick all over with a fork. Cover with plastic and place in freezer.

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Heat olive oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add leek and cook until softened, about 3 minutes. Add Brussels sprouts, salt and pepper to taste and cook, stirring occasionally, until they are spotty brown, 5 to 7 minutes.

Add balsamic vinegar and continue to cook, stirring, until most of the liquid has cooked off (this will take less than 30 seconds). Scrape into a bowl, stir in thyme and set aside to cool.

Remove puff pastry from freezer, and spread cooled Brussels sprouts mixture over it, leaving a 1-inch border all around. Sprinkle the cheese over the Brussels sprouts.

Brush edge of dough with egg. Bake until the pastry is golden and cheese is browned and bubbling, about 20 minutes. Cool slightly and serve warm or let come to room temperature before serving.

November greens

2011-11-29T12:59:00.000-06:00

The lettuce and spinach were in the ground only hours earlier. That half-moon slice of radish near center top is a new favorite called 'Chinese Red Meat.' Below, behold a bowl of 'Tyee' spinach.

The last of the salad greens were harvested over the weekend. The spinach and lettuce held up quite well under the floating row covers, put in place as much for deer protection as for an extra degree or two on the thermometer.

The spinach -- handsome, sturdy leaves of 'Tyee' -- were cooked with cream. Popeye would be proud!

The lettuce -- a beautiful red called 'Galactic' and a speckled loose-head variety called 'Mottistone' -- consorted with some of the spinach in an early winter salad fortified with carrots, red onion and radishes harvested earlier this fall and stored in the fridge or in the crawlspace under the stairs.

Even in Zone 3-4, it is still possible to enjoy salad picked only hours earlier on a cold, gray day at the end of November.

Sources include Johnny's Selected Seeds and Territorial Seed Company. We found the Galactic seed at Johnny's but it doesn't look like they carry it anymore.

(Rosy) Seventh Day November

2011-11-12T21:09:00.000-06:00

Some mornings, when the timing and circumstances are just right, the sun crests the trees across the road and throws beams of golden or pink light onto the tops of the trees behind our house. The effect only lasts a few minutes, but those few minutes are magical.

On this Nov. 7 we were treated to a "rosy-fingered dawn." And then we were treated to an evening meal of freshly picked lettuce and parsnips. The hours between were filled with work so we're a little shy on photos this time around. Still, click here or see the sidebar at right for more images.

Better late than never: Seventh Day October

2011-11-05T11:32:00.000-05:00

A bee works over a stand of asters in the backyard.

Did you think that maybe we had fallen off the face of the Earth? That maybe we had finally had enough of all the nonsense we've been witnessing thanks to the politicians and big-business types? That maybe we had decided just to pack it in and go off the grid? As tempting as that may be, the real reason you haven't seen much here lately is that we've been really, really busy.

October was a month of transition -- both in the garden and out of the garden. So let's talk garden:

Containers of summer annuals and vegetables have been emptied.
Pots of scented geraniums and other plants for overwintering have been brought inside. Still need to find homes for everything. The dining room floor is way too crowded!
Waterlilies and umbrella plants stowed in the closet under the stairs.
Fish moved into winter quarters in the aquarium in the guest room. All four appear to be adjusting well.
Harvesting potatoes, carrots, onions. Eating celeriac, beets, parsnips, spinach and lettuce.
Planting garlic.
Planting the martagon lilies we bought during a visit to the Chicago Botanic Garden.
Cages going up for winter deer protection.

October passed by too quickly. Here, at least, we can slow down a little and see where we've been. Take a look here or in the sidebar at right.

Between harvest and compost

2011-10-31T22:05:00.000-05:00

Where do cornstalks go after the sweet corn is harvested and before they're tossed into the compost pile?

To Bill and Phil's house as part of their annual Halloween extravaganza.

The display also includes giant inflatable pumpkins, a pirate ship, a train and a black cat. Oh, and a simple maze constructed of hay bales.

They'll break down the Halloween decorations as soon as the last trick-or-treaters have visited. Christmas is calling.

Dinner, together

2011-10-01T09:48:00.001-05:00

A grouse is almost too heavy to balance on a stem of this viburnum while a chipmunk hangs upside down to grab his share of berries. Below: The berries.

The viburnum at the end of the driveway became a popular dining destination earlier this week. The shrub, Viburnum dentatum Red Feather, was loaded with blue-black berries -- until they were discovered by the birds, including this grouse, and the chipmunks.

The shrub is a good choice for our garden. It doesn't need a lot of coddling, always a happy attribute around here. In spring, the emerging foliage is maroon and because of some prominent veining, the young leaves themselves look something like feathers. White flat-top flowers follow. The berries arrive in fall as the foliage begins to turn purple.

These days, we're seeing lots of bird activity as the fruit on the crab apple, viburnums, roses and other shrubs ripen. The blue jays already have stripped a frontyard oak of its acorns. Sparrows scoot through the perennials searching out whatever seeds and other food they can find on the ground. And the Silly Dog has to keep track of the resident chipmunks as they run through the garden caching whatever they don't immediately devour.

Back to normal

2011-09-26T22:54:00.000-05:00

The Silly Dog had the staples from his surgery of two weeks ago removed today, and we're happy to report that he is back chasing chipmunks and racing the UPS truck.

Life is good.

Black walnut update: Surprise!

2011-09-25T18:11:00.000-05:00

A chicken wire cage will protect the black walnut seedling from deer and rabbits.

Look what happens when you're not paying attention.

The background: We sowed 14 black walnuts in fall 2009. Three germinated. They were planted out back on the "nature trail" last fall. This spring, they looked good. We were hopeful. But then, nothing. Did a cold snap kill the buds? Who knows. There were too many other things to think about and we left the sad-looking stems alone.

A couple of weeks ago we made the discovery. One of the seedling trees has put out a robust show of leaves. It lives!

Seventh Day September: Go Team!

2011-09-18T09:31:00.000-05:00

Blue Hubbard squash

New this month -- photos taken by both of the Silly Dog's keepers. While I was away working on a project, the other half of the sillydoggarden team filled the gap by shooting images of lots of cool stuff (like that squash, above).

September is racing by -- we had three consecutive nights of frost/freeze this past week so many of the tender annuals are toast. But we also have a bunch of beans and corn in the freezer and trays of onions curing in the garage. The root crops will be harvested later. And even on a rainy day like today, the garden has the beginning of that burnished autumn glow.

See what's been going on at sillydoggarden by clicking here or going to the slide show in the sidebar at right.

X marks the spot

2011-09-12T21:44:00.000-05:00

Weekend vapor trails at sillydoggarden.

Honoring the memory of a friend's brother

2011-09-11T19:06:00.001-05:00

Self-sown Nicotiana alata.

A day of reflection. A friend writes about the loss of his brother on 9/11 in the New York Times.

Grateful ...

2011-09-05T08:24:00.000-05:00

... for 17 years of (state-sanctioned) garden-making.

Sunset

2011-08-21T10:35:00.000-05:00

8:13 p.m. Saturday. View from the backyard deck.

Already, the days are getting noticeably shorter. The sun is rising about a minute later and setting about a minute earlier. A minute here and a minute there and pretty soon you're talking about real time.

Yesterday's sunset was particularly stunning.

8:14 p.m. Saturday. View from the backyard deck.

August bubbling away

2011-08-16T20:24:00.001-05:00

I've had the water lily ('Chromatella') for more than 15 years. The floating plants are new additions we purchased at Winter Greenhouse in May.

August is going by way too fast. Here is some of it captured and saved in The Seventh Day Project: August 2011. (Or see sidebar at right)

Transition

2011-08-14T16:51:00.000-05:00

I believe we're at that point in the season where we're taking out more plant material than we're putting in. This is the front bed with bee balm ('Raspberry Wine'), phlox, Oriental lilies and allium.

Saturday: On mornings like this, it's all about the light

2011-08-07T11:45:00.000-05:00

Clouds left over from the night's thundershowers depart about 6:30 a.m.

The sun rises above the trees and throws its light across the vegetable garden. (Whoo-hoo, look at that corn growing!)

Tiger lily buds drip with moisture.

Phlox catches the light.

Buds swell on the 'Casa Blanca' lilies.

The light plays off all the moisture in the air. And off those big puffs of Arctic blue willow (center).

Sea holly (eryngium) almost looks like an alien plant in this light.

Bee balm 'Raspberry Wine' snuggles with some lily buds.

Rudbeckia

2011-08-02T22:50:00.000-05:00

Stand-ins

2011-07-19T10:42:00.000-05:00

Until we get the real thing, these ducks will have to do. They're floating in one of our waterlily tubs. Those are glass bubbles floating along with them.

Slacker returns with Seventh Day July

2011-07-16T12:02:00.001-05:00

Astrantia, with its papery blossoms, seems to me to be a much-underused perennial.

So, yes, I've been slacking at the blog a little bit. Blame it on the mojitos. But here, finally, is the Seventh Day Project: July 2011. Take a peek into my world. Here or in the sidebar at right.

Silly dog sky

2011-07-06T21:56:00.000-05:00

9:20 p.m.

Rushing into July

2011-07-02T22:22:00.000-05:00

Allium moly 'Jeannine' is a departure from the pinks and purples common in the Allium genus. She is sunny and dependable and gets better year after year.

The state may be shut down, but there's plenty going on at sillydoggarden. Once the rain and the wind let up earlier this week, the party kicked into high gear: Roses, peonies, lilacs, iris (bearded, flag, Siberian), martagon lilies, hardy geraniums, thyme. The many players really know how to rock!

I'm planting out the last of the annuals this weekend, and the vegetable garden is pretty much in -- we need to re-sow beans thanks to all the rain. The good news is that the drainpipe installed between the cold frame and one of the raised beds worked like a charm during last night's downpour.

Bearded iris in the back. On the left is the Nebraska Immigrant and on the right is the iris from Chicago.

'Brand's Magnificent' is one of several new peonies in the garden. Like other peonies, the flowers are showy, the foliage is handsome and the deer don't seem to like them.

The 'Miss Kim' lilacs are spectacular this year. And the fragrance will knock your socks off!

And, here's a wider view of 'Jeannine.'

Rain delay

2011-06-21T21:46:00.000-05:00

The photo only looks out of focus. That's what happens when you shoot out a window wet from a driving rain. The blue blob in the center is a stand of iris.

Summer must not have received the memo. Her presence was nowhere to be found today. Wind. Serious wind. And rain. Serious rain. The rain held off until early afternoon so we were able to do some weeding, but much of the transplanting -- already late because of the cool, wet weather -- will have to wait. Sillydoggarden is soggy, sodden and saturated.

But -- looking on the bright side -- it's not a tornado, a drought, a fire or a flood. And the wind keeps the bugs down.

The weather people promise sun and 70 degrees by the weekend. Summer finally will show up and a planting marathon is on the agenda.

Seventh Day June

2011-06-09T10:22:00.001-05:00

Heucherella 'Rosalie.' Heucherellas are a cross between heuchera and tiarella.

The cool temperatures and plentiful rain have been good for many of the spring bloomers -- here's some of what's happening in the garden this early June. Take a peek around the place in the slide show in the sidebar.

Beautiful fawns

2011-06-06T21:13:00.000-05:00

We stumbled onto these babies in the woods behind our house this weekend. Brian spotted them just a few feet from where he was foraging for moss for making hanging baskets. He and the silly dog must have unintentionally spooked their mama and she took off. Fortunately, the silly dog didn't see the twins; Brian hustled Dakota back to the house and told me to get the camera.

We watched the fawns for a couple of minutes. They were still wet and may have just been delivered. They huddled together and tried to make themselves as small as possible on the forest floor. The Minnesota DNR says very young fawns have almost no scent and instinctively lie still -- adaptations that help them elude predators.

We left after taking a few photos -- we were sure their mother was nearby and wanting to tend to her twins. We felt privileged to have seen them.

At the end of the day ...

2011-06-03T23:26:00.000-05:00

... potatoes planted;

more peas sowed;

leeks transplanted;

campanula divided, moved and mulched;

'Autumn Joy' sedum divided, moved and mulched;

arugula harvested for salad for supper;

chives snipped for topping baked potatoes;

and a very tired Silly Dog fast asleep.

Spring in Winter

2011-06-01T22:13:00.000-05:00

The path from the lower parking lot to the display gardens and greenhouses.

I love how one of my favorite places to visit in spring is named Winter.

After months of cold and snow, it seems crazy that I'd look forward to visiting a place with that chilly moniker. But I always do. And the visit to Winter Greenhouse in Wisconsin never disappoints.

The folks there don't just offer plants for sale; they show them off in their display gardens. And how!

The sunny garden includes a pond.

A view of the sunny garden from the other direction, from under the crab apple.

The woodland garden was made possible by thinning trees and laying mulch-covered paths.

A bounty of plants -- including hosta, trillium, lungwort, ferns, lamium and spring bulbs such as daffodils and tulips -- fill the woodland garden.

Perfect little worlds

2011-05-29T22:12:00.001-05:00

Two cottages are surrounded by plants with tiny leaves and delicate demeanor that mimic a full-size landscape.

The idea of creating a miniature landscape or fairy garden never much appealed to me. It always seemed a tad too precious, too cute, too cluttered with ornamentation. But, after a visit to Winter Greenhouse in Wisconsin, I may become a convert.

The scene in one of the plant-filled greenhouses stopped me in my tracks. The display of two cottages and the surrounding landscape was nothing short of charming. The cottages looked as if they had been plucked from the pages of a fairy tale. Thyme and baby's tears became lawn; sedums and succulents and sempervivens became shrubs and trees; accessories were tasteful and not overdone. The plants, and the creative way in which they were employed, carried the day.

Winter Greenhouse has a web site devoted to its new venture in miniature landscaping -- it has inspiration and, of course, plants and products for sale. There's also advice on how to create your own landscape. Be advised, these are not no-maintenance projects. Like any landscape, they require upkeep to keep them looking good.

Muehlenbeckia complexa is trained onto the mini arbor.

The Underfoot Cottage has a sweet windowbox. Slender chives stand in for a tall hedge by the fence. And yes, that's a rock waterfall at left.

Thyme forms the upper lawn at the Mustardseed Cottage, and I think that's a jade tree near the bridge. Note the tire swing at the back of the house on the left.

A round bench surrounds a dwarf euonymus; pink hypoestes contrasts with the many shades of green. Delicate purple alyssum forms a hedge at left.

Savor the moments

2011-05-22T10:57:00.000-05:00

Ussurian pear in bloom. And forsythia (left).

A friend's serious medical emergency is a potent reminder to seize the day and savor the moments. Like some of these moments from the past week.

Tulipa humilis violacea

Tulip 'Professor de Mosseri'

Daffodils

Do we need a greenhouse? ...

2011-05-16T06:12:00.001-05:00

... You make the call.

Seedlings in the dining room along with some potted plants that will go outside when the weather settles.

Seedlings on the main light cart downstairs in the "plant room."

Tomato seeds on the heat mat in the "plant room."

Seedlings on the windowsill and bookcase in the "plant room."

A homemade light cart in the entry.

Yes, we start a lot of seeds indoors. Since these photos were taken, many of these seedlings have grown enough to be moved out to the cold frames. Others are taking their place. Crazy? Maybe. But it's the only way to get some of the varieties that we want. Plus, it's a whole lot of fun.

Must be spring

2011-05-15T21:12:00.000-05:00

The rose-breasted grosbeaks started showing up at the feeder a few days ago.

The first hummingbird of the season buzzed the daffodils and lungwort yesterday.

Lawn was mowed today.

Spring shows up for Seventh Day May

2011-05-11T21:32:00.000-05:00

Yellow twig dogwood in a pool of naturalized chionodoxa and daffodils.

A year ago on May 7, we had snow. This year, although spring has been slow to unwind, May 7 proved to be pretty darn nice.

Bulbs dominate now, with a few early-blooming perennials thrown in for good measure. The weather has cooperated enough that the tulips and daffodils are able to put on a good show.

See what's happening around our homestead in the slide show in the sidebar.

Daffodil mystery

2011-05-06T21:05:00.001-05:00

Where did these daffodils come from?

You can just make them out from the kitchen window. A couple of pale spots in the debris of stems and leaves covered by snow just a few weeks ago. I don't remember planting daffodils there. There across the bridge and a few feet off the path to the stream. There among the green shoots of the wild grasses shooting toward the sun.

But there they are.

Raindrops glisten on the petals.

I remember planting daffodils on the back hill and along the path that runs parallel to the ditch. And under the birch tree this side of the ditch. Several clumps have performed reliably over the years. A few others have disappeared. And these few -- well, they seem to have moved themselves and settled in. And they look as beautiful there as they do anywhere.

Silly Dog checks out a clump of daffodils along the path.

Easter

2011-04-24T22:10:00.000-05:00

A ground-level view of chionodoxa at the end of the driveway.

Sunshine. Blue sky. Warm. Light breeze. First long day in the garden this spring.

Chionodoxa in bloom. As is a tiny species crocus, C. olivieri balansae 'Zwanenburg.' Red-winged blackbirds. Grouse drumming. And frogs calling tonight -- just audible above the swoosh of the stream.

Dirt under the fingernails. Mud on the jeans. And mud on the silly dog.

Rebirth. Resurrection.

Dakota is happy the snow is gone, too.

Crocus olivieri balansae 'Zwanenburg' near the pond.

Two steps forward, one step back

2011-04-16T14:48:00.000-05:00

Around here, April showers often are April snows. No problem. The snow soon will be gone and the crocus should be just fine.

Above: The crocus berm Tuesday.

Right: The crocus berm today.

Seventh Day April -- with crocus!

2011-04-09T09:13:00.000-05:00

BECAUSE OF CIRCUMSTANCES beyond my control, The Seventh Day bled over into The Eighth Day this month. The pace of spring is quickening around here. We still have piles of snow, but we also have the first crocus in bloom. And the tips of tulips, daffodils and chives rising above the earth. Transformation is under way.

The Seventh Day Project: April 2011 has been posted -- see it in sidebar at right.

It's not just about the plants ... or the sculpture

2011-04-03T05:30:00.005-05:00

This is Henry Moore's "Oval with Points."

We encountered a bit of serendipity last summer when we visited the Denver Botanic Gardens. It just happened that the public garden was hosting "Moore in the Gardens," an exhibition of the sculpture of Henry Moore, when we were there in August. Talk about a two-fer -- we went there to see the plants and got to see amazing sculpture, too.

Apparently, we weren't the only ones who were impressed. Westword recently named the "Moore in the Gardens" event the best sculpture show in Denver.

I love visiting public gardens whether or not there are important art pieces there. Public gardens provide a major dose of inspiration. Even though the ideas may be on a grand scale, they often can be adapted for smaller, home gardens. And this visit was no exception.

TRADITIONAL REPETITION

Classic (albeit huge) terra cotta pots fronting symmetrical planting beds. Repetition is power!

UNEXPECTED REPETITION

Tall cactus and succulents in containers that are placed in water. Typically dry garden plants contrast with a wet environment.

REALLY BIG CONTAINERS

More succulents, this time in huge, shallow metal bowls. Bigger, fewer containers. Stunning.

CASTOR BEAN BONANZA

The designers used one of my favorite tropical annuals (that strip of deep maroon in the back) in a bed that also includes cardoon, squash and basil. It's a warm-climate tapestry.

TROUGHS

Yes, more big containers. Made of hypertufa, they're on the rustic side, but still beautiful, and perfect for plants they demand good drainage.

The Hotel Sillydog

2011-04-02T10:16:00.000-05:00

Do you think the deer are getting a little too comfortable around here? This one apparently was just waking up from a snooze in the backyard about 6:45 a.m. a couple of days ago.

Can you see them?

2011-03-30T21:52:00.000-05:00

They may not look like much but the first green tips of crocus are more than enough to lift winter-weary spirits.

Hoo-ray!

Save the black walnuts

2011-03-29T19:52:00.000-05:00

Someday, these three black walnut seedlings will be state park worthy. We planted them last fall -- they're still safe and snug under snow cover.

So, instead of focusing on issues such as creating jobs or designing a better tax system, some Minnesota legislators are pushing a bill requiring the DNR to cut and sell black walnut trees in two state parks to raise revenue.

What are they thinking? I don't see the point of cutting down trees that may be as old as a century or more for a cash infusion that really won't make much of a difference in the budget. The Austin Daily Herald calls the idea "wacky", and I have to agree.

It's all about timing

2011-03-27T09:24:00.000-05:00

Who says amaryllis are just for Christmas?

This one came out of the winter closet a couple of weeks ago. Its needs for dormancy met (at least eight to 10 weeks), it began sprouting new leaves and now has two fat flower buds. (Photo shows one bud, but there is another one.)

I'd say the five-buck investment was worth it -- this is the second round of blooms.

The National Arboretum has information on growing your own.

March (moon) madness

2011-03-19T09:49:00.001-05:00

Spectacular moonrise Friday evening. Lovely reflections on the driveway glacier. The silly dog alerted the neighborhood.

Bonfire ignites

2011-03-16T10:47:00.001-05:00

In the next few months, those little pale pink nodules will grow into a lush plant

with graceful orange-red bell-shaped blooms.

In bloom, Begonia 'Bonfire' is a hot little plant. Hot enough, in fact, to make room in the downstairs closet to overwinter it. A weekend check of the overwintering chambers revealed tiny nubbins of new growth on 'Bonfire.' Time to move it to brighter quarters!

I've been really happy with 'Bonfire.' The burn begins slowly, but will escalate into a full-fledged explosion of color in the next few months. It's easy care during the growing season -- I treat it as I treat most of my container plantings. That means a weekly shot of liquid fertilizer and nearly daily watering in hot weather. The last two summers it's had a place near the front door where it gets morning sunshine and afternoon shade. It may get moved to the backyard this year, near the pond but out of intense afternoon sun and where it may better fit in with the prevailing color palette.

Overwintering the plant couldn't be easier. In fall, right about the time of the first frost, I whack off the stems and leaves. It's brutal but necessary because I want the plant to go dormant. Make sure the pot is moist and move it into a dark, cool place. I use the big downstairs closet where we also overwinter the potted water lilies and store the potatoes and onions. I check on it occasionally during the winter and if it seems exceptionally dry I give it a sprinkle of water. (But not too much -- I don't want rot to set in.) Then, in spring, it tells me when it's ready to come back into the light, and I, gradually, over the course of a couple of days, acclimate it to brighter conditions. Once it gets a little more growth under its belt, it will start getting lightly fertilized, and, possibly, a new pot and fresh soil. Then, sometime around the end of May it will find its way outside.

Through the home office window this morning

2011-03-14T09:32:00.000-05:00

There is one patch of bare ground in the yard. In a semi-sheltered area near the back hill. Southern exposure. Can you say deer magnet?

Whitewashed morning

2011-03-12T21:18:00.000-06:00

Fresh snow, pewter skies ...

Little black petunia

2011-03-09T05:00:00.002-06:00

My fashion sense can pretty much be summed up in one word: black.

Black is classic. And it plays well with other colors. Maybe that's why my eyes zeroed in on the black petunias at the Annual Flower Trial Garden at Colorado State University last summer. The petunias -- 'Pinstripe,' 'Phantom,' and especially 'Black Velvet' are catching a lot of attention. The March/April issue of Northern Gardener magazine features the three cultivars in a story about new annuals; other horticultural publications also have picked up on the petunias -- especially 'Black Velvet' -- bred by Ball.

It was the color that turned my head and the heads of the experts evaluating the plants' performances in the sunny, dry climate of Fort Collins, Colo. On evaluation day on Aug. 9, 2010, 'Black Velvet' earned the highest marks among these three petunias, scoring 6.8 out of a possible 10. Judges noted its "incredible" flower color but uneven habit. In September, in the end-of-season remarks, judges described 'Black Velvet' has having a unique color, many flowers and moderate vigor.

We happened to be in Fort Collins in August at about the same time as the plants were evaluated so I can vouch for the "incredible" color. It was deep and rich. My only disappointment was that, like so many petunia descendants, there seemed to be little fragrance.

I see 'Black Velvet' more as a container plant than a bedding plant, although it could be striking tumbling along the edges of a light-colored walkway. It would be classy in a silver or mossy green container mixed with something white such as bacopa or alyssum or lobelia. Or maybe an urn of 'Black Velvet' petunias surrounded by a collar of the lime-green foliage of creeping jenny. Hmm ... opportunities await.

Seventh Day March

2011-03-08T13:19:00.001-06:00

Morning with the silly dog.

A year ago at this time we were seeing the bright green shoots of chives and the red-purple tips of early tulips. Not so this year -- all is still buried under the snow. And it's likely we'll see more snow this week.

Sigh.

Nevertheless, we gave it the good ol' college try -- here is The Seventh Day Project: March 2011. (See sidebar at right.)

Jam-a-pa-loo-za (featuring chutney gluttony)

2011-03-06T12:06:00.000-06:00

The results of an afternoon spent canning.

The plan: Pear Chutney, Brandied Cherries, Ginger-Grape Jam, Tomato Jam (two versions), Current Jelly.

The setting: A sunny kitchen on Minnesota's Iron Range.

The players: Five women in need of a late winter pick-me-up.

We gathered on Saturday with fresh gingerroot and other spices; garden and farmstand cherries, grapes and tomatoes still colorful and flavorful after several months in the freezer; and a collection of various sizes and shapes of jars along with the kettles and other paraphernalia necessary for a fun afternoon of canning and catching up.

Pear Chutney was new to me and highly anticipated. Here's the recipe:

Golden Pear Chutney

3 pounds hard, underripe pears, peeled, seeded, and chopped (about 6 cups)
3 cups light or dark brown sugar
3 cups apple cider vinegar
1 tablespoon mustard seeds
2 teaspoons cayenne pepper
1/4 pound crystallized ginger, chopped (about 2/3 cup)
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon Quatre-Epices
1 cup dark raisins
1 cup light raisins
2 cups chopped onion
1 lemon, peeled and thinly sliced

Cook the pears in water to cover until they are medium-soft. Drain, saving the water, then make a syrup of the water in which the pears were cooked and the brown sugar by boiling in a large nonreactive pot until thick, about 20 to 30 minutes. While the syrup is boiling, add the remaining ingredients to the pears, then mix everything together and cook for about 30 minutes or until the raisins are softened, the onions are transparent, and the chutney has a good thick consistency. Transfer to sterilized jars and seal; process in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes.

Chopped pears, lemon, onion and raisins ready for canning.

Ladling the cooked ingredients into clean, warm jars.

Adjusting the water level in the pot.

Steam rises from the canner.

Beautiful!

Thinking warm thoughts

2011-02-26T08:34:00.000-06:00

Why do furnaces always act up on extra-cold weekends? Meanwhile, maybe a peek at some bulb favorites photographed last spring-- fritillarias, daffodils and tulips -- will trick me into feeling warmer.

Simply inspired

2011-02-25T12:23:00.000-06:00

This is Rosa. How can you not love her? Her beehive-inspired hairdo is made of rose petals. Her earrings appear to be tiny grass flowers. At her neck is a wildflower gathered in El Salvador.

Rosa was created by Roxhana, a member of Arte Comasagua, an artisan's organization that handcrafts designs, such as this line of greeting cards, from native plants and flowers in El Salvador. Arte Comasagua is affiliated with Hope for Women, a company that helps provide sustainable employment to economically disadvantaged women worldwide.

Rosa caught my eye on a shopping trip to the Cities. I love the way this card uses the old-fashioned craft of flower-pressing and mixes it with a few simple strokes from a pen to evoke a fresh, contemporary design.

Here comes the sun

2011-02-22T09:40:00.000-06:00

We're definitely seeing more daylight in our days. Seed-sowing begins soon!

Seventh Day Project check-in

2011-02-10T10:34:00.001-06:00

The sky was flat and colorless until sunset on Feb. 7.

We still have weeks of winter left at sillydoggarden, and the season is starting to try my patience. I try to make do with seed catalogs and houseplants and sorting through last year's images of Plant Kingdom favorites, but it's not enough. I want to walk through the garden without hearing the squeak of snow beneath my boots. Is that too much to ask?

Being in a mood like this, it was exceptionally challenging to document The Seventh Day Project: February 2011. But, with the silly dog by my side, I ventured out to see what was what. It is beautiful, but it looked a lot like January. I can only hope that the march toward March will have us in a warmer, more colorful place.

(The project has been posted; see sidebar.)

Waxwings!

2011-02-02T14:16:00.001-06:00

Here's a portion of the flock of waxwings perched in the trees earlier this week.

Suddenly, there they were in the aspen trees on the other side of the garage, clearly visible through the front window and the dining room windows. It was a flock of 50 or so waxwings. And so began the debate: were they cedar waxwings or Bohemian waxwings?

Some quick bird book and internet research later, we agreed they probably were Bohemian waxwings -- the rufous under the tail is what clinched it. In December, the Star Tribune reported that Bohemian waxwings were being sighted in large numbers across northern Minnesota. And the Crane Lake Nature Blog described a sighting of a flock of Bohemian and cedar waxwings together along Superior Street in Duluth in January. That blog also has some really nice photos showing the difference between the two waxwings. For good information about waxwings, check out the Cornell Lab of Ornithology's All About Birds.

We're just happy these feathered wanderers found their way to sillydoggarden.

A touch of spring

2011-01-22T14:40:00.000-06:00

Oh yeah -- horse chestnut!

OK, so we may be experiencing the coldest days of this winter -- it's 2 degrees above zero as I write this and it was minus 31 degrees Friday morning in Two Harbors -- but we still received the promise of warmer days in the mail this week. The Forestfarm spring catalog is here.

This is always a big deal. It sets in motion all sorts of dreams and plans. Most of which will get scaled back as the bank account is consulted. But not all.

Forestfarm has a stunning selection of trees and shrubs and perennials, the prices are reasonable, and the quality of plants is good. Minutes after getting his hands on the catalog, the resident chief tree-planter was marking possibilities with a red pen. We'll let everything simmer for a few days and consider other planting needs before making final decisions.

Meanwhile, it will be fun to curl up with the catalog and a cup of tea or a glass of wine and imagine the possibilities. Mind you, this catalog doesn't tempt you with glossy full-color photos. Its only color photos are inside the front and back covers. (But lots more photos online.) It tempts you with sheer volume -- I counted 53 dogwoods!

Want a catalog of your own? Go here. Forestfarm has the silly dog seal of approval.

Memory aid

2011-01-19T16:23:00.000-06:00

I live in a land of dramatic contrasts. In January, it's good to remember that July will come. A snapshot tucked into a Christmas card from my sister is a quick and easy reference to what last July looked like in roughly the same area of the garden.

From here to there

2011-01-09T15:46:00.000-06:00

In April 2010 ...

Sometimes you have to look back to see where you were and what you've accomplished to appreciate where you are. A new year is a good time to review how quickly change can happen. You can see some of those changes at Sillydoggarden in 2010 here.

... and in September 2010.

Geraniums save the (Seventh) day

2011-01-08T10:51:00.001-06:00

Fuzzy foliage and delicate color -- what's not to love about this chocolate peppermint-scented geranium in bloom under the lights downstairs?

Outside, the going was tough. Snow. Gray skies. A few seedheads stretching above the snowbanks. There is beauty in winter, but this Jan. 7 I also craved a hit of color. The scented geraniums, or more accurately, pelargoniums, obliged. The blossoms are small, but they did the heavy lifting on this Seventh Day Project. See what I mean in the slide show at top right.

Fresh from under the snow

2011-01-03T02:00:00.001-06:00

We dug under the snowbanks around the deck to find some fresh thyme for seasoning the New Year's Eve jerk pork. This is Thymus vulgaris, the basic culinary thyme. It's perennial, and we'll be growing lots more of it come spring.

This candle sports a collar of fresh lingonberry. With snow up to my shoulder I managed to clip some of this perennial glossy ground cover to use here. The stems, left uneven for a looser, informal look, are stuck into a wet block of florist's foam.

It's amazing what you can find when you start digging.

Iced greetings

2011-01-02T14:56:00.000-06:00

I hung this wreath made with cranberries and scented geranium leaves on one of the plant supports in the garden. Sunshine is starting to chip away at it.

I've been wanting to make one of these for six years, since I worked on a newspaper package about ice wreaths in December 2004.

I used a Bundt pan but any gelatin mold will work. I filled the pan about half full using a bag of fresh cranberries and water and left it outside to freeze. Once that layer was solid, I finished filling the pan with water and left it to freeze.


Found deep in the bowels of the Christmas closet.

Unmolding the wreath was as easy as running a little water over the pan in the kitchen sink. Add a wide ribbon and you're ready to hang it on a post or a trellis or prop it against a snowbank or chair. Depending on the weather and whether it's displayed in direct sun, the wreath can last for days or weeks around here. When it does melt, the cranberries are a treat for the birds and other critters.

Actually, all sorts of ingredients other than cranberries can be used. Orange slices would be pretty. So would rings of green pepper. Other choices include spruce and cedar sprigs, cinnamon sticks, walnuts, and glitter. For one wreath, I added leaves from my peppermint-scented geranium plant for a counterpoint to the cranberries.

This one is just cranberries. I propped it in the snow on a bed of balsam.

Colorado dreaming

2010-12-30T18:09:00.000-06:00

It may be called a children's garden but this scene at the Gardens on Spring Creek captivates adults as well. Love the painted pots as heads on the scarecrows.

If I still lived in northern Colorado, I'd be heading over to the Gardens on Spring Creek in Fort Collins to get tickets to a presentation by Lauren Springer Ogden, author of "The Undaunted Garden: Planting for Weather-Resilient Beauty." (She also is the namesake of 'Lauren's Grape' poppy. The stunning single purple flower first popped up in her garden.)

My copy at home.

"Undaunted Garden" recently has been revised and updated -- I have a copy of the first edition and it is one of my go-to books for inspiration. How can you not appreciate an author who talks about surveying a garden pummeled by hail after a few stiff drinks? (Substitute deer damage for hail damage and you'll see what I mean.)

The presentation on Jan. 22 is a fundraiser for the Gardens on Spring Creek, which, thanks to friends Kevin and Mary, we visited last August. It's still very much a work in progress, but I was impressed with things so far. Its 18 acres include a Children's Garden, Entry Garden, and the Lauren Springer Odgen Garden. The Garden of Eatin' has a spiffy outdoor kitchen for cooking classes.

I've never had the chance to hear Springer Odgen speak, but if her talks are anything like her book, it would be well worth it. If you're in the area, go. And then let me know what you think.

Giant watering cans mark the entrance to the Children's Garden.

Espaliered apple trees screen part of the outdoor kitchen.

The pavilion's green roof sports a variety of plants.

I want some of this. It may be marginally hardy here, but I think it's worth a try.

In lieu of The Seventh Day ...

2010-12-25T14:59:00.000-06:00

It snowed most of the day on Dec. 21. These dried hops blossoms

wear hoods of snowflakes.

... we give you The Twenty-first Day.

Between studying for finals and whatnot, Dec. 7 came and went without me picking up the camera. To make amends, we're subbing in photos taken on Dec. 21. Take a peek into our world in the slide show at top right.

Winter solstice

2010-12-22T17:10:00.000-06:00

On the shortest day of the year, we unburied the fire pit and stoked a fire to bring some light into the dark. (The snow finally stopped falling after about a foot. On top of what we already have.)

We stayed warm with sips of Jagermeister from the makeshift bar. No problem keeping it cold here.

And were greeted with some blue skies the next day.

Meet the relatives

2010-12-10T10:13:00.001-06:00

Poinsettias fill the benches at Anderson's Greenhouse & Florist in Two Harbors. It was fun to walk among them during the greenhouse's
annual open house last Sunday.

The poinsettia, Euphorbia pulcherrima, a symbol of the holiday season (above), and cushion spurge, Euphorbia polychroma, a gardenworthy perennial (below), share a genus, but are very different plants. Like some people I know, it's hard to believe they come from the same gene pool, but they do. Go to former NPR reporter Ketzel Levine's discussion of Euphorbia here.

If you're looking for a poinsettia to dress up your home, check out Anderson's Greenhouse & Florist in Two Harbors.

Euphorbia polychroma from the mid-May garden.

This is what gardening looks like in December

2010-12-03T10:59:00.000-06:00

A snowy harvest of parsnips. These are 'Gladiator'.

The snow fell early this year. It started falling before all of the parsnips were pulled from the ground. But, hey, what's a little snow in a Minnesota garden?

So, on a day when temperatures hovered in the mid-teens, it was time to shovel back the snow and harvest parsnips before the ground froze solid. I came home from class to find the resident head gardener, with his faithful companion close by, digging and pulling the pale roots from the ground.

Two trays full of parsnips were brought inside for cleaning and storing in the refrigerator; a bunch also went to Scott, who was hard at work installing an air exchanger in the house. A short row was left in the ground, topped with some straw mulch, to overwinter until spring.

We love parsnips -- sauted, gratined or souped, parsnips are a good bet to fill the void come winter. For dinner Wednesday night, several nice-sized roots were topped, tailed, peeled and sliced into a pan with some melted butter. Seasoned with salt and pepper, they cooked gently until tender and were a tasty side to the breaded pork chops.

Talk about timing. Even in December, it can be a matter of a few hours from harvest to supper. Brilliant!

Brrrrrr!

Window Box Week

2010-11-19T23:37:00.065-06:00

This is the window box Angela worked on the day I was there.

Here's the vision: Window boxes and pots full of greenery outside every home and business in town from now through the holidays and into March. It's not such a crazy proposition when you listen to Angela Stocke, the creative brains behind Angela's Bella Flora in Duluth.

The sign welcomes visitors.

Angela wants to create a winter container movement. We live in a part of the world where it's mostly cold and snowy from November through March -- a window box arrangement on the porch or outside the front door can help take the edge off until spring.

I learned some of the finer points of outdoor window box design at one of Angela's demonstrations during the recent Window Box Week celebration at her shop. Here's how she built the box with the bird and the flame willow in the photo at the top of the post. It took her less than 45 minutes to pull it off.

A bird's nest is tucked into the bottom of the window box.

Start with a base of greenery using a variety of traditional greens such as spruce, pine and balsam. The display is meant to be viewed from one side so build up the back so you have a background against which color and do-dads can strut their stuff. Mix up the texture with other greens such as Port Orford cedar and yellow incense cedar that are more wispy and lacy. Add some leafy branches of boxwood and seeded eucalyptus. All are stuck into water-saturated blocks of floral foam in the bottom of the box. The greenery hides the foam.

Angela works on a second window box.

Angela had decided on a color palette of orange and pink for this box so she added branches of pepperberry and some fake orangy persimmons. The pink blossoms on the right are protea, a tropical plant that Angela is experimenting with in cold-weather window boxes. She expects it will dry in place and look good for several months.

The bird perches on flame willow that Angela buys from a farm in Wisconsin. The stems are flexible and malleable. She stuck some on either side of the box, bent them toward each other and used a wire wrapped with brown tape to hold them together. (The bird hides the connection.)

The final touch was a bird's nest with eggs tucked into the foliage. A surprise, Angela said, for people who take the time to look a little deeper into the arrangement.

MORE ADVICE FOR DESIGNING YOUR OWN

1. Choose a color palette. Sticking to a palette keeps you on track and allows you to collect various tchotchkes over the years to add to your design scheme. That also keeps the budget in check because you're not buying all new stuff every year.

2. Look at what you have in your own yard and garden. Maybe you can build a base with stuff you have for free and then spend a few dollars on pepperberry or variegated boxwood or sparkly balls or sticks. Add and subtract items so the display doesn't shout Christmas or Hanukkah around Valentine's Day.

3. Use standard floral foam and make sure it's super-soaked. Put the foam on top of the water in a bucket and let the water slowly fill all the pores in the foam. Don't force it.

4. These boxes are meant for cold-weather display. Use wood or plastic containers. Once everything has frozen in place, you won't need to water. And the display will last for months.

Those are brown magnolia leaves among the evergreens. This box is a nice balance of humble (readily available conifers) and Hollywood (sparkly balls).

Pheasant feathers and huge sugar pine cones are easy companions in this box on display outside the store. The cones don't come cheap -- almost 6 bucks for one -- but they are impressive.

Shoppers examine the fresh greens and other natural wares.

This simple crate brims with evergreens and glittery purple stems and balls.

Don't stop with boxes. How about a hanging basket?

Or a simple swag?Sweet!

I'm inspired. The silly dog and I will be out gathering supplies. I think I can do something fun with that lingonberry we're growing.

Two reasons why we cage trees and shrubs

2010-11-17T17:08:00.000-06:00

1. This doe about to enter the yard.

2. And this doe already in the vegetable garden, trying to snack on the remains inside the pepper house.

Both were midmorning visitors on Tuesday.

Winter ...

2010-11-14T23:30:00.000-06:00

... has arrived in the form of 6 inches or so of heavy, wet snow.

Seventh Day November is here

2010-11-11T12:39:00.001-06:00

The lush summer garden is gone, but there's still much to enjoy in the November garden. Take a peek in the slide show at top right.

Karen cooks Kale and Cannellini Soup

2010-11-07T23:47:00.000-06:00

Kale and Cannellini Soup from Bon Appetit magazine. The kale, carrots and garlic are from the garden. To prepare the kale, use a sharp knife and cut on either side of the center rib. Discard the rib and give the leaves a rough chop.

True. I am not making this up. I made a pot of Kale and Cannellini Soup for supper this weekend. From scratch. With minimal coaching from the resident chef.

And it was delicious.

The kale is a variety called 'Nero de Toscana'. It has thick, puckered leaves that seem to get sturdier as the days get colder. You could probably harvest it in the snow -- assuming you could keep the deer off it. An old bed sheet protects the crop now.

The recipe is from November's Bon Appetit magazine. Note that you make the Beans with Kale first -- you get enough to make an appetizer one day and the soup another day. The recipe is easy to follow and doesn't require any fancy techniques or equipment. We didn't have any Italian seasoning on hand so I subbed in some thyme and basil. Instead of toasted baguette slices, we had extra Parmesan cheese to garnish the soup and crackers on the side. And we did without the final drizzle of truffle oil.

This is not a wimpy soup. It has depth and substance and flavor. There were no leftovers.

This is how the kale looked in September.

Good eating on a blustery fall evening

2010-10-24T10:20:00.000-05:00

Boeuf Bourguignon Before: The day's harvest included (clockwise from left) parsley and thyme for the bouquet garni and peppers for salad; Purple Haze and Nelson carrots, yellow and red onions; Austrian Crescent potatoes; small yellow onions for braising.

Boeuf Bourguignon After: The main dish was accompanied by steamed Austrian Crescent potatoes, garden salad, a freshly-baked baguette and peaches and cream for dessert.

Several weeks back we enjoyed a visit from family from Illinois. The day they arrived was cold, windy and wet, and the resident chef made the perfect call by preparing Boeuf Bourguignon to welcome them for their weekend stay. He loosely followed Julia Child's recipe in "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" doing what good cooks naturally do, adapting the recipe to suit their own tastes and available ingredients. Child says in the cookbook, "as is the case with most famous dishes, there are more ways than one to arrive at a good boeuf bourguignon. Carefully done, and perfectly flavored, it is certainly one of the most delicious dishes concocted by man ..." Amen to that.

It's cold and gray today and I'm remembering how delicious that meal was -- good food prepared with garden vegetables harvested only hours earlier, a simple table setting with tealights and small bouquets of sedum and parsley, plenty of red wine and good conversation. It doesn't get much better than that.

Update: The Great Black Walnut Experiment

2010-10-17T11:37:00.001-05:00

The black walnut seedlings were planted Sept. 7 to give them a chance to put down roots before winter. No soil amendments necessary.

Just barely up.

Last November we planted 14 pots of black walnuts. Having never tried to grow black walnuts before, we kept our expectations realistic. Information from the Extension Service suggested that maybe half (seven) would germinate. Well, we didn't hit the halfway mark, but we still feel pretty darn good that three did germinate.

Starting to flush.

None of the pots were coddled. They were left out in the snow and cold all winter to satisfy their stratification needs. As temperatures warmed in the spring, we checked to make sure the pots didn't dry out, but that was it. By the end of May you could see the seedlings -- hunched over but ready to pop and grow.

The three seedlings.

Black walnut (Juglans nigra) is interesting partly because it is an allelopathic plant. (Definition alert: Allelopathy refers to the ability of some plants to produce toxic substances that can affect other nearby plants. It's one way to beat competition for space, light, etc.) Black walnut produces juglone, a chemical that can be toxic to certain sensitive plants such as tomatoes. The West Virginia University Extension Service has a list of plants that are sensitive to juglone and some that are tolerant.

By July the three seedlings were green and sturdy. In September, they were ready for planting.

We chose sites back along the nature trail, put them in the ground and caged them to give them a better chance at survival. The rest is up to them.

Just planted on Sept. 7.

Now, the leaves have dropped and without the cage, you'd be hard-pressed to locate the seedling.

Seventh Day October

2010-10-09T09:31:00.000-05:00

Dakota leads the way from the stream back to the house on an unseasonably warm Oct. 7.

We've entered a new season, and already it feels like it's slipping away. Autumn won't wait; you have to be ready to get the most pleasure out of the changing colors and the extraordinary light. Choosing plants at sillydoggarden includes consideration of fall color. You'll see some of our choices in the slide show/album. And you'll see some of the borrowed landscape that adds so much depth to the garden this time of year. As always, check it out in the sidebar at top right.

Night visitor

2010-10-04T19:14:00.001-05:00

Caught redhanded! A raccoon made a bold, but unsuccessful, attempt on a birdfeeder on a recent night.

The silly dog was first to notice the raccoon on the deck the other night. Out on the final-before-bedtime pee, Dakota stepped out the side door, stopped, turned toward the deck and stuck his nose in the air. Something was amiss, he seemed to be saying. Then I heard the thumping.

Suspecting raccoons, I got Dakota back in the house and then got the camera. Sure enough, there was one, balancing on the deck railing with his back to the house. A feeder full of sunflower seeds dangled above him. He seemed to be in no hurry to leave, so I snapped a few photos, took Dakota out front to do his business and then took another look. Still there. Still there an hour later. Are we that scary?

Raccoons can be trouble in the garden. They'll eat the goldfish in the pond and feast on the corn. In fact, the first raccoons we saw this year was just as the corn was ready to harvest. Coincidence? I think not.

Fortunately, we had the motion-detecting sprinklers to protect the corn harvest. And we have Dakota to alert us to trouble the rest of the time.

Worth it on every level

2010-10-03T10:09:00.000-05:00

Saturday morning there were 21 open flowers and 6 fat buds about to burst on this potted brugmansia. I left a second, bigger potted brug to take a temperature hit and it will move directly to its winter location without a sunny stopover.

It's not easy growing tender beauties such as brugmansia where winter temperatures dip way, way below freezing and spring doesn't really get under way until May. But then you get a flush of bloom like the one this week and all the hassle is worth it.

This potted brugmansia came in one or two weeks ago when the weather forecast made it clear we were flirting with damaging temperatures. It bloomed earlier this summer and had just set another round of buds. The plant typically drives me crazy -- the foliage always tends toward the chloratic side no matter how much fertilizer I give it, and inside it drops most of its leaves into a messy pile on the floor. The leaves that remain are a magnet for spider mites. But it MUST come in for the winter or die so I haul it in (it's heavy!) and let it go dormant by not watering, cutting it back a smidge and putting it in the dark closet under the stairs. And it will get there, and stay there until next April or so, after these flowers are gone.

Meanwhile, it makes a statement in a corner of the dining room. The fragrance reminds me of a load of laundry fresh in from the clothesline. It's especially nice at night when the blossoms fully open and the fragrance wafts throughout the main living area.

I love this plant. I can't imagine my home without it.

Touring (and a small rant)

2010-09-30T23:52:00.001-05:00

Michael Tonder creates impressive sculptures from glass that otherwise would find its way into a landfill. Last weekend, his work became a temporary sculpture garden on the shore of Thomas Lake.

This week, autumn is showing her spectacular side with a bounty of colors that shimmer in the sunshine. It's a great time to do a little touring along the North Shore, and the Crossing Borders Art Tour is a great excuse for getting out and about.

For 10 days a group of artists from Duluth to Grand Portage open their studios to the public and you can meet the people behind the pottery, metalwork, woodturning, weaving and more. We visited several of the studios last weekend and feasted our eyes on all the beautiful things ... except there were no plant-pots or other specific garden-related gear.

This seems to me to be a wasted opportunity. Especially when it comes to pots. I saw many, many beautiful pottery pieces on my tour -- some probably could be used in the garden -- but nothing that said "plant me." I asked one of the potters why I was seeing only plates, bowls and mugs but no planters. Was it competition from mass marketers? Was it economically silly for an artist to produce planters when the plates and bowls sold so well? He agreed that it probably had something to do with the economics of producing a planter. He pointed out that a reasonably-sized planter takes up the same amount of valuable real estate inside the kiln that several smaller pieces take up. And he'd have to charge more for the planter than the smaller pieces. But the less-expensive, smaller pieces are more likely to sell. So, at the end of the day, he doesn't see the market supporting him making planters when there are so many nice-looking pots coming from places such as Vietnam.

His argument makes sense, but it doesn't completely persuade me. I'd love to see local artists do some cool pots that would be appropriate to plant in or use as cachepots. These wouldn't be the workhorses of container gardening, but there are certain plants or certain locations that deserve something with a little extra kick. Any ideas where I can find some?

P.S. The Crossing Borders studio tour and sale continues through Sunday. For information, see crossingbordersstudiotour.com.

Seventh Day September (finally!)

2010-09-21T11:27:00.000-05:00

It's mostly annuals, including cosmos, alyssum, salvia, kale, celosia, bacopa, peppers, squash and marigolds, in this bed in the backyard.

Already, Sept. 7 seems like eons ago. Change happens fast in the fall, and we're seeing the rich golds, reds and browns of autumn (more on that later). Putting together this album is a good reminder of why I try to spend time in the garden every day. There's always something going on that wasn't there the day before.

Patience, please

2010-09-10T23:41:00.000-05:00

The main computer at sillydoggarden -- you know, the one with all the images! -- is down and may be out for the count. So, until that situation is resolved, posting will be limited. Seventh Day Project: September is in the camera, but it will be a few days before it gets uploaded.

Meanwhile, Leslie Land has a nice post on cimicifuga -- it's a favorite here, too. And I can vouch for the scent. I was just out setting up the scarecrows to guard the corn (raccoons have been out and about) and the fragrance was wafting through the back yard. Very nice!

It's not always about the garden ...

2010-08-31T12:28:00.000-05:00

... sometimes it's about the silly dog.

A hot, hot day is the perfect day to give Dakota a bath. Whewww ... now he smells better!

Change on the wing

2010-08-31T11:30:00.000-05:00

Those tiny flecks against the sky are nighthawks, which really aren't hawks at all.

A small flock of nighthawks passed over sillydoggarden on Sunday. On their way to South America, the birds swooped and turned and counter-turned, all the while catching flying insects in their mouths. You can't tell by my miserable photo attempt, but they have white bands on their wings that are visible in flight. A change in season is imminent. Can the hummingbird migration be far behind?

The Star Tribune writes about nighthawks here. And John Latimer describes watching them as they move south.

And then there were two ...

2010-08-12T13:23:00.000-05:00

... will there be tadpoles?

Seventh Day Project celebrates one-year anniversary

2010-08-11T12:36:00.002-05:00

If it's August it's time for some deck sitting. And this year part of the view includes drifts of orange cosmos.

It's hard to believe I've been doing this for a year -- of course, you can find something in the garden every day to celebrate. True. Even in winter.

This year the Seventh Day stretched a bit into the Eighth Day because of a wonderful long weekend spent with out-of-town family. In any event, there are some remarkable differences between August 2010 and August 2009, no doubt due at least in part to this summer's extra-warm July. One notable benchmark: The Casa Blanca lilies are blooming now; last Aug. 7 they were still in buds. Another benchmark: The corn is twice as tall as it was last year at this time.

I had considered dropping the Seventh Day Project after a year, but I think I'll keep it going. I'm having way too much fun.

As always, check out the photos in the sidebar at top right.

If you love lilies ...

2010-08-09T10:57:00.000-05:00

This lily is from my garden, not from the Lily Ladies. Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera with me on the shopping trip but you can find colors similar to this one at the backyard nursery we discovered by chance.

... and are in the Duluth area, take a spin over to the Lily Ladies at 4029 E. Superior St. My sisters-in-law and I were in town to do a little shopping over the weekend and happened by chance onto the Lily Ladies. The tiny backyard nursery specializes in lilies and we wandered about the potted plants and drank in the intoxicating fragrance. The mother-daughter team has a great selection of potted lilies, including a yellow-pink one that I may have to go back for. The lilies are 10 bucks a pot; they also offer some other perennials including a few hostas and heucheras.

The Lily Ladies is open Saturdays and Sundays through Aug. 29. Hours are 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturdays and noon to 4 p.m. Sundays.

New neighbor

2010-08-01T23:20:00.000-05:00

The new neighbor is a quiet sort. I have yet to hear him call.

The four goldfish in the pond have company. A small frog (probably a green frog) apparently has taken up residence in the former bathtub turned garden water feature.

He/she nestles into the moss between the stems of the umbrella palm, where he seems to spend hours barely moving. He is neatly camouflaged but if you look close you can see his throat swelling and falling. Occasionally he moves to a place on a waterlily leaf or suns himself on the flat rocks that line the pond's edge. It must be something of a dream home for a frog. The water stays nice and warm -- sort of like a comfortable bath -- and there's plenty of food nearby.

Which is not to say that he can't move fast when he needs to. Startle him and you'll hear the plop of frog on water before you can make out where he lands.

Annual fava bean supper

2010-07-31T10:33:00.001-05:00

Fava beans are cushioned in pods. The skins of each bean will slip off after blanching.

I'm not sure how many years we've celebrated the fava bean, but it's enough that it's become an anticipated summer rite. The resident head gardener plants just enough fava beans in early spring so we're assured of one or two pickings and one or two generous dinners. Last night was the first one of 2010. In looking back, we're a few days early this year. Doesn't matter, the Fava Fest is one of those roaming, non-date-dependent jubilees.

Fava beans are easy to grow but require some work to prep them for eating. Hence, one reason we only grow enough for a few suppers. I harvested the gnarly-looking pods in the morning and shelled them immediately. It's a pleasant task -- peel back the pods and see how many beans are nestled inside the soft, comforting confines. The giant pods may hold six plump parcels of fava-beany goodness. After shelling there's still more prep work before the beans are ready for cooking. During a break from weeding, I blanched the beans for several minutes in a pot of boiling water, dumped them in a bowl of ice water and slipped them out of their skins. Each individual bean is pinched at one end so the edible bean slips out easily. Pinch and slip. Pinch and slip. Pinch and slip. The skins make a lovely pile of compost fixins'. The beans go back in the fridge until it's time to make dinner.

Now the favas are ready for a quick saute in butter and seasoned with salt and pepper. Quick, out of the pan and onto the table with lamb chops, garden-fresh greens, homemade chickpea flatbread (highly recommended!) and a bottle of pinot noir. Yum!

Fava beans take on a beautiful color after a quick saute in butter.

Everyday miracles: Lilies

2010-07-15T00:01:00.001-05:00

After a day of rain the damp air is perfumed with the scent of 'Regale Album', a Chinese trumpet lily.

Romancing the gypsy moth

2010-07-14T12:08:00.004-05:00

The plane from the Department of Agriculture makes a pass over the homestead.

The sound of airborne engines started Saturday and continued on Sunday. First to the northeast and then to the southwest. Back and forth. Back and forth. Over and over. Heard but not seen.

But by Sunday afternoon the source of the noise was in full sight overhead. A bright yellow plane from the Minnesota Department of Agriculture was flying a pattern across land surrounding the Knife River. The plane flew low -- maybe 50-100 feet above the treetops -- as it delivered its payload of gypsy moth pheromone.

Pheromones are chemical messengers emitted by insects (and others) to communicate all sorts of things, including the readiness to mate.

The pheromone drop is part of MDA's mating disruption strategy to fight the gypsy moth, a non-native pest that has the potential to defoliate forests and stress trees to the point of death. Here's how it works: The pheromone, called Disparlure, is sandwiched in plastic flakes or embedded in waxy droplets which are then dropped over the targeted area. Female gypsy moths can't fly so they produce this pheromone to attract a mate. But with all this extra pheromone around, the males can't find the females and there is no mating, no eggs and no offspring. The strategy works sort of like employing chaperones at a high school dance.

The MDA says the treatment is effective and safe and won't harm people, pets, fish, birds or mammals.The information the MDA sent us regarding the application said the flakes and droplets stick to leaves and branches and often go unnoticed. If we hadn't been home, we never would have known as we could see no evidence of the drop.

The view toward the end of the driveway.

Seventh Day July up for viewing

2010-07-11T17:26:00.000-05:00

'President Tyler' morning glory in a pot with sweet peas and 'Wine Red Basket' alyssum. This alyssum isn't as vigorous as the white varieties, but it's nice in containers.

Here's a peek into what's happening in the July garden. Check out the slide show top right. Enjoy!

This morning

2010-07-06T23:14:00.000-05:00

The sun burns off the fog in Clover Valley. Pinks and maroons dominate here with my favorite 'Lauren's Grape' poppies, left and right, leading the way. Lilies just started blooming a few days ago.

A good time was had by all

2010-07-05T22:46:00.000-05:00

A little fire, a little fountain, a little jerk chicken and (more than) a little mojito. Now that's a splendid Fourth of July!

Note to self: Plant more mint. I use common spearmint to make mojitos and grow it in several pots around the deck and yard. It's a no-brainer of a plant -- keep it well-watered, fertilize occasionally and snip at will. But keep it in pots unless you want it running all over the place.

Here's how I make mojitos for two. In a cocktail shaker, muddle eight or so sprigs of mint with 2 ounces of simple syrup and 1-1/2 ounces of fresh-squeezed lime juice. (Use as much mint as suits your taste -- I like it minty.) Add 3 ounces of white rum and a couple of dashes of bitters. Add ice and shake. Divide between ice-filled glasses and top with club soda. Garnish with a sprig of fresh mint.

Let's hear it for ...

2010-07-04T05:00:00.002-05:00

... the red ...

Maltese Cross (Lychnis chalcedonica)

... white ...

Shasta daisy

... and blue

Allium caeruleum

Where else would I be?

2010-07-03T09:55:00.002-05:00

The purple in the foreground is penstemon, the red is Maltese Cross. The purple in back is Baptisia australis. The spiky foliage up front is blue oat grass (Helictotrichon sempervirens).

Normally, I wouldn't recommend mixing purple and red like this, but for some reason I find this particular combination appealing. The red Maltese Cross (Lychnis chalcedonica) has moved itself about the bed, situating itself wherever it feels most comfortable -- this year that's pretty much in the middle of a stand of phlox (not yet in bloom) right next to purple penstemon (not sure of the variety). The plants seem to have made their peace with each other in a loud, semi-obnoxious sort of way. It's not co-existence for the faint of heart, but they do manage to get along nonetheless. Surprise, diversity and tolerance all grow here.

A boatload of blooms like these and a couple of days of summer sunshine and I'm reminded of a conversation several Julys ago with a former colleague. I had just returned to work from a week's vacation and John was asking me what I did with my time off. I stayed home, I told him, and did odds and ends around the house and garden. You know, I said, this time of year there's really no place else I'd rather be.

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I was struck by how true they were. When had that happened? When had my roots gotten so deep?

Comfortable summer evening

2010-07-02T13:17:00.000-05:00

The silly dog monitors the situation while resting between the fennel and the just-germinating carrots in the vegetable garden. Dakota is good about sticking to the paths in the garden, but he's a big pooch so sometimes a few footprints are inevitable.

Meanwhile, just across the way, the head vegetable gardener tends to a patch of onions by the cold frame behind the potatoes.

A night's lodging, but no dinner

2010-07-01T23:20:00.000-05:00

This painted turtle seemed to materialize out of nowhere. All of a sudden there he was motoring out from under the Arctic blue willow. He spent a night in our pond where, fortunately, he didn't eat the goldfish (or plants). And then, the next day he was gone. Just passing through, apparently, on the way to some grand adventure.

In the wild, painted turtles can live to be as old as 40. I wonder how old this one is ...

Everyday miracles

2010-06-25T11:06:00.000-05:00

Bearded iris 'Dusky Challenger' (Yet another day of rain this week.)