This bearded iris is named BANANA FRAPPE’. It’s blooms glow in the afternoon sun.
It is alone in a bed because it is a bully. That means it grows quickly and hogs all the space.
My slow-growers must be isolated from the aggressive bullies like Banana Frappe’.
FLOWER
I am back home for a weekend. I am back to purge the un-needed and fix the broken and play PIBWIB. (put it back where it belongs). I have run out of clean clothes in less than 48 hours. So I had to decend the steps into the dark belly of the house.
I have never liked the narrow laundry room. The adjoining darkest corner room houses boxes from Rose’s college apartment. Kitchen supplies, linens and furniture for a future on-hold. I won’t share a photo of that mess.
I went to my shop which still has the big plants I could not move out on my last visit. I needed a short piece of chain to repair a hanging solar light beside the entrance to the pebble patio with no furniture and a few weeds. No photo.
I save scraps of anything that might be useful later, thus there are many junk drawers and boxes of craft supplies. I knew just where to find scrap chain and wire. I will not share photos of that untidy chaos either.
I have done hours of trimming in the gardens. I left piles for Mr. Flower to haul to the gully. The beds look neater…for now. No before photos will make the blog. Only staged after pictures. The whole truth never makes the cut. Only the successes. Is this misleading?
I will share only the lovely scenes. You will see only the bright blooms and thriving plants. No one cares to see the weeds and debris in piles. No one wants to witness the ugly part of gardening…and life.
Is leaving out the whole truth a lie? Is omission really a sin?
That’s where my head is right now, after abandoning my writing project. The research I spent months doing uncovered the reality of squabbles and sadness and elopements and a suicide that were never shared.
The unpretty pasts of folks I never met. The keeping of their secrets is a bit haunting. That’s what I was thinking about as I preened my gardens to make them pristine and picture-worthy. Only share what is presentable and hide the rest.
We all want our best selves to be seen and remembered. It’s only natural. What would be gained by exposing the ugly? They took things to their graves for their own reasons.
Tidying up their lives to make them presentable was like me cleaning up a flower bed for a photo shoot. Somethings are best left unsaid and unseen…and yet.
FLOW
My dove nest got relocated due to poop and peskiness. Rose’s car was being pooped on and Mr. Flower did not enjoy the company of dive-bombing doves. He startled them leaving for work in the dark. No eggs were involved.
The nest was removed. The plastic sleds were put on top of the old wooden sled to discourage future nesting. I am not happy that my friends were made to feel unwelcome.
I was sitting in the carport lamenting my loss, when I spied a pile of sticks on a frame with hardware cloth attached to it in the front corner of the carport. It is a bit too close to Mr. Flower’s precious truck.
I climbed up on the trusty ladder again to get a better view. There was that familiar little eye looking back at me.
I hope Lovey Dovey can roost here unpestered.
Fingers crossed,
FLOW
This is the most beautiful bearded iris I have ever seen. It is also the only hybrid rescued from the vole attack at Enwood, my parents’ former home.
I feel blessed that it survived being eaten, being moved and being transplanted. Its real name is ‘Let’s Dance’ but I will always think of it as Daddy’s Last Iris.
FLOWER
I was surprised by a young dove that was not surprised by me while I was home. I walked with in feet of it before seeing it. It stared at me like I was just another part of the landscape.
The doves had been watching us from up in the carport trusses. They were habituated to people coming and going, so they were not startled by a person passing.
The nest sits on top of an old sled. I wanted this title to be Sledding Doves, but that would be too much of a stretch, even for me.
I climbed Daddy’s sturdy ladder to take a peak at the nest. I was eye-to-eye with the dove when my head poked above the ceiling joists.
The nest was a messy pile of sticks. Just enough form to keep the eggs from rolling away. I read that doves take turns parenting their young, so I do not know which parent was on the sticks.
I am happy when wildlife settles down around my home. These doves were a sweet surprise.
FLOW
What a difference twelve days makes in the garden this time of the year. My busy husband sent me some flower photos this morning. I took similar pictures while I was home in early April. Let’s compare them.
I dug up about half of this Ground Orchid while I was home and filled in the hole with good soil. It has really taken off blooming since then.
The pink Persian Berry is a bully. The blue Ship Shape and deep purple Night Affair hold their own better than more timid growers like Little Much.
I have read that deer do not eat Spiderwort, but something eats the one in the front yard. This one is in the now bunniless, bunny yard. Safe from whatever eats the other one.
Every day is different once plants start growing and blooming. I inspect plants several times each day during spring.
I am happy Mr. Flower and Rose are enjoying our blooms at home. I appreciate seeing my flowers from afar.
FLOWER
My friend Palmer has a gift. Every plant I have ever given him has performed better. He is a tenacious gardener. Palmer has a care schedule in his head. I cannot compete with this plant whisperer.
I made a trip down the mountain just to see his azaleas. Palmer is a zealous azalea artist. Many of his shrubs had to be moved due to road construction at a property line.
He carefully moved dozens of old azaleas and is nursing them back to their prime. Due to this event he had to redesign beds and fill in holes. This is why you may notice a mixing of mature and new shrubs.
Palmer stated that he liked for the various shrubs to mesh together like a painting. This will happen because he trims them by hand carefully to avoid the artificial squatty shapes formed by hedge clippers. Those balls and squares are not natural.
The undisturbed beds have a flow and mixing that is delightful. I especially liked this mixing of light pinks, dark pinks and white.
The trimming to make the front shrub dense is evident here. I need some training Palmer!
I like how the circular beds have a tall centerpiece such as a Flowering Dwarf Crabapple or a small Redbud.
He just got a Okame Flowering Cherry to put as a focal point elsewhere. He keeps a running list of plant wants like I do my grocery list.
I really think the secrets to a show-stopper display are flow, variation and healthy plants.
This yard has taken a lot of thought, planning and work. My friend Lucy, his wife, is the back-up waterer. If you have azaleas, you know how important her role is. I always enjoy visiting these two friends and their yard.
FLOW flew south
I have been wandering and pondering this morning. It is a day that needs balancing.
My mama died on the morning of April 12, 2025. She has been gone a whole year. One Thanksgiving, one Christmas, one birthday and one Easter. I am planting a pink garden on the mountain in her memory.
I am home now. The site of more loss. Life goes on whether you are paying attention or not. There are things lost whether you are paying attention or not. Many things disappear while you are not looking.
My garden has missed me. My house has missed me. I am okay with that. I do not have the strength nor the stamina to stay here. I must not lose myself.
I toured my gardens with my camera this morning. I took only lovely photos to share, except for one.
This scene you will recognize. These two statues are named Lily and Moss. I have written stories about them. Today, I will let a photo tell the story.
There are many kinds of loss. I miss my well mama, but not the sick suffering one. Her loss was gradual. We lost bits of her long before April 12. Little steps that sometimes went unnoticed. That’s how loss works. It is sneaky.
Are you paying attention?
FLOW
I came home for a few days. I have hauled most of my small plants out of my workshop. I cannot budge the big ones. Mr. Flower will have to assist.
I hate to admit that my heart no longer loves them like it used to. I feel their need pulling me down. Thank goodness I have given about 2/3 of my collection away.
I did some weeding and trimming today. I also took photos of my garden. Here are a few.
This huge azalea must be protected by fence. Any sprout that sticks out is eaten twig and all my the herd of fifteen deer.
This gentle iris was surrounded and strangled by some bullies, especially pink Persian Berry. It has thrived on this bank in isolation.
Rose and I spotted a visitor as we sat in the swing. Our friend the fox trotted across the yard and headed up into the woods. I was thrilled to see it looking so healthy.
My iris bed has two types blooming now. Persian Berry and Thunder Echo.
I am glad to be home, but next time I come, I will have my assistant joining me. Seeing so much to do and not being able to do it was frustrating.
FLOW and the fox
floweralley 