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Here it is, almost Thanksgiving and this post should be, by all rights, about the Sage plants we have in the herb bed behind the house. But due to significant work demands these past few weeks --plus the return of Standard "Dreary" Time-- I've barely been able to get outdoors during the day (if there's even sun!) except on weekends, thus no photos. To be honest, I think it also has something to do with a subliminal fear of fully comprehending the ever expanding browning die back of most of the plants. Of course, the Hollies still (and always) look smashingly green and healthy with their red berries. If I had dared venture out last Saturday when it was snowing lightly, I might have even been able to capture a bit of it against the holly, but no, it was too chilly and I didn't want to take my slippers off and have to put shoes and a jacket on.... Sloth won. No matter, there will be plenty of opportunities later this winter for just such occasions, I'm sure! Not that I'm looking forward to that, but I guess a garden photographer has to take the opportunities he has, not the ones he'd like to have.... (NO apologies to Donald Rumsfeld, but that was a particularly ridiculous turn of phrase that has always stuck in my mind!)
Anyway, this will be my final propagandistic plug for the humble Calendula officinalis for this year. I've repeatedly sung its praises far too long, but in case you missed those or can endure one more shameless plug, this is an annual that every gardener should grow somewhere in a sunny spot of the garden! And now is prime time to plant them so you'll have them up in the spring (if you live in an area where the ground is seriously starting to cool down now). Just lightly rake up an area where you get at least 4-5 hours of sun a day (soil is not a huge issue), toss the seeds around and cover them lightly with dirt and forget about them. They come up steadily over the early spring to summer months, and at first will look almost like lettuce seedlings, only more substantial and a bit hairy. Once you've identified the seedlings (thin if necessary), just let Nature take her course and prepare for early summer blooms that continue to last well after frost! Then you get the bonus of even more seeds for the following year, either to share with friends or let them run wild in your garden. As Ina Gartner would say, How easy is that? You can always pull them (*gasp*) if they're horning in on a favorite or you can dig and transplant them while they're still fairly small and they won't mind. Planting Calendula is a very small investment to make in the garden (especially if you get free seeds from a friend) that, if you're pleased with the results, will pay off handsomely in future years. Nuff said. No more Calendula till next year, I promise.
As the High Holidays bear down upon us (is Thanksgiving the feast before the frenzy or famine? This year, I'm not so sure.), so I'm not sure what direction this blog will take in the next few months, save for my annual Ornament Blogging features. Of course there will be snow ... and toward spring, the emergence of the courageous early bulbs, but in the interim, I'm always at a loss for pertinent subjects after the Holiday Blitz has concluded. So ... what would you loyal readers be interested in seeing here over the winter months? I love to post film reviews and commentary on politics and current events, but I'm never sure whether people find these posts interesting or informative, so I'm certainly open to suggestions. Let me know what you think in comments here and in future posts. Of course, when we get particularly great shots to post, they'll be appearing here, that's for certain. If random musings on something that captures my attention on a given day are something you'd like to see, I have plenty of those, lol.
As always, thanks for stopping by and reading! And a very Happy Thanksgiving to you all, if I don't manage to get that Sage up in time!
Jeff (aka IVG)
Well folks, at this point, I think I've just about navigated to the end of denial river, and am beginning to bargain reluctantly with Fall, trying my best to enjoy the unique pleasures it does afford the melancholy gardener at this time of year. After all, we have enjoyed a fairly decent harvest of garden goodness from the tomatoes, corn, onions, leeks to the inadvertently planted pumpkins. As you can see, preparations for the grand Halloween season have begun (thanks to Fernymoss for picking up the slack while I was sick this past weekend) with the arrival of the Punkin Dude! Even though he's usually a harbinger of colder times to come, so far this year we've avoided a hard frost, though it's just a matter of time before it happens and all the remaining color in this part of the garden will be a mere memory until next year.... Still, we'll enjoy it until the bitter end, and I'd just like to point out a few flowers that can provide you with some late fall firepower until that moment comes.
I know I've sung the praises of Calendula officinalis previously, and here's yet another reason why I value this humble 'Pot Marigold' so highly ... just check out those fresh, cheery yellow and orange flowers blooming late into October! Just think ... this particular patch of Calendula has been blooming since June! What more could one ask of an easy self-seeding annual ... over five months of bloom time? If you want more, then you're a more demanding gardener than I am! They've been putting on seeds for a few months now, and though that usually means the end of most annuals, these lovelies just keep on blooming! And only a very hard frost will kill them and stop their show....
Here's a nice close up of an appropriately colored (for the season) Calendula cascading over the edge of one of the front boulders near the steps approaching our house. I'll repeat (ad nauseum) just one more time that I haven't replanted these Calendulas for about five years, and just scatter their seed after frost to ensure their reappearance next spring. If you're interested in growing these no fuss beauties, now (or very soon) is the time to plant them, once the ground has cooled (generally after a killing frost) and they're unlikely to germinate until the ground warms up next spring. Your only other option is to get them out very early in the spring, when, honestly, few gardeners are thinking about digging around in the dirt while it's still cold and lifeless (at least I don't care much for that activity). Sow them liberally where you want them to grow, perhaps raking up the dirt a bit just to cover them and let them winter in place, where they'll pop up in early spring and start to bloom in late May to early June through frost. As Ina Garten would say, How easy is that? Then just either let them fall in place after frost or break up the seedheads and fling them around an area where you'd like them to colonize and your work is done!
On a quick visit today, I saw that Gail is still enjoying her Celosia 'Caracas' down in Nashville, and I suspect that ours will succumb to the cold before hers, but now is a great time to be gathering seed, as the color recedes from the blooms (I'd better get busy doing this myself soon!). But they also provide some great colorful fall accents when everything else is looking pretty ratty, worn out and drab in the garden, and I've noticed that as the weather has inevitably cooled lately, the foliage is taking on an even deeper shade of red, changing along with the leaves on the trees as the season progresses, until they are soon snuffed out by a killing frost and their seeds will go dormant until early summer next year when we'll hopefully have many more popping up in this area....
This is a wider view of the area where 'Caracas' was planted near our stand of 'Porcupine Grass' (Miscanthus sinensis), and as you can see, both have been beaten down a bit by some of the heavy rains and windy storms we've had over the past few weeks. Normally, my inclination would be to stake up the Celosia a bit, but at this point in the season, we tend to just let Nature take her course and let things fall where they may ... besides, Halloween is nearly here and it just seems to add to the generalized spookiness the front garden takes on for the holiday, with its scattered bones and tombstones....
As I wandered around to the Woodland Garden after work today (when I took these photos in the late afternoon), I saw that the Daturas are still hanging in there and blooming away, so I had to pause and get a few shots ... Fernymoss remarked --for a reason that escapes me-- that this one was very 'Georgia O'Keefe.' Ok, I'll go against the grain here (bring out the pitchforks and torches) and say that I've never quite "gotten" the whole enthusiasm for her work. Yes, she did some pretty paintings of flowers, but honestly, her paintings usually just leave me cold. It's not that I don't like women painters (au contraire!), but give me some Remedios Varo or Frida Kahlo any day, because I find their work infinitely more fascinating than O'Keefe's. But I digress ... this is a lovely Datura bloom, isn't it?
Ah yes, the ever present, now weed status Zebrina Mallow, which became quite the pest in the corner boulder bed this year ... despite my aggressive hacking away at it a few months ago, I did allow a few well behaved plants remain (they are really pretty after all), and as you can see here, the cooler weather also has its effect on the late season blooms ... they become darker, bordering more on the magenta hue than their pure purple and white of the warmer months, and what's more, they often bloom past the 'bitter end' of a hard frost and only a hard freeze finally sends them packing for the year, after they've dropped their multitudes of seeds. But as you all know, I'm a really mallow kind of guy, so it's difficult for me to try to eradicate them completely, but then again, check back with me next spring as I labor plucking out all the unwanted ones....
Finally, believe it or not, the Castor ricinus 'Carmencita Rose' plants we grew in a big pot this year are actually setting on some seeds! Though these plants haven't reached full size (7-8 ft) because we grew them in a container, they have been blooming profusely lately, and we may just be able to collect some viable seed to save (are you interested, Marnie?) for next year. These seed pods are very strange, as you can see, and they remind me of some kind of sea anemone or sea cucumber, or one of those weird denizens of the deep. Of all the Castors one can grow, this is by far my favorite (although Zanzibariensis comes close), due to its striking architectural look and the brilliant bronzy foliage that positively glows in the late afternoon sun (of which we are sorely lacking these days). It's well worth planting as a specimen plant in the garden where you have an area you want to accent a striking plant (in full sun) that you won't see in just any garden. Then again, we kind of pride ourselves on being 'not just any garden,' for better or worse!
Yes, there are more Toad Lilies to come, but I'm still behind a bit in posting of late, but there will be more soon!
Ok, some of my favorite garden bloggers faithfully observe a "Bloom Day" each month to showcase what's going on in their gardens. Dolt that I am, I never seem to know when it is until I read their posts! So forgive me a few days' tardiness (and my natural tendency to generally be late to the proverbial party!), and I hope you enjoy this belated contribution.
This post is organized as a sort of an ad hoc garden tour, startng from my front door, down along the edges of the front boulder bed, through the Woodland Garden, the small herb bed behind the house, and on back to the hibiscus bed in the parking. This first shot is a volunteer Celosia that I noticed a month or so ago nestled between the rocks by the steps that lead up to the entry of the house. When it first appeared, I wondered if it would be a mutant (one of those weird "Pineapple" ones like we've had the past couple of years. Click on the label "Sports" down below to see what I'm talking about.), but as it turns out, it's pretty much faithful to the original plant we set out years ago. Funny ... I wonder if, after mutating a few years, such sports start reverting back to their original forms after a period of time? Something to research more about in my many moments of free time, LOL. Anyway, I'm glad it popped up where it did and think it's quite pretty!
Here we have a Calendula in bloom, about two steps away from the previously mentioned Celosia. I found this one especially attractive, so had to pause to snap a few shots of it as I continued down the walk in front. I know I'm always plugging these, but honestly, there's hardly an easier flower (ok, maybe Zinnias) to get established as a returning annual in the garden. Just keep them happy and watered in a sunny place their first year, pull off the seed heads, separate them and scatter them about, and you'll have more the following year, and successive years after ... They're edible, have great herbal properties (skin care) and so darn pretty, how could any lover of fire colors do without it? 
Regular readers will recognize the frequent "Bee Butt" shots I post when I get a good one, and since I know that some of you are fans of them, I present the August, 2008 Bee Butt of the Month. I got several of this bee working on Zebrina Mallow flowers at the corner of the boulder bed, and thought this was the best one to share. It was unbelievable how many bees were working in this area, which, frankly, has gotten out of control this year, with so many Zebrina Mallows up everywhere, that we are going to have start controlling them more. I did pull a few tonight where they were shading out more important plants, but while we were weeding this evening, there were just too many buzzing around that we just didn't want to risk ticking them off, so we worked some in the Woodland Garden instead. And to think a few months ago (June) I was prematurely lamenting the disappearance of our wonderful Bumblebees! Though we may both inconvenience each other from time to time. I got loudly "Buzzed" by one when I was pulling the Zebrina Mallows, but it was only a friendly warning. Of course, I then backed off quickly....
I had to include a few examples of the various Zinnias I have planted among the veggies and herbs right behind the house, because they are just now starting to come into bloom in the various places we have them planted around the garden. I really like this happenstance combination of the red and orange, but as you probably know, I'm really big on the fire colors so I'm always delighted to have them wherever I can on whatever I can! These haven't reached their mature height yet, but I've noticed that around the neighborhood where people have Zinnias planted, they seem to be blooming at a much smaller height than usual. I'm not sure what's up with that, but given the downright bizarre Spring-Summer we've had this year, it could well be an effect of the weather....
Again, we're in pretty much the same spot, different flower ... I just really loved the how the orange came through in this shot, as well as the amount of detail the camera captured at the center of the flower. (Have I raved enough about how much I love the Fuji S700? LOL) I think that every gardener who uses annuals and has a sunny spot should have to answer this question affirmatively: Got Zinnias? Such a cheap investment to plant seeds and you get back so much from them when you pamper them just a bit as they get going, and from then on, heat, humidity and drought barely touch them! Darn near perfect if you ask me -- which of course you didn't, but just in case.... 
One more for the road, as it were ... I'm never quite sure whether to refer to this as some shade of pink or magenta, but whatever it is, this color inevitably shows up in the mixes I buy to plant every summer. And I'm delighted with it, because these are always real eye poppers in the garden, no matter its designation. There are other ones blooming elsewhere in the garden, and you'll likely see more in the coming weeks, so consider these three to be but a brief preview from this month....
Let's revisit the Torenia I was touting a while back as the perfect replacement for Impatiens ... I guess I slightly honked off some Impatiens fans a while back when I bad mouthed them as "old lady flowers" and these are what I recommended to replace them. These two plants have done quite well over the summer and have expanded their spread quite a bit since we first planted them. They're quite happy to share their space with the ivy we have planted as a ground cover in this area, as well as the omnipresent ground ivy (aka: Creeping whoever... Charlie, Jenny, who else?). Only when I uploaded this shot to the computer did I realize I had also caught a maple seedling ... which will be dispatched soon, post haste! You can also see (to the left) one of the Toad Lilies that is starting to bud out (I think it's 'Amethystina'), but all you can tell right now is that it will be some shade of purple. To the right is one of our Hellebores that has been doing pretty well this year, so we hope it will bloom next year ... I wonder what color it will be, as this one has yet to bloom for us....
I don't think anyone will have to guess too hard what this bud is ... In fact, a few regular readers (who shall remain namelss) are probably just salivating at this tempting sight ... the long awaited blooming of His Majesty the Kopper King! I'll be devoting an entire post to this personal favorite very soon (maybe even tomorrow, depending on how wiped out I am by work at that point). I've been hearing from Gail that hers refuses to bud out and we suspect that lack of sun is the culprit ... but Shady Gardener has it worse! Hers is being eaten alive by some sort of critter ... a voracious caterpillar we suspect, but in any case, I'd really be whining if mine suffered the same fate! Hang in there, Shady, and hopefully it will manage to bloom for you this year! If not, just repeat the age old Gardener's Mantra: Next year....
Well that's it from here for August Bloom day around here! There were a lot of other things I would have liked to include, but given the length of this post already, they'll have to show up later. Never fear though, I really milk the photos I get for all they're worth, so I hope no one feels slighted, hehe. I took all these shots on August 16 and 17, 2008, so they're an accurate reflection of how we were viewing things the past two days. I'll try to remember the right date for Bloom Day next month, but don't hold me to it!
It seems only fitting that some of our fieriest flowers really get going during one of the hottest months of the year around here, so tonight I thought I'd share a few, along with a bonus bug. The first two shots are of one of the many Calendula ('Pot Marigold') we have here and there in the boulder bed out front. Fernymoss originally introduced me to Calendula, and I've been hooked ever since, especially since they're such great self-seeders. Once you've grown them successfully one year, just let them drop their seed (or spread it around as we do), and you're virtually guaranteed that they'll be back the following year. What's also nice is that their seedlings don't resemble any kind of weed (at least to me) and make me think more of emerging lettuce seedlings, though they quickly get hairier and grow much taller (topping out at about 18-24 inches). For us, they usually start blooming in late May or early June, and just keep going right on till frost ends their season. And, as I've noted in a few previous posts, Calendulas cross-pollinate freely and produce some rather interesting sports and mutants....
Fernymoss says that the beetle on the Calendula is called a "Spotted Cucumber Beetle," which I suppose might pose some threat to cucumbers, but alas, we couldn't find the variety we usually plant this year, so we have none for it to pester.
Calendula has a long, fascinating history of cultivation that dates back to ancient Greece and Rome, and has continued up to this day. It has been used in medicines, dyes and more importantly today, it's still used in many preparations destined for skin care. Tom's of Maine's natural toiletries even has a Calendula based deodorant that Fernymoss likes very much. (He's a bit of an amateur herbalist, which is why he wanted to plant these originally.) I also have seen a lot of lotions that contain Calendula as an ingredient, so its cultivation for therapeutic uses appears as popular as ever.
And in case you didn't know, Calendula is the true Marigold, so what one usually thinks of when one hears Marigold are the French varieties, which are an entirely different species of plant. I've never tried growing them in pots, but according to what I've read (and its popular name), it's an entirely workable proposition that could be really cost effective and pretty if you're limited on sunny spots or funds ... seeds are gardening on the super cheap, but you just have to be a little more diligent getting them going. I think I'll try some in pots next year, just to have them move around a bit more in the garden.
I took these last two shots on July 17, just as these Rudbeckias started blooming. Then every time I got out and about town, I couldn't help but see that they had conspired with all their area cousins to burst into bloom all at once. What a lovely sight it has been to see them sharing the sun with Coneflowers and other sorts of plants (Lilies, Cleome, etc.) in others' gardens around town. What's not to love about these sturdy, reliable sun lovers? I'd like to hear at least one horror story about them ... I have a feeling I'll be waiting a while for that....
Here's a larger view of this particular clump, and they're leaning every which way in the late afternoon sun, looking oh so wild and happy where they are, in some of the poorest soil on our property along the fence line we share with our neighbor's driveway. Though I've probably mentioned this before, it bears repeating: they're great clay busters, and the ones we planted several years ago in our neighbor's (the one who gave us the boulders) flower beds are doing just fine and blooming their hearts out too. And, to be honest, in his beds, they get less than no attention at all and are thriving in the very heavy clay he used to fill in his garden terraces. (To paraphrase Mr. T, "We pity the fool who willingly filled that all in with clay ... just because it was free!")
I'm still tapping my foot and getting a bit impatient for the perennial hibiscus to start blooming, but I just keep reminding myself how everything is 2-3 weeks behind this year due to the exceptionally long winter and rough spring we had this year. Yesterday, Shady Gardener told me in a comment that she had heard that Iowa has already surpassed its normal annual rainfall ... and it's only late July! Given all the rough spots we've had this year at Casa IVG, I'd say things are looking pretty good around here, though as is typical, there are some really unkempt and wild spots we still need to address. Once the brutal dew points (at one point today it was 78! Positively tropical!) and heat we've had the past few weeks lets up, we'll be able to dig in a bit more to tidy things up. I know that's what I'll be doing for at least a little bit this weekend if it doesn't rain again....
Why am I such a fan of fiery colors in my favorite flowers? The answer is simple, so I'm told: I'm a 'clumped up' Leo according to a chart Fernymoss did a few years ago, which basically means I have tons of planets clustered around me on the chart. I guess that's unusual, and Fernymoss would have to explain, but I'm apparently a Leo's Leo in astrological terms. Thus the sunny flower and general color predilection, I suppose.
Oh yeah, and Old Man Time just bitch-slapped me one more time just before I posted this, lol.
I haven't yet devoted a post to some of our most faithful self-seeding annuals, so I thought I'd sneak a couple of shots in, just to show who has been revving up lately out front. Two of the things I love about self-seeding annuals is that for one, you always end up with some each year, and they have a tendency to wander around the garden a bit, popping up in unexpected places, as well as establishing their own stands here and there. These are just two of our more fiery ones who always come back to visit from year to year. The first is the marvelous California Poppy (Eschscholzia californica) and the second is the common 'Pot Marigold,' Calendula (Calendula officinalis).
Both of these flowers bloom primarily in the fiery range of oranges and yellows, but they also exhibit some wonderful and subtle variations in color from flower to flower. The past few years we've had some rather strange Calendula 'sports' develop in one area of the front boulder bed, and I'm anticipating seeing those again, they're just so bizarre! (If you'd like to see them, go here, and scroll down to the "Summertime Sports" post.) There's a lot to be said for annual self-seeders ... you don't have to replant them every year, they're very cost effective for gardeners like us, who want to snatch up so much when we're plant shopping that the bill can be sobering at times, and certain species are quite receptive to cross pollination that produce interesting variants (our Celosias seem to be quite susceptible to this). Of course sometimes the 'mutants' are outright ugly, but around here, they don't usually get a chance to make a return visit and head straight for the compost. It may seem cruel at first for us to practice 'unnatural selection,' but over the years we've learned our lesson about just letting things run rampant in the garden. That happened with Feverfew and Tansy, and after having had to eradicate those (which took several years), we're less prone to let the second tier contenders have their way ....
Since 
I haven't gotten any new pics taken the past few days I just thought I'd go ahead and show off some more Calendula firepower currently on display in the front boulder bed. I took these shots the same day (Sunday) as the delicious yellow cream one I posted last night, and if you look in the background of the first shot you'll see it where it's blooming, but now with another couple of blooms opening.
I really wanted to get some shots yesterday, as we had a few monarchs working the garden in the afternoon, but due to their skittishness and a regular breeze, I just wasn't able to capture them at the right time. They were visiting the coneflowers, these calendulas and of course the still blooming bee balm. Our friend the hummingbird was also paying frequent, if short, visits to the bee balm both in the front garden as well as the back corner of the lot, so with the constant stream of the bees, there was a lot of feeding going on amongst the garden denizens. I suspect there was a whole lotta pollinatin goin on as well, with all that traffic!
These three examples (along with the one posted last night) show a nice range of the variation in colour and flower shape you find with Calendulas ...from the almost dahlia like textures of the orange, to the intense lemon yellow daisy-esque, to the more traditional shape that we find with French marigolds. Fernymoss will argue forcefully that Calendula is the real marigold, not those intensely hybridized ones we generally imagine when we hear the name. In fact, the two are not even botanically related species. They do share a similar range of colours from red, yellow and orange, though I've rarely seen red Calendulas (at least in our experience). 
As I mentioned in a previous post, Calendulas are a really easy self-seeding annual to grow, and once you've done it successfully one year, you can just let them progress through their cycle till the seed heads dry up, break them up and scatter them where you will and they'll be back in successive years. As Ina Garten would say, How easy is that?!
P.S. There's a bonus bug for Olivia in one of these shots ... can you find it?
Olivia liked this shot of one of our currently blooming Calendulas, so as a belated Canada Day tribute, here's a totally non-colour related contribution. We like it a lot though, and are glad to have it contributing to the show out front right now....Just two more days in cubihell, eh toots?
These are great flowers to grow ... they may only be annuals but they beat the crap out of ordinary "marigolds!"
Go here to see what else these flowers are good for, in case you haven't seen it already.
Nothing really announces the arrival of the summer fire colour parade quite like Calendulas! Though I came relatively late (in the last four or five years) to appreciating the complexity of these unassuming beauties, I'm a diehard fan of them now. Though they're a little late to arrive this year (again, blame the April weather!), today I spotted the first open bloom and just had to capture it. There are a lot more just poised to carry on the show, but this lovely yellow one chose to take the starring role this weekend. Though it too, like the latest summer movie blockbuster, will have to cede the limelight at some point, thus allowing the others their chance at dazzling passersby. And honestly, I'd rather go Calendula watching than see most of what Hollywood hurls at our senses during the summer months! (Though I will admit to eagerly awaiting Michael Moore's new film SICKO, as well as Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.)
Calendula officinalis is not an uncommon plant, but not one we see in too many gardens around town. As you'll see from the Wikipedia link above, Calendulas have more than an ornamental use in the garden ... whether as a tea, in salads or used as a topical ointment for skin problems. In fact, Tom's of Maine (makers of herbal organic toiletry items) even markets a quite nice Calendula deodorant that works really well. (LOL, no hints, just the facts....)
Growing Calendulas is really pretty simple, and they're another flower that we've happily allowed to reach weed status in the front garden, where they confine themselves pretty much to two separate areas at opposite ends of the boulder bed. When you plant the seeds, you'll need to get them in pretty early in the spring, ideally before the ground has warmed up much so they'll have plenty of time to mature, bloom and drop seed for subsequent years' flowers. Otherwise (and this applies especially to those in warmer climates --hey FAR!) you can sow them in the fall after frost but before the ground has frozen and they'll come up the following spring. Just let them progress through their cycle, cut a few if you want, but let them just form their seed heads and when they're dry in the fall, sometime before the snow flies (if you see snow), just break them up and scatter them around the area you'd like them to start colonizing. Though they never get truly invasive here, they do tend to congregate in their areas and come up thickly. You can, if you like, carefully transplant seedlings when they're about 2-3" tall to more appropriate places in the border. As long as they have mostly full sun and adequate water, they'll bloom profusely for you from about June to September, depending on the weather. Long time readers may remember last year's Summer Sports post, which was devoted to how some of our orange Calendulas had mutated into multiple bloom sports. This is a phenomenon we've seen with several annuals in the garden ... not just calendulas, but celosias and just this past week one of the young Blanket Flower plants along the walk. (I'll be a doing a specific post on this one soon....) I'm anxious to see if we get any more multiple blooming (e.g. 6-8 flowers!) mutants in the orange ones this year, or if it was merely a one time aberration ... I'll keep you posted on that one!
Notes on the photos: Taken June 24, 2007 by IVG. The first shot is the début artiste in brilliant yellow ... the second is a bud soon to open, most likely an orange one ....
Here it is, almost Thanksgiving and this post should be, by all rights, about the Sage plants we have in the herb bed behind the house. But due to significant work demands these past few weeks --plus the return of Standard "Dreary" Time-- I've barely been able to get outdoors during the day (if there's even sun!) except on weekends, thus no photos. To be honest, I think it also has something to do with a subliminal fear of fully comprehending the ever expanding browning die back of most of the plants. Of course, the Hollies still (and always) look smashingly green and healthy with their red berries. If I had dared venture out last Saturday when it was snowing lightly, I might have even been able to capture a bit of it against the holly, but no, it was too chilly and I didn't want to take my slippers off and have to put shoes and a jacket on.... Sloth won. No matter, there will be plenty of opportunities later this winter for just such occasions, I'm sure! Not that I'm looking forward to that, but I guess a garden photographer has to take the opportunities he has, not the ones he'd like to have.... (NO apologies to Donald Rumsfeld, but that was a particularly ridiculous turn of phrase that has always stuck in my mind!)
Anyway, this will be my final propagandistic plug for the humble Calendula officinalis for this year. I've repeatedly sung its praises far too long, but in case you missed those or can endure one more shameless plug, this is an annual that every gardener should grow somewhere in a sunny spot of the garden! And now is prime time to plant them so you'll have them up in the spring (if you live in an area where the ground is seriously starting to cool down now). Just lightly rake up an area where you get at least 4-5 hours of sun a day (soil is not a huge issue), toss the seeds around and cover them lightly with dirt and forget about them. They come up steadily over the early spring to summer months, and at first will look almost like lettuce seedlings, only more substantial and a bit hairy. Once you've identified the seedlings (thin if necessary), just let Nature take her course and prepare for early summer blooms that continue to last well after frost! Then you get the bonus of even more seeds for the following year, either to share with friends or let them run wild in your garden. As Ina Gartner would say, How easy is that? You can always pull them (*gasp*) if they're horning in on a favorite or you can dig and transplant them while they're still fairly small and they won't mind. Planting Calendula is a very small investment to make in the garden (especially if you get free seeds from a friend) that, if you're pleased with the results, will pay off handsomely in future years. Nuff said. No more Calendula till next year, I promise.
