I know, those of you living on Diamond Ridge are looking out on at least two feet of snow. I have the advantage of living here for 50 years, hindsight, history ~ the snow will go and you will garden. Your vegetable plot will catch up to mine. It all shakes out in the end. Believe me. Trust me. This is a snow load like we used to have. We lived at Mile 15 East End Road for 20 years, the snow came in early October and left, maybe, by early June.
Gardening in the sub~Arctic is challenging. Keep in mind that we have chosen to live here. Think of the positives: clean air and water, natural beauty. Hold these thoughts close.
The clumps of armeria that Molly gave me about three years ago provided nesting material and nutrition for rodents this winter. They truly loved it, as do (did) I. There are two more clumps in the West Garden that I can break up and spread around to fill in where the others once graced the edges with lovely blooms that last all season.
I did a lot of dividing, buying, moving perennials last season, that effort is proving fruitful. There are plants bursting forth everywhere. Its still too cold to do anything in the vegetable plot but soon the starts in the greenhouse will be set free. Its still early, no rush.
The primulas are tiny but blooming. They hold the promise of more blooms. The three that I bought in the depths of winter (two survived living on the dining room table) are nestled next to those that joyfully emerged from the deep deep snow. The hellebore (Ivory Prince) is in FULL bloom.
The greenhouse. How I love that greenhouse. The tomatoes are thriving having set buds but are a long way off to production. I can wait, they are worth it. The lettuce is providing us with a salad a day. Once again, I start four plants every ten days. This provides us with enough lettuce to see us through the end of the growing season. Same with the radishes. Just a short row every ten days. Enough is enough. They are harvestable, nice and crisp, red, FRESH.
The annual flowers are all potted up. I think I rushed them but they look good, strong. I don’t have much of a selection this year. I really am trying to cut back. Plus, I like a lot one thing and this garden is too small for one of this and one of that. I admire this in other gardens, not mine.
I let the peonies be the backbone of the perennial beds, much as they have become ubiquitous they still bring joy to my heart, reminding me of my grandparents. I’m filling in around them with various salvias, campanula glomerata and thalictrum. I add the annuals: various poppies and cosmos. It all seems to work without a huge amount of thought or effort.
John drove copper pipes next to the crowns of the peonies. I will try again this season to tie up the heavy blooms. Although they are caged in the grids that are made specifically for peonies they just are not tall enough. Having Googled how to prevent peonies from flopping over I discovered the pinwheel method. Tie each and every stem to the central stake. I did this to one plant last year but I didn’t tie each stem. Ultimately they fell over, so this season I’ll go with each stem. I’m ready.
Also this morning (my favorite time to be in the garden) I ran my hands over the strawberry bed yet again. I’ve done this three times now. I pull up old plants, you can’t miss them, they are dry and pull away so easily. I used my finely ground egg shells to prevent slug infestation. I know, I’ve read the articles too, this is supposed to be ineffective. Well, it sure works for me. I pour some down between the soil and the boards that form the raised bed, then I spread them over the soil around the plants. I considered spreading straw under them, this is why they are called strawberries, the straw keeps the berries clean. But then I remembered that I tried this before and ended up providing a haven for slugs. Don’t want to repeat that mistake. Plus they aren’t out there long enough to get dirty.
I have Sitka berries. These are looked down on by those of you who want strawberries that look like the ones from California, large, red all the way through, tasteless. But the advantage of the Sitka is their flavor. Delicious. You need to pick them right away even if they don’t look ripe. They are more pink than red. They survive the worse that the Far North throws at them.
I have had a major victory: For several years I have been harvesting a handful of seeds from whatever minor bulb has seeds ready and scatter them under the red twigged dogwoods hoping for a bit of color and, eventually, a mass of colonized minor bulbs. Well, this year is the year. There is a little clump of chionodoxa in bloom. I’m beyond delighted.
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