Bye bye social media

My plants must know, better than I do, that winter is on its way. Yet they’re showing little signs of giving up hope yet. The edible dahlias – which in theory I should be lifting this month – are still unbelievably floriferous. I took this picture on yesterday morning, after chopping back the floppiest ones yesterday. Ryan took the ‘discarded’ flowers round to his mum.

Despite the damp weather on Saturday, we went out and planted the potatoes in my new raised beds in the Sunset Strip – one bed each of Kifli (which – since it’s not labelled – I need to note is nearest the house) and one of Axona. We had some spare Axona tubers, so I’ve planted up two crates as well. They’ll all need earthing up in due course, but hopefully by the time they poke their first leaves above ground, the risk of frost will have passed!

On the morning of Saturday 4th May, in a stiff breeze, we dismantled lavender shed.

Common chickweed is a low, spreading, winter annual weed that germinates when we receive lots of cool, wet weather. Its leaves are opposite each other, smooth and elliptical in shape. It is tolerant of a variety of conditions and thrives in moist, shady locations. This weed can produce seeds five weeks after germination and will continue to produce seeds for months. Each common chickweed plant can produce over 800 seeds and the seeds can lay dormant in soil for up to 10 years. Even once the weed is uprooted, it can continue to produce seeds and can even reestablish itself, if left on the ground.

What can we do about moles and voles in the home lawn and landscape? First, we need to know how to tell the difference between the two, in other words “know thy enemy!” For more information on how to tell the difference between moles and voles, please see HGIC 2366, How to Tell the Difference between Moles & Voles.

The past two years have been far from ordinary. We have all had to learn how to navigate a world with new safety standards and health precautions. From mask-wearing to social distancing and new restrictions on some of our favorite activities, the COVID-19 pandemic has drastically altered our daily habits. Although we have managed to adjust to these “new normals” for some time now, we now have to navigate another holiday season during a global pandemic.

WHEN I AM PASSIONATE ABOUT SOMETHING, it’s hard to shut me up. I love plants, and frogs, so I blog about gardening; I love being a sister (well, most days I do), so I blog about that, too.

H ELLO SPRING, AND GOODBYE SPRING, all in one sizzling weekend as fiery-hot as this overblown tulip. Freezing a week ago, now the garden and I are suffering from burnout. I feel a weather rant coming on: complaints to register, anybody? Or shall we look on the bright side: Yes, the magnolias will come and go in a total of 72 hours, but there’s asparagus for dinner.I plant tulips for cutting only, not in my beds, and plan for bouquets to span the several weeks of tulip season by selecting an early, a middle and a late variety.

It’s just a start; some things aren’t even planted yet, and nothing has grown in, of course. But I wanted you to see what I’m trying (and tell me what caught your fancy for containers this year). Click on the first thumbnail to start the slideshow, then toggle from slide to slide using the arrows beside each caption. Enjoy.Other Timely Mid-June TopicsPots don’t need to contain soil; they can be mini water gardens. Here’s how. As we watch the spring garden crumple, remember: Nothing lasts (and that’s OK). Which oregano is the one that tastes good, please? So confusing! I first formally “met” doodler Andre Jordan last June. Here’s the doodle that drew me to him. Categoriesannuals & perennials container gardeningTagsMargaret Roach

As I told reader Lynn the other day, when she commented about her own snow-damaged landscape, I start working while it’s snowing. During the storm at several junctures, I gently knock heavy loads off some vulnerable evergreens, especially, to prevent buildup. I always use a broom where I can reach, and make my movements in upward strokes (not pulling downward, which further adds to the weight and can split the wood, especially in brittle pines, for instance).I never mess with ice-encrusted branches; too vulnerable. On taller specimens, I use a 10-foot piece of quarter-round molding (above) from the lumber store—my secret weapon, left over from a home improvement a decade ago. It’s about an inch thick, and the trick is it’s sturdy yet flexible, so I can weave it up into the higher branches and sort of wiggle it around slowly (in a small lasso motion) without inflicting damage

By intermediate, or x intermedia as it would be stated in formal botanical Latin, it means that ‘Jelena’ is a child of two great parents: the Chinese witch-hazel (Hamamelis mollis) and the Japanese species (H. japonica). Their offspring (hardy in Zone 5-8) are mostly fragrant, and all bloom early and have hot fall foliage besides.I have said before that if garden centers were open in February or March in cold-climate zones like mine, I am certain that early blooming Asian witch-hazels would knock the far-more-vulgar (and admittedly later) Forsythia out of the ring. I call the latter “vomit of spring.” Witch-hazel I call simply beautiful.‘Jelena’, with its coppery, scented flowers, is more horizontal in stature than another I made a spot for, the vase-shaped ‘Pallida’ (above). I’m figuring on perhaps 10 or 12 feet in

This next week I’ll recap some best-of highlights of the website, and the public-radio show and podcast that came a few years later, and who knows what else of a celebratory nature (like maybe some giveaways). But for now just this:Scroll all the way down to the bottom of this page to say hello in the comments and tell me something you’ve enjoyed in that time, or some subject you’d like more of. Tell me how long you’ve been reading, if you like.a little backgroundTHOSE OF YOU who didn’t know me then might not know that starting the we