Autumn's Surprise

June Strawberries fruiting in November.

Me and my freshly picked apples.

(Click on any photo to view a larger image.)

Summer was coming to an end in my last post and I recounted some of the abundance I enjoyed in my garden, from the magnificent stand of flowers to my fragrant and delicious herbs. Back then I was sure that my garden would be put to bed and dormant by the time Thanksgiving rolled around. I was wrong. Mother Nature apparently wants to hang around my house a little longer and is showing herself in a most unexpected way...I still have flowers in bloom. My pansies and snapdragons are still showing their colorful heads and up until a couple of weeks ago I was still picking aji dulce (pronounced a-HEE DOOL-seh), a tiny, sweet pepper used in traditional Spanish Caribbean cooking, off my plants. Even more surprising is this...my strawberries, which bear fruit only once in June and very early July are not only blooming again, they are fruiting! This is most unusual. The weather is crisping up, the apples on my tree have been harvested and eaten (delicious apple pies and pastries, by the way) and nearly all the leaves have fallen off the neighboring trees, yet my summer strawberries are fruiting.

I find this all the more fascinating because of the brutally hot July we had this year that really put a hurtin' on all manner of vegetation, ornamental as well as edible. As a result of the summer scorch, none of my vegetables did particularly well this year and I am sure I lowered the level of the nearest reservoir in order to keep my plants alive. Still, in spite of the beating my plants took, they all survived beautifully. I suppose this very late bloom is my garden's way of thanking me for taking such particular care of them during the heat wave.

As is my custom, I read the happenings in my garden and relate them to the political events taking place in this country. It was no surprise to me that the Republicans rallied during this past election. Their steady, ruthless onslaught of Democratic candidates all across the country, much like the steady onslaught of July's ruthless heat wave, took its toll and the fickle electorate followed suit. Given the beating taken by the Dems, it would appear that the White House will flip back to GOP control in 2012. But I believe there is hope yet. At least that's what my garden is telling me, specifically my late fruiting strawberries. There is still life and strength in those roots that can rally at the most unpredictable times. I surely hope so. Lord knows we need it.

Ballo ergo sum - Gitana, the Creative Diva

How Does My Garden Grow?

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I went to sleep very late last night and I was counting on the fact that, since I had no pressing issues to attend to, I could sleep in. No, that was not to be. I woke up after a few hours to go to the bathroom and that's when I heard it...the siren call of my garden begging for attention. Try as I might I could not go back to sleep. When she calls me, I must answer. Where I intended nothing more than to water the garden, She would not have it. She had been patient long enough, suffering through my extended periods of busyness wherein I could not tend to her. It was time to dress her up for the summer and She wanted me to lay out her clothes.

The sky was overcast with clouds that threatened rain. The air was somewhat cooler than it had been in the past week so it seemed like a good time to do the work that needed doing. Although I had pulled weeds and transplanted flowers last week, there still remained empty patches rapidly refilling with weeds and large clumps of marigolds to be thinned. Pansies and snapdragons that had spontaneously sprouted around the garden had to be corralled into their respective areas, and the snails had to be dealt with. All this I did, and as I uprooted, transplanted, weeded and watered, I couldn't help noticing the smile on my face and how good and energetic I felt in spite of the fact that I hadn't slept nearly enough. At last I stepped back to survey what I had done and I stood in awe. The weedy, open areas of dirt, the dense clumps of marigolds and haphazard patches of pansies were gone. In their places stood orderly rows of flowers and soil free of weeds. It was as if in the process of putting the garden to rights, it had undergone a metamorphosis. It looked better, to be sure, but it was more than that. It FELT better. It felt RIGHT. It was as if everything was finally where it was supposed to be and this created an energetic shift. I looked at my garden as if I was seeing it for the very first time, not unlike the way a father looks at his daughter when she is ready to leave for her prom, with pride, awe and wonder at the beauty of it all. It was a case of the whole being more than just the sum of its parts.

Just as I patted the last plant into place, as if on cue, the first drops of the impending rain began to fall lightly. As I gathered my garden tools to put them away, I remembered the lesson the garden taught me last week..."redistribute your assets and spread the wealth for you already have everything you need". Yes, once again She was correct. Everything I needed to beautify my garden had already been provided for me. All I had to do was put it in its proper place.

Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

Talking with Mother Nature

As I have said many times in this blog, I receive some of my most profound insights when I dedicate myself to the care and nurturing of my garden. This morning was a perfect example.

What I intended to be no more than watering the garden became much more. I decided to pull a few weeds, then a few more, until I had weeded out an entire section that had been choked. When I'm weeding I generally come across little flowers hidden by the weeds so I "rescue" them, removing them from the weedy area and transplanting them to an area with more of their own kind that had also been rescued. In the process, I noticed that my lush stand of marigolds was so thick it needed thinning out, so I separated the many plants and transplanted them around the garden. I think it is important to note here that in contrast to my usual practice of purchasing annuals to perk up my garden, this year I did nothing of the kind. I was simply too busy to do gardening. Even watering it was a chore that I did hurriedly and inadequately. In spite of that, though, my garden is producing flowers. Apparently last year some of my annuals dropped seeds that germinated and sprang up in all manner of odd places. It's as if my garden was telling me, "Don't worry. We're still here for you." Lately, since I have been much more diligent about watering and tending to my garden, the flowers have been demonstrating their appreciation by propagating.

It was while I was transplanting the marigolds that a several revelations came to me. Upon being moved, the flowers and leaves began to wilt and look very sad, so I turned on the sprinkler and made sure they got a good drink to help them revive and settle in. Then I stood back to survey what I had done. It was then that I became aware of a few corollaries: The first of these is that people are like plants. When abruptly uprooted and moved to a new location, they become sad and weakened but will bounce back if given sufficient time, nurturing and the necessary tools. The second, and perhaps the most important of these corollaries hits a little closer to home. By separating one thick mass of marigolds into several smaller plants, I essentially "spread the wealth". The garden was telling me that I already had everything I needed and all I had to do was redistribute my assets. By carefully tending to what I already had before me, I could achieve my ultimate goals.

The first of these realizations I take as referring to my youngest daughter who has moved away to start a new life as a college student. I expect that sooner or later the first bloom of novelty will soon give way to homesickness and I won't be surprised to receive a few plaintive phone calls from her pining for some of my cooking or wanting me to massage her feet. (Yeah, she's spoiled. All my kids are.) The second I take as referring to, among other things, my current financial situation. My husband joined the ranks of the unemployed recently and has been unsuccessful in getting another job. We are in the uneviable position of having two children in college, a mortgage to pay and no income. I'll have to see how I can redistribute some of my "wealth" (which in my case has nothing to do with money) to address these concerns. Time will tell.



Ballo ergo sum- Gitana, the Creative Diva

Spring Has Arrived!

Just a few short weeks ago, New York and the surrounding areas were hit with a snowstorm that brought the city to a halt. Last weekend the area was again buffeted by a devastating nor'easter that uprooted hundreds of trees, downed power lines and caused untold thousands of dollars in damage to homes, cars, businesses. Winter's dying gasp was memorable, to say the least, but no less so than Spring's first breath.

This weekend we were treated to glorious weather. It was unseasonably warm, bright and sunny...all the excuse I needed to head out to my garden to renew it and myself. I was joyously greeted by an explosion of color from my daffodils and crocuses. It seems as if everything is in a hurry to shake off the grey of winter and don the colors of warmer weather. Here are the first photos of my 2010 garden featuring two of my stalwart perennials. They, as do the burgeoning buds all around me, make me smile.

Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

2010 Awakes

January. Winter. Cold. Makes you want to stay indoors curled up in a comfortable chair with a cup of tea, a good book and favorite afghan thrown over your legs. I haven't been in my garden since its annual clean up and winterizing ritual and haven't thought much about it until this week. Small branches and twigs had fallen and collected in an unkempt pile in my yard so I ventured out one relatively mild day to clean them up. In the process I discovered something surprising. My daffodils, well over a hundred of them, are beginning to poke through the ground. My old (over 10 years) strawberry plant is showing signs of green under the dessicated remains of last year's growth. My stalwart sedum (I swear you can't kill this plant) is coming back again as it has for over 15 years and the tender plants that I brought into the house in the fall are showing signs of renewed vigor. It appears the growing season has quietly arrived and is in full throttle.

The lengthening of the days since the winter solstice has worked its magic on Mother Nature and she is showing her appreciation with promises of springtime while thoughts of a bountiful garden fill my head.


Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

Winterizing has begun

Autumn, which was unbelievably cold and unforgiving just a week ago, has once again turned mild, albeit damp and overcast. In spite of this renewed warmth, I know winter awaits around the corner and can appear at any moment. With this in mind I have begun my annual ritual of winterizing the garden.

You might think there isn't much that needs doing in a garden once the flowers are gone and the leaves are on the ground. In my garden there are at least a dozen flower pots that need to be brought into the shed or placed out of the path of a snowblower. The same goes for the benches and the pots hanging from the fence. My children's toy wagon, in which I once hauled toddlers, pre-teens and groceries alike, now acts as my makeshift wheelbarrow. Every year I wash it, polish it with ArmorAll and cover it with heavy plastic contractor grade bags to protect it from the elements during the winter. It's my hope to have that old wagon around to haul grandchildren and grand nieces and nephews so I treat it with great care and love.

Every year I go through this winterizing ritual and when I have finally completed it, I always have the same mixed feeling of accomplishment and emptiness. The yard is cleared and ready to rest again until the next growing season, giving me a sense of accomplishment, but I miss the color, the vibrance, the life of my summer garden.

It's time to bring in the tender plants, leave the annuals to die back and salivate over the offerings in my garden nursery catalogs. Winter's approach may have chased me indoors but I'm planning the strategy for my next horticultural attack. I'm thinking less flowers, more vegetables, perhaps some gourds for fall decorating. Hmmm, I'd better rest up this winter. There's much work to be done next spring.

Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

It's Officially Fall

Although the beginning of fall is observed on the day of the autumnal equinox, I use a simpler, more organic method...I look at my garden. As long as it is warm enough for me to pick veggies and admire my flowers I don't pay attention to the calendar. This week, Autumn tossed her red-gold tresses and made her full presence felt in the cold, blustery winds she sent to scatter the fallen leaves like a whirling dervish. As much as it pained me to do so, I began bringing my plants in from the cold. The windows in my screenhouse, which acts as a makeshift greenhouse during warmer weather, were closed. It now acts as a waystation for those plants that didn't make into the house on the first round. I've begun to harvest marigold and four o'clock seeds for next year's garden and am hoping to salvage some coleus indoors for a little winter color.

Autumn is Winter's harbinger and where Autumn treads, Winter follows close behind. I've made a mental note to have the snowblower serviced in preparation for this winter. Snow's a-coming, that's for sure, along with a long winter. I'm preparing for the kind of winter I experienced as a child when winters were snowy and magical.

I will miss my garden but now it is time for her to sleep.

Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

The work continues...

(Note: Click on an image for a larger view)

I have been in my garden up to my eyebrows in earthworms (lots of them), flowers and weeds, thanks to the prodigious amounts of rainfall we've had this June. A recent weather report stated that it rained 20 out of the first 24 days of the month. Where the garden is concerned, I believe in making hay while the sun shines, or in this case, planting flowers while the rain holds off. Planting, transplanting and weeding are all easier to accomplish, although a bit messier, once the ground has been saturated from a good soaking rain.

This year I have a plan to transform my garden from merely attractive to visually spectacular. There have always been large spaces in my front yard garden in between my perennials that are usually bare during the summer. Well, almost bare, if you don't count the constant weed ground cover that grows faster than I can pull it out. I always have the intention of covering up those bare spaces with a flowering ground cover like creeping phlox or maiden pinks but somehow the summer ends, along with my good intentions, and the ground cover never gets planted. This year it's going to be different. I have already gone a long way towards clearing out the weeds in my front yard in spite of the constant rain that keeps them vigorously spreading, and I have begun filling in the bare ground with marigolds. Marigolds are very forgiving plants, flowering endlessly all summer, self seeding and offering the added bonus of acting as a natural mosquito repellent. (Hint: If you plant tomatoes, plant marigolds in between the rows. Marigolds help protect tomatoes from pests both above and below the ground.) In my backyard garden I have already laid in a large swath of impatiens and marigolds. I am also planning on putting in a stone path to allow me to enter and tend the garden without stepping directly on the ground and getting muddy.

As these changes are taking place in my garden, I can feel changes taking place in my mind. One thing that came to mind was something that should be very obvious yet had eluded me for many years. The changes in my garden are taking place because I took the first step and created a clear plan. This gave me a general blue print to follow but it was not so rigid that it could not accomodate changes. It dawned on my that the same thing must occur in the creation of a business. Of course everyone has heard that you have to create a business plan if you want your business to be successful but this one simple step has eluded me. No, not eluded, paralyzed. The thought of creating a business plan filled me with such a paralyzing fear that I never ventured beyond the dream of wanting to build my own business. While I was working in that garden, turning soil and planting impatiens, I realized that a business is like garden. I just have to decide what, where and when I want to plant and slowly follow the plan to do it. If I decided to change things a little, no problem. The plan will allow for that flexibility. It seems so simple. Like Dorothy in Oz, I couldn't see what was in front of me all the time.

Once again my garden has brought me insights I was not able to achieve in conscious thought. Now to put that knowledge into action. In the meantime I will share with you photos of my most recent experiment - an upside down tomato plant. I took a small pail, cut a hole in the bottom and stuck a tomato plant in it, filled it with dirt and hung it up in the sun. I planted marigolds in the top as natural pest control. The tomato is growing well without the need for staking and without dragging on the ground. You can see the nascent tomatoes at the bottom of the second photo, taken about a month after the first photo. We'll see this works out.



Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

Mixed Blessings

It's been raining a lot these past several weeks, coupled with unusually warm temperatures. These are conditions for abundance... of plant life as well as insect life. As has become my custom for the past few years, I thin out the explosive growth in my garden and give my excess plants away to other gardeners. Since I have been actively uprooting and tilling my garden for the past two or three seasons, I have a very good idea what is going on below the surface. This year I have made a distressing discovery. My garden has become host to an uncomfortably high number of Japanese beetle grubs, many more than I have seen in the past several years. On a more positive note, I have seen a comparable increase in the number of earthworms in my garden, a sign that bodes well for healthy growth.

To anyone else, this information would be the signal to apply some sort of chemical treatment against the grubs and nothing more. To me, this is a signal to start putting the pieces together. The spring growing season began relatively early and the temperature became unseasonably warm. Spring blooms began their ascent much earlier than usual as if in a hurry to get the season started while late winter flowers lagged behind. Although the blooming timetable evetually seemed to stabilize, there were other anomalies. Flowers that I had carefully planted last year were showing up in unexpected, not necessarily desired, places this year and weeds are particularly vigorous.

My garden's habits this year have tended to echo the political energy in this country so here's where I begin to make the connections. The early and energetic start to spring correlates to the high energy present at the beginning of the year when President Obama took office. The lagging winter flowers seem to indicate vestiges of the former administration that continue to drag down the progress of the present administration. Plants showing up in unexpected places seems obvious: familiar faces will appear in areas where they haven't been before (Hillary Clinton's appointment as Secretary of State is an example). The vigorous weed growth and increased grub population says that there are forces at work seeking to undermine the changes taking place. If we are to prevent this from occurring, we must be willing to put in the drudge work necessary to keep unsavory elements under control. The increase in worms tell me that there are more among us who are willing to do what needs to be done.

If my "read" on this situation is correct, we're in for lots of change and lots of energetic shifting. We should enjoy the benefits of this change but be mindful that it can shift directions in an instant. Nothing can be taken for granted. In the garden of life we must be like the industrious ants preparing for lean times, not like the happy-go-lucky grasshopper who fiddles away during the good times and suffers during the bad.

In the garden, as in life, it's all about balance.



Ballo ergo sum
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

The Daffodils Are Up!

(Note: Click on an image for a larger view)
This week, amid the detritus of last fall, my daffodils finally began to bloom. This is a photograph of the first flowers to grace my garden. What is anomalous is the fact that these spring daffodils are in simultaneous bloom with the winter crocuses featured in my last post. These flowers are not usually seen together, at least not in my garden. The usual pattern is crocuses bloom, then wilt before any of the spring flowers are up. This unusual concurrent bloom is just another indicator of the energetic shift that is taking place this year.

Regardless of the reason, I am enjoying the floral show immensely and am looking forward for the rest of my flowers to erupt. I probably have close to two hundred daffodils in my garden (thanks to prolific propagation on their part) and only about a dozen have bloomed, so I'm in for one heck of a show in the next couple of weeks. In addition, my tulips have shown their leaves, as have the irises, the rudbeckia, the sedum, the Stella D'Oro daylilies and the hostas. The hydrangeas are beginning to bud and all manner of mystery growth is taking place. No matter how many times I see them grow and bloom, I am always amazed and delighted at the wonders my garden offers me. Here's to the beginning of another year of earthly pleasures.

Ballo ergo sum,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

Spring Finally Arrives

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Exactly three weeks ago today we New Yorkers were given a parting shot from Mother Nature in the form of a major snowstorm. There was snow and ice aplenty but fortunately it didn't last very long. By the end of the week we were again enjoying unseasonably warmish temperatures. It was quite odd to be standing in front of my house in a t-shirt having a conversation about the relative heat when all around me were the final vestiges of snow that remained. This inconsistent see-saw weather, warm one day, cool or cold the next, is being reflected in my garden. As I mentioned in my last post, my daffodils and tulips were beginning to show their tops early while my crocuses were nowhere to be seen. Apparently I'm not the only one noticing the delayed crocus bloom because I just read a post on another blog that reported the same thing.

Back in the fall, I reported in my personal blog, Gitana's Corner, how fall seemed to begin early then paused in order to allow summer to tend to unfinished business in the form of late blooming crops. (Click here to read that post.) Well, it appears that same energetic shift is repeating itself with winter and spring. Spring appears to be ready to burst forth in the form of tulips and daffodils but it has slowed its pace, allowing the crocuses to sprout and bloom first. Last weekend I was delighted to be greeted in my front garden by the first of my tiny crocuses. Like last summer's crops, the crocus bloom was not as abundant as in past years but if this seasonal transition emulates the last one, spring should be bountiful.

The energetic shift I am observing in my garden also seems to emulate that of society at large. People are anxious to get on with life as usual in a hurry but our current economic downturn is holding things at bay, allowing changes that are being made at the governmental level an opportunity to take hold and have an effect. Everyone wants things to change right away. The universe is taking it's time.

Here's a thought...wouldn't it be wonderful if human nature took a cue from Mother Nature and slowed down, allowing things to unfold in their own good time instead of being in such a rush? Something to think about.

Ballo ergo sum,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

Nature's Sucker Punch

(Note: Click on an image for a larger view)

Last fall, I posted an entry on my main blog, Gitana's Corner, that discusses that contradictory energy I encountered in my garden last year. (You can read more about it here.) Well, it would seem that Mother Nature is not yet done with her temporal shenanigans.

Here in New York, we enjoyed temperatures in the low 50's for much of last week, inspiring me to begin pulling back the mulch on a section of my front garden. I was delighted to see so much new growth poking up through the ground. What surprised me was that I saw what appeared to be nascent daffodils and tulips, flowers I did not expect to see for a few more weeks. The tiny crocuses that I normally see at this time of year were not apparent. (To be honest, I didn't remove the mulch in their part of the garden yet. Perhaps they are there waiting for me to "pull back the sheets", so to speak.) At any rate I convinced myself that winter was over and spring would be early, in spite of the inner voice that told me otherwise, so I resolved to return to the garden over the weekend to complete the mulch removal. The siren song of my garden was calling and I was anxious to respond.

How foolish of me to second guess Mother Nature. She showed us all her capricious side by dumping a snowstorm on the NY metropolitan area on Sunday night, so much so that the city's schools were closed on Monday. There was nearly a foot of snow piled on my garden. As the ice melted and refroze, it created huge icicles around my house. (Take a look at the stalagtites hanging from my air conditioner.) Fortunately I had not gotten around to removing any more of the mulch so most of my garden was still under a protective layer of leaves. This was a valuable lesson for me. It taught me once again not to ignore that little voice that speaks to me from within. It always speaks the truth and to ignore it is to risk regretting your actions. I can only hope that my nascent flowers will weather this storm well and live to bloom another day.

Ballo ergo sum,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

Life Persists

For me, one of the joys of gardening is the incredible amount of information I receive from my plants. Yes, information. If you know how to "read" your plants you can learn a lot. The concept is the same as learning to "read" a person...you pick up on subtle clues that give you insight into information that may not be common knowledge.

It is winter now. Today, in fact, it is snowing, with forecasts promising 2 -3 inches of accumulation. I was out in my shed/greenhouse today, trying to get my snowblower started when I decided to clear out the dead remains of the plants that had flourished there during the warmer months. The scene was a depressing tangle of brittle vines, dessicated stems and dead leaves hanging from pots and sticking up from planters. As the snow fell outside and I cleared out the dead plants, I happened to casually glance at one pot standing in a corner, one of the few that had no dead plants needing to be cleaned out. There was nothing special about it, just a pot with dirt in it, but a little voice told me to take a closer look. There, in at least a half dozen places, were the nascent leaves of bulbs poking through the surface. Even here, in the midst of a winter storm, life persists. Spring, in all her glory, will once again fulfill her annual promise of color and beauty.

This was not the only sign of winter's eventual end. Last week I saw new greening in the sedum in my front garden. Just the fact that I had the urge to clear out the old growth at this early date (I usually do this in early to mid spring) is an indication to me that we may have if not an early spring than perhaps an abrupt spring, with the weather changing suddenly from cool to warm all at once.

My garden is a source of great pleasure. In the weeks and months ahead I will share with you the "conversations" I have with my plants and my interpretation of the information they share with me.

Ballo ergo sum,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva