Sharon's blog

I'm sure I have an underground village complete with a park system, lake houses, and no doubt several industries living beneath my yard and gardens. How do I know? Because I have the grids outlining all the endeavors running through, over and around my yard. The grids being the raised ceilings of their passageways marking the entire half acre with upside down excavations. We dig down to make a furrow, they dig up to make long winding bumps that trip us and make us drop everything we have in hand. But -- those tunnels -- they are there to fool you because if you tunnel down with hoe or shovel to enter their passages, you never truly find them. Instead you end up with holes all over the surface of your yard, your garden, your flower beds and your very own walkways. And heaven help you if drop any thing down into that bottomless pit while you are digging. Never to be seen again, that thing. It brings to mind 'The Time Machine."

I have decided the leader of that pack is a mole. And why did I reach that conclusion since I've never seen them in action except when I happen upon a moving mound of dirt? Because Nuisance Kitty who lives next door dropped a dead and mangled mole at my feet yesterday, as if offering a gift of profound eternal love. It just happened that I had to chase Nuisance Kitty out of my daylily garden the other morning with the water hose turned on to 'Kill'. Of course the water hose doesn't really kill, but Nuisance Kitty doesn't know that. She does know, however, that the harsh wet spray is a torture device. Not that she now has my undying love because I will again turn the waterhose on her if I see her in my daylilies, but her gift told me that the mangled mole is one of many who live in the city beneath my garden.

I chewed a lot of gum last night and I sprinkled it with cayenne pepper, this morning I stuffed gum, one or two at a time, down any mole hole I could find and into some holes I had made when excavating one of those tunnels. Today I'll watch and see. So far, the winding rooftops of the endless tunnels are not moving, not in my backyard anyway. I haven't checked the front.

And I stomped a lot of tunnels with the heels of my shoes. I hope I mangled another mole or two. And if not, I have a lot of bay leaves. I hate to stuff them down mole holes, but I will if I have to. I will always have bay.

In the meantime, I have a parade of marvelous old daylilies to enjoy, in spite of the moles.

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It's been a good month for singin' the blues, from Spiderwort to Royal Purple to Blue Ravine, they've all been good. The other few colors that joined the pack were little exclamation points here and there in the midst of all the blues. The first image might be Blue Kentucky Girl but the two that follow are Royal Purple, one taken in sun and one in shade.


Spiderwort and Clems, Blue Ravine and Kingfisher, the latter is the lightest blue.


The black iris is Black Madonna, the other two are beautiful NOIDs.


Another lovely NOID or two and the glowing yellow is Picasso's Moon.


Pompano Peach followed by two images of the gorgeous Sheba's Queen.


And a rose climbing the wisteria.


Blue or black or whatever falls between, it's a beautiful time in Kentucky.

Be sure to click the images to enlarge them.

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It's the first warm Sunday we've had in many months. I hardly know what to do with myself. I pruned a little then I weeded then I bounced from iris to iris to count the buds. Just like a child at Christmas, I can't wait, can't wait, can't wait!



A few years ago a friend sent me a box of irises and told me they were historics, called Iris 'Florentina'. I'm always glad to get gifts of plants and so very happy to get any historics. I'm the one who even loves Ditchlilies that grow alongside the road and just keep right on growing no matter the efforts to get rid of them. So if it's historic, I already love it. What I didn't know about this iris that came as a gift is that it is very, very historic. It's recorded in those ancient books of botany as long ago as around 1500. It was named by Linnaeus in 1762. Historically the plant is one of the most important irises to be grown commercially in Europe. Cultivated in Italy for centuries, it has been used to make orris root, a powder that can add fragrance to perfume or flavor to Chianti wine. The blooms are white with a tinge of blue and with white beards.
Isn't that something, and now it grows in my garden and is the very first iris to bloom. It's a true treasure. And the best part is that it's increasing and soon I'll have a lovely full clump. At the moment the buds are here and there, not yet clumped into one big happy family. I can wait, it will be worth it.

With all the rain, the flowers came mostly in the form of shrubs or flowering trees, though my azalea wasn't worth mentioning. The wisteria doesn't mind wacky weather, it's always center stage. Even the heuchera that looked positively dead a month ago is a beauty. Now I wait for more of the Florentinas and Pompano Peach and all the others whose buds are almost ready to POP. It won't be long until the buds on the peonies open, then can roses and daylilies be far behind? Surely not! It was a long time coming, but Spring is finally, finally here.

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It was the longest and roughest of winters for most of us, I think. Seems as if nature is now rewarding us for our patience by giving us a most colorful Spring.

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Continued from yesterday . . . the very same snowflakes are still here, not a single one has melted. But the fluffy bouncing blooms have changed; obviously they sent out a group mailing last night.  Open invitation, come one, come all!  And they came, and kept right on coming.

More snow in the forecast.  No melting anytime soon. Y'all might as well just stay tuned.

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