Be Still, My Heart

Bitter cold, in the teens at night, in the 20s in the daytime, barely inching into the 30s at high noon.  Because it does not get above freezing, the remaining snow has solidified into a hard ice pack that requires crampons to walk on.

I can inch across the icy snow carefully and get to the steps, where I can crab walk down the edge, but then I'm stranded on a field of slippery undulating ice mounds on the patio. It's a heart-stopping process that I constantly fear will end unceremoniously.

And yet I must get to some things on the bench. I need pots to repot the growing seedlings. I needed containers to cover the vole traps I set out. Once I got to the bench I found the containers were all frozen fast together.

I was only able to unstick a few and used them to cover the baited snap traps set in the yard. The east side is snow free, but the work was cold (it was 26 degrees out, but sunny).

Finding a few little rocks to prop up the pot edges, and to weight the tops, was a challenge. The dry creek bed is completely under hard snow, and the few stones at the edges were iced in solidly. I got bits and pieces of rocks here and there, and made do, but it took a scavenger hunt to find any at all.

For all this, I doubt I will make a dent in the vole infestation. Pffft.

What is this thing? I stumbled around in the meadow where the sun is at least softening bits of snow. It's a giant haystack of grassy stuff, frozen solid. Somebody's home?

And what's this? Omg, it is a daffodil peeking up on the back hill where I planted 150 bulbs last fall. Really?

Be still, my heart.

Trying Not to Complain

yah, that's me in the blue parka skiing at Mammoth,
with Tom behind me.

I like winter.

I skied several times this year. I like snow. A cozy day inside is great. A brisk cold walk is nice. I have great winter boots that are stylish. My garden has real interest when dormant, especially the woody shrubs.

I have no patience for people who choose to live here and complain about winter.

But right now I am trying so hard not to cry. It is in the teens today, and may get up to 29 degrees, but a day in the 30s will be a stretch. Rotted snow still impedes any walking around outside.

The week promises more cold -- nights in the teens, days in the 30s and 40s, not a single day in the forecast that a gardener could enjoy. And it's cruising well into the end of March.

Aaaah, but I have seedlings indoors. The zinnias popped up right away and will need to be repotted before I can even get through the snow to my stash of containers on the potting bench, which is still iced in behind a bank of snow.

Even the tiny nicotiana seeds have sprouted. They were the size of poppy seeds, and came in a tiny plastic tube so they wouldn't get lost in the envelope.

A few of the yellow nasturtiums came up, and a few of the Black Beauty dahlias, but a lot are no shows so far. I do have some more Black Beauty dahlias sprouting in the cell packs next to the zinnias, so there will be Black Beauties enough I hope.

The only thing not up yet are the butterfly weed seeds. They were last year's seeds and may not be viable, or they may just be slow sprouters. But the Hummingbird salvia seeds from last year came up. The random free dahlia I got also is up, and at least two of the free morning glory seeds.

So I can deal. There is something green growing on this St. Patrick's Day and that is encouraging. I have been to Key West and that week in the warmth is still a pleasant memory. So it's good.

I am really, really trying hard not to complain. Or cry.

Ugly Stuff

Finally the daytime temperature has risen to 54 degrees, but it is windy, as March always is when the air gets warmer. I finally got outside and could get through the snow to reach my tools.

But it was ugly.

First, it was hard schlepping through the rotted snow. It's mushy but icy underneath and the awkwardness of sliding around in it hurts my hips after a while. The front and east sides have melted but the rest of the yard and the meadow are still deep under snow.

Second, the voles went wild this winter and the entire east side of the yard is dotted with tunnels.

I mean the whole yard! Every three feet or so has these excavations. Under all the snow this winter they dug up mounds of dirt and created a city of networked underground thruways.

At the edge of the mulch around the new katsura they created a construction site. Everywhere else there are entrance and exit holes, with mounds of dirt at each one.

I need to get mousetraps and set them out. Probably 30 or more, in order to place a trap at each entrance and exit. That was the only thing that worked, at least in the much smaller strip along the front walk the year the voles took out all my plantings there.

There are more uglies.

I think the pink flowered heaths are dead. Both of them.

March is their season to bloom. The little spots on the brown foliage are dried flowers from last year.

For comparison, here is what they looked like on March 16 back in 2010. That was a warm spring, but even so they should not look so dessicated and brown in the middle of March.

I'll wait for milder temperatures, and a more sustained warm stretch than just this one day, to see if they green up and sport their pretty little pink flowers. But they are awfully ugly right now.

Another ugly sight is the miscanthus by the garage door. It's weighed down by hard packed icy snow, but I was determined to get at the standing stalks and cut them down.

The hedge trimmer Jim got me last summer works like a charm, but all I did was make a bigger mess. The fronds chopped down easily, but I could not free half of them from the icy snow. So when the snow does melt, the loose grass stems will blow about and make a horrible mess.

Already, on this windy day, the stuff I cut blew around and accumulated in corners and edges.

The half that I could gather up and cart away was taken out to the back hill, where they will blow around there. They are bright colored and loose, and hard to dispose of and easy to see everywhere.

I hate grasses.  I would never plant miscanthus again as an ornamental in a garden. The only way to deal with them is to burn them in winter, they go up in a poof. But I can't do that so near the house. Next year I must cut them down in fall, even if the sheared stump looks so silly.

I did accomplish a few positive things. The amsonia by the front walk was easily cut down with the handy hedge trimmer, and I got to the pruning of the Japanese maple in front. I took off a lot.

My tools were dry and fine inside the shed, even though I still can't open the front doors with all the snowpack around them. Everything inside it wintered well.

And here's something pretty to counteract the ugly stuff -- a spring wreath on the front door:

Will It Ever Melt?

Although it is snowing lightly this morning and it's back to temperatures in the teens today, Tuesday was warm and sunny and in the late afternoon I sat in the sunshine on the front steps and it was almost as nice as Key West.

But I couldn't get to my tools, even on a such a nice day as Tuesday was. I have pruning to do, and clean up to start, but everything I need is inside my handy dandy tool shed, locked in a bank of snow.

I can lift the top and reach in, but that assumes I can get through the deep stuff to get to it. The porch door can't even open onto the back deck.

And the snow surrounding the driveway was too much to get through out to the back yard. It was a no go despite the nice sunny weather.

I desperately want to cut back the grasses, and clean up the smashed perennial stalks from last fall.

And I want to do some creative pruning on the Japanese maple in front. You can't see it here, but the curvy branch on the furthest left side needs to be cut off. I can get to it easily where snow has melted in the front, but my saw and pruners are in the buried shed in back.

The witch hazels don't look good, and I won't take a picture of their brown leaves and tiny unopened flowers, even though this is supposed to be their season. They continue to make me mad.

But the redtwig dogwoods look wonderful, especially against the snow.

And we have snowdrops. The south facing front garden is melting and the little snowdrops are popping out of the tired mulch.

It was a nice day, but only a brief respite. Now we are back to snow, some icy rain and cold weather.

Bedroom Greenhouse

Relief today -- it is in the 50s and sunny, and some of the old snow is melting.

I sowed seeds indoors today. This time I made a corner of the bedroom into a greenhouse station.

Last year I did them in the basement, but it is cold down there, and dark, and I had to remember to switch the grow lights on and off, and traipse up and down to check things, and carry water down.

In the bedroom I can constantly see what's happening, monitor the lights, and it is warmer.

I just have to be neat and careful not to spill anything. It's unattractive, but, oh well.

I sowed:

• Black Beauty dahlias -- lots of them. They did well for me last year, grown from seed.
• Zinnias -- Lilliput Mix, colorful pompoms about two feet tall, not as tall as Cut & Come Again, but similar in look and color.
• Nicotiana alata -- a red one called Perfume Red.
• Morning glories -- purpurea mix that was a free packet with my order. Purples and mauves.
• Dahlia variabilis -- a pom pom dahlia that was free. I only planted one (they look a lot like the zinnias)

I had old seed from last year and planted several orange butterfly weed and one little red Hummingbird Texas sage. We'll see if it is still viable.

I also sowed the Yellow Gleam nasturtiums in larger cow pots so that they can be moved whole into their garden spots. Nasturtiums don't like to be transplanted.

I want nice big plants for early summer; last year the nasturtiums I sowed directly in the garden took their time and did not bloom until late September.

Here's a picture of Nasturtium azureum
from Dave's Garden

And here is a weird thing: I planted the blue nasturtiums, Tropaeoleum azureum. The instructions were to put them in damp potting mix and then into a sealed plastic bag in the refrigerator for 6 weeks or more! Then take them out and wait another month for them to sprout.  Really?

So that's what I did.  The seeds were tiny, not at all like big round nasturtium seed balls.

A little research tells me that these are fussy, hard to germinate and difficult to grow.

They may not bloom the first year, and need a full year to form tubers. They need deep pots for the tubers to start. Yikes.

These are tender perennials and will have to stay in pots, I think, then brought in over winter. They don't take off for blooming until year two.

I need to rethink planting them with the yellow Gleam trailing nasturtiums on the twig towers. I think these should be in pots on their own, maybe on the patio.

And another picture of Nasturtium azureum

Hmmm.

I really should have done some research before an impulse buy of blue nasturtiums. But surprises are fun too, and seeds are cheap!

Back From Key West

We returned late last night from a week in Key West, and there is still snow on the ground! That was not supposed to be -- I thought we could get away for a week at the beginning of March and come back to the start of mud season and thawing soil as mid March approached.

I expected promises of garden awakenings, and was ready to start clean up tasks outside to get ready for spring.

But it's still deep snowy winter here, although it is sunny and in the high 30s today. The yard is not walkable, the driveway is still surrounded by tall banks of icky snow.

Key West was great. We did every touristy thing we wanted to: a gorgeous sunset sail, the Hemingway house, the Audubon house and garden, a morning at the butterfly conservancy, a day at the beach.

We toured the Truman little White House, and the Mel Fisher Atocha treasure wreck museum.

We drank mojitos, ate fish and stood on the seawall to watch the sun fall into the sea to the sounds of a conch blowing.

Our condo was right in Old Town, so we could walk to everything, including a convenience store for food and supplies. We walked and ate and got too hot, then napped in the afternoons. Our condo was a second floor unit with a small deck, comfortable enough.

As we always do, we had a great time with our travel friends -- always good to see them and experience new adventures with them!

The contrast is so startling. Yesterday it was hot and somewhat humid and palm trees rustled all around us. Today at home the heat is on, the windows closed tight and bright white snow blinds us when we look outside.

Winter's Grip

3 degrees this morning when I got up, and as usual this winter, the day warmed only to mid 20s.

It has been cold, the snow persists in big ugly banks and is spread deep across the yard. The back door to the deck still doesn't open.

Salt and gritty sand coat the driveway.

I missed any chance this winter to get out and cut branches for forcing.

The very few days when the ground was bare enough or the temps were in the 30s or 40s, I was busy with other things, and then we got snow covered and too cold again.

I did want to force branches. I really loved it when they graced the living room half-wall last year.

I have not yet seen the sugar pails on the maples along Duncaster Road. They usually appear the first week in March when nights are freezing and days are above freezing.

This is what it is supposed to look like on Duncaster on March 1.

Not this year, though. All next week it will continue to be in the single digits at night, and 32 or below in the daytime.

The sun sets noticeably later now, about quarter of 6 in the evening.

The sky gets pink in the east, as it usually does here. It's not a reflection from red sunsets in the west -- when I look out the west windows the sky is colorless.

But the other side of the sky is a gentle pink, sometimes magenta. For some reason it is the eastern horizon here that tells us the sun is setting.

March arrives on Saturday, and winter holds on.

• Seed packets have arrived, to start indoors in March.

• Catalog plant orders have been placed, to ship in late spring.

• I never did order the sentry shed that I wanted so much.

• And I didn't get to force any branches this winter. Maybe in March.

Daunted

Mild today, in the mid to high 40s. The polar vortex returns next week, but today the air is still, and not terribly cold.

We went to the Connecticut Garden & Flower Show yesterday. At the Hort Society exhibit I saw a lovely witch hazel 'Diane' in bloom.

Hamamelis x intermedia 'Diane' blooms a deep brick red, offset nicely with evergreens in the background and a wine red painted fence. In open sunlight the color is clearer and brighter red, but in the terrible indoor lighting at the Convention Center it was darker and rustier.

But so lovely.

Of course they force all the plants on exhibit at winter shows like this, but seeing it made me want to check out my witch hazels, which should be blooming now, in late winter on a warmish day.

So I went outside, excited to see and perhaps smell the blooms on my witch hazel 'Diane'.

I was immediately daunted by the giant snowbank piled up in front of both the witch hazels -- 'Diane' and a spring blooming Hamamelis vernalis next to it. The wall of snow was high and I couldn't get past it to go look at the tiny flowers.

And where were they anyway? The brown leaves are still hanging on to both of these witch hazels, obscuring any blooms. It's ugly.

The only way I could get close enough to see any flowers was to stand on the driveway and use the zoom on the camera lens. Yep, there are flowers, kind of. Buds, at least.

So I gave up on the witch hazels and decided to start the project I mentioned of sanding and painting the rusted black trough planters. I brought them inside, put them on a tarp in the basement and was immediately daunted by the task of dumping out soil and cleaning them.

Without a hose or faucet there is no way to wash them out. The compost pile isn't reachable, so the soil will have to sit on the tarp. I went out to the back porch to see if I could find empty containers to repot what is in the planters now, but the pots are stacked on the patio by the potting bench, under snow.

I was daunted even getting out the back door. It won't open, there is too much snow on the deck.

So that project will have to wait til spring, like everything else.

I ended up on the couch looking at Pinterest pictures.

There are so many pins of witch hazel 'Diane' in people's gardens, looking gloriously coppery red, and blooming without any persistent brown foliage hiding everything . . .  sigh.

Trailing Nasturtiums

The giant threatening icicles hanging from the eaves have melted finally. It was 38 degrees today, overcast and spitting drizzle, but warm enough to melt some of the ice.

This year I am going to try two kinds of trailing nasturtiums on the twig towers that flank one entrance to the gravel garden.

I liked 'Gleam' orange nasturtiums in 2012. I did not have them climb the twig towers, I actually had some nice blue plumbagos there, but 'Gleam' nasturtiums were planted nearby and some of the trailing vines rose up into the inkberry hollies and onto the tower supports.

Last year I tried 'Variegated Queen' nasturtiums climbing the towers, rather than the plumbago, but the effect wasn't what I wanted. They were supposed to trail to 6 feet, but grew so slowly, got bushy and did not bloom until very late in the season, in September and October.

The leaves of 'Variegated Queen' were very large and splashed with cream. I think these are grown more for the foliage. I liked the shy, smaller leaves of the orange 'Gleam' and I liked its trailing habit better.

             'Gleam' in 2012 -- smaller leaves                              'Variegated Queen' in 2013 -- larger, mottled leaves

So this spring I got nasturtium seeds from Summerhill Seeds for a yellow 'Gleam' variety to grow on the twig pyramids. I am hoping it is as flowery and nice as the orange one, with small leaves and vining habit. It vines to 15 feet. I'll plant some under the inkberry hollies, let them climb through, and then onto the twig towers.

And . . . how cool is this . . .  I am going to combine the yellow nasturtiums with a blue one on each tower. I have never seen a blue nasturtium. It looks deep blue, almost purple in the seed catalog. It vines to 7 feet. We'll see how this does. It intrigued me.

What I would really love to see some day are the trailing nasturtiums at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston. I want to see the fabulous art collection, but I'd also like to see the over the top nasturtiums in the museum courtyard.  Makes my 5 foot high twig towers look a little puny.

Really, nasturtiums in any setting should be orange!
What am I thinking with blue ones?

It's Snowing Here Again