The Garden Buzz

Garden Blogger's Bloom Day: March 15

Renegade crocus blooming while the others are merely pushing through the mulch. Bless him.

Painting the Garden

It's the ever changing nature of nature that makes it so precious. It's human nature to want to capture it and keep it; to hold tight to its beauty and wonder.

We attempt this feat with various methods. A photograph can show us the color and texture of nature as light falls upon it. A pantry of jewel-tone jars glows with garden bounty, like summer in a bottle. Pressed plants preserve the shape and form of leaf and bloom in a flat plane. Dried herbs contain the tasty heat of a sunny day. Perfume is a distillation of the ultimate fantasy garden. How many other ways do we seek to save the garden's essence?

Sometimes the short-lived joy is a bouquet brought indoors. Take it one step further and paint it, freezing that moment when a flower is fresh, perfect. Flowers are probably the most oft-painted subject of such still lifes, yet not always done well.

I happened across a talented painter the other day and thought I'd share a sample of her work. Diane Hoeptner is from California but now lives and paints in Ohio. She worked as a digital animator in her past life, and now puts that knowledge to good use with her new objets d'art.

I have a soft-spot for artists, starving and otherwise. You see, my mother was a painter (among other passions) of sorts, selling her "paintings on the sidewalk" so to speak, while as a child, I played nearby. A painting sold meant my new shoes. Diane is selling her paintings on a website sidewalk as artists like her take to the global gallery of the internet.

She participates in a "daily painting" to develop and inspire her work, much like I blog to flex and build my writing muscles. You meet the nicest people while blogging. Enjoy her work and visit her website.

The Oscar-Worthy Garden of It's Complicated: I'd Like to Thank Meryl...

It was Christmas time, not the time one's attention turns to garden blogs. On a lark, I thought to blog about the fabulous kitchen garden in the new movie, It's Complicated, starring Meryl Streep. Who would know it would become the  most popular post for my little seedling of a garden blog? 

I can't help but wonder how many readers found The Garden Buzz simply by seeking out information about the pretty potager where Meryl picked produce for her already ridiculously beautiful kitchen (did it really need remodeling?).

I find myself with mixed emotions about this phenomenon. I'm grateful to Meryl (hey, I'm a big fan) for starring in such a funny, touching, contemporary movie, but more grateful to the writers and set designers who decided she needed such a gorgeous garden. Wouldn't that be a great job; making gardens for movies?

At the same time I'm glad I had the smarts and intuition to know that if that garden interested me, it would interest other gardeners when I was in dire need of driving traffic to my fledgling blog. I just had no idea how big a chord it would strike with so many. But who could resist those tuteured-tomatoes, and the cabbages color-coordinated with spires of sky-blue delphiniums?

To think a middle-aged woman in a crumpled gardening hat could look so cool! I have that hat, the chambray shirt too. But for the aquiline nose, regal cheekbones and perfectly expressive lips, that's me.

Now if they only had a garden category at The Oscars. Until then, I'm routing for you, Meryl.

 

 

 

 

Garden Blogger's Bloom Day: February 15, 2010

Kalanchoe "Petero"     The Garden Buzz

Although I am only growing snow, I decided to participate for the first time in Garden Blogger's Bloom Day. On the 15th of every month, garden bloggers around the world post pictures of what's blooming in their gardens. It seems like the neighborly thing to do, now that I feel like a full-fledged garden blogger. Plus, there's the alliteration, and you might have noticed, I'm all over that.

I had to find something blooming inside this time.  My indoor collection has grown this year; normally not fond of houseplants, I've allowed a few ivies and a feather fern to live with us, and beyond that I have to say the terrariums are terribly fun.

Along with some other succulents I'm overwintering in the laundry room with the lovely light, this kalanchoe has been recuperating. He's had a rough winter; during the holidays, he was sitting on a fern-stand in the bathroom, minding his own business, when my husband startled the dog, who likes to chew on our socks there in private. (I hope I got that punctuation right, if not, please note, the dog was the one chewing on socks) When all the commotion had ceased; the fern stand was in pieces, my favorite green pot in shards, and the kalanchoe up-ended with all his potting soil askew. 

I had to trim off all the orange flowerlets and prune off the damaged leaves. Then I took him to the laundry room to let him regain his composure. So a month later, the blooms were a big surprise. Granted they are only on the lower lateral shoots, but still.

Kalanchoes are succulent plants native to Madagascar, discovered in the 1700's by some brave but anonymous plant explorer. More popular as a potted plant in Europe than America, I think they deserve more consideration. They come in yellow, orange, red and many shades of pink. I like that when the  clusters of flowers are gone, the fleshy, scalloped leaves are still attractive. Being a succulent, they tolerate the desert-like dry conditions of our house in winter. And unless they are thrown to the ground, seem to thrive on benign neglect.

There are all sorts of convolutions necessary to get light sensitive plants, like Kalanchoe to re-bloom. It involves covering them at night with a dark cloth among other things. I mean, really? Instead, this summer I plan to place the Kalanchoe on the porch with all the other succulents. They thrive in the eastern exposure and afternoon shade. I find that this and/or bringing them back indoors in fall seems to trigger blooming in quite a few. As for the timing, heck, I like surprises.

Bits and Bobs from The Garden Buzz

First...

It seems just yesterday that I nervously hit the publish button on my first post. Now after six months and the 50th post, and a few other minor statistical milestones, The Garden Buzz actually has a following, besides my immediate family (although my husband doesn't read it, there are no cars involved, you see)! I really enjoy sharing my perspective and passion for plants and nature with everyone. Thank you for visiting and all the nice compliments.

Second...

I follow another blog called The Perfect Pantry, written by a lovely lady named Lydia. She writes about food and all sorts of fun stuff. She invited her readers to submit a photo of their pantries, perfect or otherwise, for others to see. I had so much fun looking in other people's cabinets, that I offered mine up as well, but I'm afraid it's rather boring in comparison. It's the featured one for today at her site. Oh my.

After seeing the response, I'm tempted to do my own invitation this summer, and ask to see, "Other People's Compost Piles"!

Third...

I have to confess, I've been blogging somewhere else. I recently started a blog with the Star Tribune in the "Your Voices" section online. It's a little different in that I'm supposed to stay local or at least pertinent to the Twin Cities. I'm not very good at this self-promotion thing, in fact, I'm having a little hot flash and turning red just typing this news into the blog template. I promise not to neglect or give short shrift to The Garden Buzz. It is my baby.

 

 

Do Bloggers Get Sick Days?

Today's post has little to do with gardening or nature, but rather the nature of blogging. Apparently there is a phenomenon called blogger's guilt; the act of feeling bad when you can't blog. Although there are many who start blogs and after one way-too-lengthy post and a few half-hearted ones realize they haven't really got that much to say or don't have the self-discipline, and subsequently leave their blogs to languish in the web dust.

Then there's me. I have been described at times as "too responsible". I usually don't commit to what I can't do. I could have been blogging at the big-bang beginning of blogging and be way down the road with this garden blog. But I waited until I knew I could follow through. And it might sound a little egotistical if I think a missing post or two would matter, but there is a tiny growing number of readers who seem to actually like reading my little musings about Mother Nature and all her wonders. And 5% live in Australia, what's with that? But anyway, thanks, mates.

The day is not often when I can't come up with something to say, I only need look out the window to find a topic. But today, I have to say I was leaning toward... I got nothin'. I don't feel so good.

The past few days I've had a scratchy throat and a gunky cough. No big deal. I was running errands yesterday and my husband called. He was home, where was I? He had gone home sick, and since this rarely happens, I was concerned. He was nauseous, could I bring home some 7-Up? So I rushed over to the store and rushed home with the bubbly anti-dote to most of my hubby's infrequent ills. He took three sips and went to sleep, for the next  12 hours. I proceeded to make chicken soup, which he never ate. He got up this morning and pronounced himself cured and left for work. At least I have some soup.

But me. I don't feel so good. I prefer pain over nausea. And I already was sick, I don't want his sickness too. I feel kind of fuzzy like the frozen fog outside today. I may read this later and regret it. I don't think it's too far up on the clever-meter. But I felt like I had to write something.

Maybe I am imagining this eeghh feeling. I saw he had touched my laptop this morning, so I sprayed it with Lysol. And then I was thinking about going to see that Avatar film, and even thinking about a 3D movie makes me woozy. I have kind of gotten intrigued about it, even though it may be like my daughter describes all fantasy movies of that ilk; "just Star Wars in a forest". But I digress.

Last week when I was busy getting everyone in the family off to their own disparate destinations of Missouri, Colorado and Russia, I failed to post my blog a couple times. It made me anxious and a bit cranky. My mother-in-law called to see if I was ok, because she hadn't seen The Garden Buzz. That was very sweet since I am usually the worrier and not the subject of worry. So I posted three times the next week as self-imposed makeup work.

I love blogging. I love the immediacy. I like how I pitch the story to myself, then write it, photograph it, post it and own it. It suits me to a T. Maybe I can get a sick note from myself?

I've Been Mulched!

But in the best of ways. I was recently asked to be one of the featured experts on The Mulch (www.themulch.com ), a new gardening website with lots of good gardening information and advice. Plant recommendations from experts in the field guide gardeners, experienced and new, to choosing the "right plant for the right place".

Although the site leans heavily toward West Coast gardening, they are expanding their boundaries eastward and beyond, including this Minnesota gardener. I will be their expert for Minnesota and the Midwest, as the bulk of my gardening has been done in that region.

The title of expert is a little intimidating. I am an Extension Master Gardener, however I don't write as a Master Gardener per se. In the spirit of Master Gardeners everywhere I will admit when I don't know the answer, and then go on to find the answer. I learn when you learn.

Finally if you go to my page at The Mulch, you might ask, "What's with the red hair?" For now, to fit the format of the other expert's photos, that one was the best choice. But, yikes, who let me walk around with that flaming shade of auburn? Cooler heads and hair colors have prevailed since! I will try to supply them with a more timely one soon.

In the meantime check out the gorgeous rose in the background. That's my luscious-smelling, exuberant Zepherine Drouhin. An almost thornless climbing Bourbon rose, appropriate for entryways and gates; it will perfume your garden while even tolerating some shade. It adorned the arbor entry to my Kansas kitchen garden, stopping traffic on a regular basis. It's only imperfection; hardy to zone 6, this rose will  have to remain just a fragrant memory for me now.

Zepherine Drouhin rose with Henry clematis in blogger's garden  The Garden Buzz

If A Garden Blog Falls in the Forest, Does Anybody Read It?

I know you're out there. I can tell from the blog-o-meter that my little numbers are growing slowly but steadily. Readers from far flung places like Germany and Wetumpka, Alabama have been paying me a visit. What can I say but welcome Wetumpka! (Don't worry I can't see you.) And it seems I have a very small audience on a previously unknown continent called "other".

I'm just a baby in blog years. However I know that this is supposed to be more conversation than soliloquy. And you're kinda quiet out there. So I'd like to know so far, does this blog make you squirm or want to subscribe? Are there other topics you'd like to see covered? Is it too talky and not enough technique? Is it too short, too long, too what or just right? Is it pithy or pathetic? I'm not fishing for compliments, I just want feedback! Post a comment and let me know. I'm tough. I can take it.

Or post a comment and just say 'Hello'.

I found out quickly that blogging is a lot more than picking out your prettiest pictures and posting your precious thoughts. You have to engage in a little self-promotion, when you'd rather just write. You have to make friends with other blogs. Then you hope they like you and link you on their blogroll of favorites, which is sort of like the internet equivalent of a friendship bracelet. Gee, what if your blog is shy? And then a horrible thought occurs; what if blogging is like high school?

Why would anybody blog in the first place. With 900,000 posts every 24 hours, how can anyone find you out there in the blogosphere? It's like finding one special leaf on this forest floor.

 
I started blogging to keep my writing muscles limber. I started blogging to share my passion for plants and all things nature-y. It's more work than I thought. More surprising, it's more fun than I ever expected.

I interrupt my regularly-scheduled garden blogging to discuss Breast Cancer Awareness

Except for the burnished maples, the early October snows have muddied our usual brilliant fall colors, leaving us with only pink. The stores are filled with all manner of pink items advertising National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. And in my garden, this last single rosy bloom of "All the Rage".

 
I realized that I am not alone in my worry that the message is getting lost in the marketing. Others are growing concerned that the portion of "pink" sales turned over to charity is misleading. I fear that in going all girlfriendy, all pink and sparkly, the reality of breast cancer is somehow diluted.

Lest we forget, breast cancer is a dark, heinous disease that steals our family and friends, robbing us of the nurturing relationships that matter most in life. It is the disease that took my mother at 70 before my children were born. It is the disease that took my sister at 57 before we could make peace. It is the disease that almost caught me at 37 when my children were so, so young. It is the disease that hovers like a perpetual dark cloud in the peripheral vision of my 21 year-old daughter.

If you want to wear silly pink wigs and run a race, that's ok. If you really covet a pink Kitchen-Aid mixer by all means, go ahead. If a coffee mug stamped with a pink ribbon warms your heart, that's fine.

But better yet, make a more powerful statement, a more potent response by donating DIRECTLY to the American Cancer Society or the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation. Communicate to the TV networks that you'd like "one less", one less Viagra ad every night and one more breast cancer public service announcement instead. Communicate to your congressperson that when health care is reformed it should include equal access to breast cancer treatment for all women, and our sons and fathers and brothers.

Because for me, breast cancer isn't pink, it's personal.

Welcome to The Garden Buzz!

Not another gardening blog! For centuries mother have intoned to their children, "Just because everyone's doing it is no reason for you to do it.  Would you jump off a cliff....?" Blah, blah, blog. So many blogs, so much blather. Once you get past the obvious onomatopoeia, you just have to jump off that proverbial cliff and hope you don't embarrass yourself.

Then the next question is when to start said gardening blog. It would seem natural to begin with the burgeoning buds of May, when tender shoots of green, but more likely pale and pink, emerge from the sodden ground. Others would argue that the gardening year commences earlier when catalogs fill the mailbox, as gardeners sip steaming cups while contemplating the year yet to come. Maybe it is mid-June when the garden looks its best and a satisfied smugness seems appropriate.

I propose to start in the weed-weary days of late August, when you harbor secret guilt pangs for wishing it was all done. Yes, you are tired of gardening by now. However it is easy to lament that the lush landscape peaks then falls to frost too soon. Where did summer go?

It is precisely this time of year that we as gardeners survey our successes and re-evaluate our less than leafy outcomes. We congratulate ourselves on winning color combinations, make note to move a plant to more sun, perhaps moister soil, and dream of new landscape designs. Good gardeners are already thinking "Next year..." So just maybe the gardening year starts now.