Thursday, April 8, 2010

Spring is Popping!!! (copyright Everett H. Scott, 2010)






POP, pop, pop!!!!
(April Toonmoose Blog) April 7, 2010


“Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop!!!!!” Hear that? It is the sound of Spring, erupting in a torrent of blossoms, in response to the spectacular warm weather we here in the Northeast are enjoying. Don’t blink, or you’ll miss the appearance of the Spring Ephemerals like Sanguanaria Canadensis, (Bloodroot), Tussilago Farfara, (Colts Foot), and Erythronium Americanum (Trout Lily).
Today, we have reached 92 degrees with no humidity and clear skies. The daffodils are going full tilt, their trumpets raised to the sun. In the course of an afternoon, the peach and cherry trees have formed clouds of pink, silky petals tremulant in the slightest breeze.
In the potager, the peas, snow peas, kale and spinach seeds have germinated and are leaping out of the ground. What a difference a few weeks have made!? When last I wrote, there was still snow, mounded up in the corners of parking lots. Now, it is mounds of green, as in the tendrils and leaflets of seedlings and, (unfortunately), weeds, that are covering the Earth. Who could fail to feel rejuvenated by all of this botanical activity?
One sad discovery this Spring, was the loss of my bees over the winter. Whether they succumbed to the harsh weather or some illness, I cannot say, though I will report this information to the Apiary Inspectors of America and the USDA-ARS Beltsville Research Laboratory, who are doing their best to keep track of these developments. It is my hope to replace the bees by the end of the month. I already miss their presence, buzzing about in the garden. In the interim, wasps, bumblebees and butterflies, Nature’s volunteers, form the vanguard of this seasons pollinators. The exciting news is that I also made the discovery, as of some abandoned treasure, of honey, in each of the two hives, making for my first honey harvest! How thrilling!?! Truly, it is the best honey I have ever tasted, invigorating to the palette. It is exciting to eat something so absolutely pure, in that it has come to me just as Nature made it. In fact, I got not one, but TWO honeys, since although the hives sit quite close to one another, the honey in the hive on the left is distinctly more amber in color, with a unique flavor profile, while the honey of the hive on the right is visibly more golden in color, and has yet another flavor profile. I could swear that the amber colored honey displays hints of citrus, though there are no citrus groves to be found near us, here in zone 6. Both honeys have a beguiling floral aroma, compressed from the millions of blossoms it required to produce the pounds of honey the bees made. Still, it seems clear that each hive found different foraging grounds – information they did not share with their neighbors. I am more committed than ever to including pollinators, particularly honeybees, as a vital part of this, or any garden. When I presented my neighbor Scott with a jar of honey, he declared that he had a better tomato crop than ever last year, an improvement he attributed to the bees. I think of it as a privilege to host these marvelous creatures.
Although it is early in the season, already I can see certain patterns emerging that bode well for a productive gardening year. “J,” outfitted in his “holey kneed” gardening jeans excels at weeding and preparing the beds with applications of manure and wood ash (nitrogen). Then, I come along with my interpretation of a Navajo “gish,” or planting stick - in this case, a multi-branched length of syringa vulgaris (Lilac) to make furrows and plant seeds, creating my own “planting prayers” as I go. If you would like a Navajo planting song to get you inspired, here is one you can try. Happy gardening!



Song in the Garden of the House of God (from the Navajo corn-planting ritual)

Truly in the east

The white bean

And the great corn plant

Are tied with the white lightning.

Listen! rain approaches!

The voice of the bluebird is heard.

Truly in the east

The white bean

And the great squash

Are tied with the rainbow.

Listen! rain approaches!

The voice of the bluebird is heard.
From the top of the great corn-plant the water gurgles, I hear it;

Around the roots the water foams, I hear it;

Around the roots of the plants it foams, I hear it;

From their tops the water foams, I hear it.
The corn grows up. The waters of the dark clouds drop, drop.

The rain descends. The waters from the corn leaves drop, drop.

The rain descends. The waters from the plants drop, drop.

The corn grows up. The waters of the dark mists drop, drop.
Shall I cull this fruit of the great corn-plant?

Shall you break it? Shall I break it?

Shall I break it? Shall you break it?

Shall I? Shall you?
Shall I cull this fruit of the great squash vine?

Shall you pick it up? Shall I pick it up?

Shall I pick it up? Shall you pick it up?

Shall I? Shall you?

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

"Chomping at the bit!"





Patience, my gardening friends, patience!
I share every gardener’s restiveness, bordering on frustration, at not being able to get into the dirt this time of year. What, with the record breaking snowstorms this winter, it has been a long time since many of us in the Northeast have even seen the ground, let alone been able to work it! When the snow does finally melt, there are likely to be floods and boggy conditions that will further delay getting to work in the soil.
Still, take heart! There are subtle signs that that Chimera, “Spring,” may be real after all. Take the actual amount of sunlight we are getting. It wasn’t so many weeks ago that as early as 3:30 PM, a certain darkening began to creep over the earth. Now, it is nearly 6:00PM before the sun slips beneath the horizon. It is a little brighter, a little longer, every day.
In New York, a reliable sign of the approach of Spring is the appearance in local markets of daffodil, hyacinths, tulips and crocuses, either potted or in cut bunches. Of course, these are flown in from somewhere, or forced in some hot house, but no matter. Just the sight of them warms my heart, without regard for their origin. These flowers are the majorettes of the botanical world, heralding the parade of blossoms that is getting under way. Once one sees them, one knows it is only a matter of time before they are pushing their way out of the ground, locally.
Another sign of Spring, was the sight of pigeons on West End Avenue, gathering twigs for a new nest. Surely their internal clocks are on schedule?
But, for those of you who crave chlorophyll and color, now, without the bother (or expense) of flying south, here are two excellent ways to satisfy your “green” desires. From now till April 11, visit the New York Botanical Garden where they are presenting The Orchid Show: Cuba in Flower. There is just one more week, until March 7, to catch the famed Philadelphia Flower Show. This year’s theme is “Passport to the World.”
Keep gardening!

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Rally for the Bees!!!






February 6th, 2010

Gardening Friends,


From my vantage here in the Northeast, as well as for a large swath of the South, this morning, the idea of “Spring” may seem far off. Yet, despite the arctic weather conditions we are experiencing, take heart! Warmer, brighter days are coming, sooner than one might imagine! If you haven’t done so already, get your seed orders in soon, so you will be ready!
Meanwhile, other, related activities are underway, that will contribute to a sort of “infrastructure” for the coming gardening season. On Wednesday, February 3, 2010, I had the honor of addressing the New York City Board of Health, speaking on behalf of proposal 161, approval of which will overturn the current ban on honey beekeeping in New York City. Here is the text of my speech:

To the New York City Department of Health, re: Legalizing beekeeping:

I would like to begin by thanking Councilman Yassky and the Board of the New York City Department of Health for giving me the opportunity to speak for the record in support of Article 161, legalizing honey bee-keeping in New York City.
Who can say what it is that first attracts one to honey bees? Is it the subtle complexity of their honey, the sweetest natural substance known to humans? Or, is it the social organization of their hives, ruled over by a queen who devotes herself to laying generations of bee eggs? Whatever it may be, the more one learns about Apis Melifera, the honeybee, more one wants to learn. The more one craves to know.
Today, around the globe, and across the United States, people are increasingly aware of the benefits and necessity of living in closer harmony with the natural world. Likewise, I believe that New York, the embodiment of a modern, urban metropolis, wants to do all it can to nurture a greener, more healthful environment for the millions of families who call it home. I come before you today, as a resident of the Upper West Side of Manhattan, who for more than twenty-five years wanted to keep bees, but because of the existing ban on bee-keeping, could not. I can think of few measures the City can take, that would be easier to enact, yet do so much to improve the quality of life for New Yorkers, as lifting the existing ban on honey beekeeping in New York.
Man’s relationship with the honeybee, represents the oldest sustained collaboration between humans and the animal kingdom. That relationship got a big boost 200 years ago this year, with the birth of Lorenzo Lorraine Langstroth, whose innovation of the “movable frame” hive, in the 1850’s made beekeeping possible for both home and commercial apiarists. That is why the 200th anniversary of Langstroth’s birth this year is an event being celebrated around the world!
There are other reasons to honor the bees. It is well established that bees play an invaluable roll in the production of our food crops. It is because of the pollinating that bees do, that many of the foods we enjoy are available when we go to the market. We are often reminded of the benefits of eating locally grown foods, although for we New Yorkers, virtually all of the foods we eat are imported from well beyond the city limits. Meantime, for reasons we don’t entirely understand, in recent years, honeybee numbers have declined, putting our food supply at risk. People everywhere need to do all they can to promote a healthy bee population.
There are many examples of successful bee keeping in urban environments. In England, the London Beekeeping Association boasts over 2,000 members. In Paris, the city sponsors a bee keeping school at the Luxembourg Gardens, an idea that New York might well adapt for local use. Perhaps some day, each of New York’s parks will have community hives and “Bee Rangers,” examples of the green jobs and economy we hope to develop. And let us not overlook Mrs. Obama’s White House apiary, which this year produced a bumper crop of organic honey.
I also come to you today as someone who, for two years, has had the challenges and satisfactions of keeping honeybees – legally – in nearby Pennsylvania. I can testify firsthand to the unexpected lessons learned, as well as to the complex sweetness of wild, natural honey. No wonder, in ancient times, honey was considered the food of the gods! All of this, and it is shown to be an effective treatment for a variety of allergic symptoms as well! The demand for bees wax, a valuable substance in its own right, far outweighs the supply. But more than just the value of the commodities it produces, honeybee keeping, licensed and monitored, offers many intangible benefits. I have observed how honey beekeeping is a catalyst for community building, bringing together a diverse group of people united by their fascination for the bees. For apartment bound New Yorkers, who may not have access to the country, urban beekeeping offers a wonderful way to engage in a dynamic relationship with Nature, that is part science education, part art, and part spiritual quest. The individuals and families who share this passion take their cues from the hive, sharing experiences and making the world a little sweeter in the process.

Copyright 2010 Everett H. Scott


I am thrilled to report that the speech was very well received, (followed by enthusiastic applause), and led to my meeting the president of nyc-bees.org, a honeybee advocacy group in New York City. It was exciting to connect with the local “hive” of people who share my enthusiasm for the honeybees and appreciate how essential they are for pollinating a healthy eco-system. Stay “Tooned” to learn if the proposal to legalize honeybee keeping is approved.
Take note! Another sign that Spring is on the march, is the upcoming Great Backyard Bird Count, from February 12th through 15th.
One of our ongoing projects involves restoring/preserving the cast iron urn that, in season, sits at the center of the potager. For decades, the urn has been painted over, so that now, after countless layers of paint, the details of the casting are harder to discern. So far, we are using sandpaper and steel wool to reveal the designs underneath. At times, it seems even brushing with a wire brush won’t be enough to get through the many strata of oil paint. Chemical strippers, while effective, are messy, caustic and require special handling to dispose of properly. Our ultimate goal is too paint it white – again. “Toon” in to watch our progress.
Keep gardening!

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Happy New GARDENING Year!!!



So, gardening friends, I'm baaack!! I admit, I got a little sidetracked, what with the holidays and being in town. In December, I satisfied my "green" urges by reading The Intelligence of Flowers, by nobel prize-winning author (1911) Maurice Maeterlinke, who wrote a compelling and intriguing analysis of why and how flowers do what they do; decorating a 7½ foot Frasier Fir, (which demonstrated remarkable needle retention) and keeping the plants in the basement “Limonaia,” well watered. I am happy to report that, so far, the Fish, Jabanero and Peruvian Purple pepper plants that I am overwintering are doing well. Now, surrounded by my favorite seed catalogues, I am ready to get down to the serious business of ordering seeds and planning for the coming growing season. Some plants are always on my growing list - Fish Peppers, Bloomsdale Spinach, Red Cored Chantenay Carrots, and Detroit Dark Red Beets - though I also try to grow something new each year. This year, it will be Kale, Nero Di Toscana. In any event, one of the most fun challenges of gardening is deciding just what plants one will attempt to grow. Some plants, say, tomatoes, might seem to be a given, but, choosing which varieties of tomatoes to grow can be hard work. (Best to plant a selection, with different traits, sizes and ripening times if you can). This decision-making is one of the factors that forms the mysterious “successful gardening” equation, which includes (but is not limited to) a. what your plot of land - or windowsill - can support, b. any given seasons' weather conditions and whether Priapus, the ancient Roman god of Horticulture decides to protect your plants from marauding rabbits!
Actually, before ordering new seed, I have taken stock of viable seed left over from last years garden. A good thing, too, as I found an ample supply of Spring Peas, (Progress # 9, a favorite and one of the first things I plant, on St. Patricks day, March 17th.) There is also a supply of seeds of Bush Beans, "Blue Lake" and "Triumphe de Farcy," Lettuce "Burgundy Red" Mix, and both White and Red varieties of Okra. Then too, friends from Europe, brought me flower and vegetable seeds, knowing how these rarer strains will appeal to me. Those packets include, Papaver commutatum (Ladybird), Raphanus sativus L. (Munchner Bier), and Aster Alpinus (Hellblau), one red, one white and one blue!
A very interesting plant that I became aware of just this past growing season is Leonitus Leonurus, or Lions Tail. It is a member of the Lamiaceae (Mint) family, and native to South Africa. Still, in zone 6, it makes a handsome specimen for the rear of a mixed bed, where its tall growth (3 to 4 feet) and unusual orange flowers, arranged whorl-like around erect vertical stems will be sure to attract attention. I will be very pleased if I can germinate some of its seed.
Of course, some things will do better than others. It is by experimenting that we learn what plants and vegetables our gardens can support. Bottom line, support your local nurseries and plant people who are experienced and stock plants and seeds that will succeed where you live. Wish me luck, as I do all of you who take to the soil to beautify the world and participate in feeding yourselves. Write and let me know what you plan to grow this year.
Other news of interest to gardeners, includes a National Honeybee Bicentennial Event, on January 21, 2010, in Mount Airy, PA. Sponsored by the Philadelphia Beekeepers Guild, The Montco Beepkeepers and the Chester County Beekeepers Association, everyone is invited to start celebrating the 200th anniversary of the birth of Lorenzo Lorraine Langstroth, (born December 25, 1810), inventor of the modern bee hive. His creation makes possible the pollination of over a third of the crops we eat! Go to www.scifri.org/dte, www.phillyhoneyfest.com, or www.phillybeekeepers.org for more information and directions.
Also, those of you, who, like myself, love a water feature, should be sure to check out the Jan. 11th edition of the New Yorker Magazine, for the article by John Seabrook on fountains designed by WET, (Water Entertainment Technologies) whose principal designer, Mark Fuller, was in charge of the Bellagio fountains in Las Vegas as well as the redesign of the fountain on the plaza at Lincoln Center in New York.
Finally, let us tip our gardening hats to Dave Murbach who passed away on December 23rd, 2009, of heart disease, at age 57. Mr. Murbach bore the responsibility and distinction of maintaining the gardens of Rockefeller Center, the quintessential urban landscape design, and was especially noted for choosing their famous Christmas tree, a process that he devoted himself to 365 days a year.
Keep gardening!!!

Monday, October 26, 2009

October Catch Up!

October 24, 2009




Today, the weather became grayer as the day wore on. The weatherman has alerted us to the last of 70 degree temperatures, at least until Spring when the northern hemisphere will once again tilt towards the sun. Yesterday, these climatic changes lead me into the garden where I clipped a vase full of the last flowers of the season: Dahlias and Roses, American Calicarpa (purple) and Buddleia. Sitting on the dining room table, these blossoms continue to radiate the warmth of summer, holding the coolness of autumn at bay for a few extra hours. So, “Where have I been?” you ask, and rightly so. I apologize for not having made an entry since late summer. I do have what I believe are credible explanations for my absence, if you care. In August, I confess to having been slightly exhausted from our gardening efforts leading up to the Bucks Beautiful competition judging. When that was over, it was such a relief not to HAVE to pass hours each day, on ones hands and knees tearing at the pernicious roots of weeds, let alone documenting it.
Then, at the end of August, we experienced a terrible personal loss, to which we are still adjusting. In fact, it was in the early hours of September 1 – 6:30 AM – that our dear friend and fellow gardener, Deborah Gregory,  succumbed to an aggressive cancer. Even as I write these words I have a hard time accepting the reality and finality of their meaning. Deborah had such a vibrant personality, as any of her many friends would tell you! This was reflected in the plants she nurtured around her. She loved lush growth and even “lusher” efflorescence. Think towering Eupatorium, enormous Hostas or a monster Night Blooming Sirius, climbing out of its’ pot! Oh, how I remember her excitement upon arriving from Florida, as she did her first garden tour of the season, taking note of all that survived the winter.
As “Snow Birds,” - young “Snow Birds” at that – who divided their time between Bucks County and Florida, Deb and her devoted husband, Fred, often traveled with their favorite plants. This bestowed a sense of “hominess” immediately upon their arrival. These potted plantings complimented the in-ground plantings that she fretted over in each location. This past April, on her migration north, she even brought along two Oleanders, one white and one red, that I requested (for a little touch of Italy), since they are more easily (and more affordably) found in Florida’s sub-tropical greenhouses.  I had to confront her loss again recently, as the falling temperatures necessitated that these Oleanders and all of my and Debs’ tender potted plants be brought inside, or be lost to frost. To this end, Deb’s garden has been seamlessly integrated into my own. Fred has been relieved of a responsibility at a time when he is already overwhelmed, and caring for her plants is one way to honor Deb’s memory.
So it was, that I set up the basement “Limonaia” for the winter. In came the lemon tree, and the bananas, the pomegranate, and the palm. My “Vern’s Brown Turkey” fig, a potted mint (to keep it from becoming invasive) and the strawberry pots. Three varieties of pepper plants – Fish, Poblano and Peruvian Purple – were dug from their garden beds and potted up for wintering over inside. These plants have been joined by Deborah’s ferns, her Night Blooming Sirius and several specimens whose botanical identity are as yet unknown to me. I will remember her whenever I see them.
     There have been other distractions, as well. In Manhattan, in late August, there was what meteorologists call a “microburst”
storm over my neighborhood on the Upper West Side, leaving serious damage to our parks in its wake. In Riverside Park, upwards of seventy large trees were lost, and in Central Park, nearly two hundred mature trees came down, lending a denuded appearance to parts of these neighborhoods. The danger of falling branches actually caused the temporary closing of the 103rd St entrance to Riverside Park, much to Jaspers’ chagrin. For days after the storm, the sound of wood chippers devouring fallen limbs reverberated off the stately facades of Riverside Drive and Central Park West. The mountains of mulch they made still dot the local landscape. One can only hope that the lost trees will be replanted as soon as possible.
     But, not all of the experiences since my last entry have been so heart-wrenching. On October 10th, Montcobeekeepers.org sponsored the first ever “Bee Fest,” held at Temple University’s Ambler Campus. Experienced beekeeper, Mark Antunes, who is the current president of the Montgomery County Beekeepers, acted as host and MC. He introduced presentations by a roster of speakers, including “Bee-whisperer,” Jim Bobb, president of the Pennsylvania State beekeepers Association. Jim addressed the topic of native plants and flowers available to our bees throughout the calendar year. Mike McGrath, of the NPR program “You Bet Your Garden,” spoke about natural and organic techniques for maintaining a healthy environment for the bees and their vital importance as pollinators of our food supply. A bee researcher, Maryann Tomasko Frazier, addressed the toxic effect of herbicides, pesticides and fungicides on honey bees and other pollinators. Bottom line, avoid them as much as possible!
Vendors were on hand offering everything from unfiltered, natural honey - bottled or in the comb - to specialists offering heirloom bulbs and seeds, known to appeal to bees. There was a small library’s worth of beekeeping books for sale, and some fashionable T shirts designed by members of the Montcobeekeepers.org. I believe there may be a few still available, for those who act fast. Christmas is coming!
No one who has seen this blog will be surprised to hear that I have been photographing the garden. It may however, come as a surprise to learn that I have been using my 8 X 10 Deardorff camera, and black and white film to do it. Eliminating color, one focuses on the textural relationships, organization and structure of the garden. One exchanges the “literalness” of color for the more abstract qualities of black and white imagery. This is an ongoing project, which, in time, I may mount to the internet. One of the big joys of this project has been to look at actual paper prints, rather than pixels on a screen. Nontheless, here is a digitized image from that group that I hope the viewer will enjoy.
As if these activities weren’t enough to keep me occupied, I have also given a great deal of attention to designing a garden feature for an historic property in New Jersey. While this is likely to remain an unrealized project, it is so appealing an idea to me that I have worked on writing about it as though it might actually come to fruition. The hope is that this idea may serve to inspire the imaginations of the committee that is charged with determining the property’s future. More about this, to come.
All of this, and still I found time to read parts of a charming book, French Dirt, by Richard Goodman. (Algonquin Press of Chapel Hill, 2002). In it, Mr. Goodman recalls his experiences over the course of a year, living and gardening in the South of France. I think it will appeal to gardeners and travelers, alike.
So then, that about brings things up to date, for now. Of course, there is more, there always is when one is discussing gardening, but that will do for now. Keep gardening!

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

The judges Decision!




Friends,
as mentioned in the last post, here is the letter we received informing us of the judges decision, and one of their scoring sheets and written comments. Now, we'll be weeding more then ever!!!

Friday, July 31, 2009

Buck's (More) Beautiful



     The reader may recall from Junes’ Toonmoose blog, that the Milford Historical Society’s garden tour, in which we were invited to participate, was canceled for this year. What the June blog did not point out, was that for the second time, we would be participating in the annual Bucks’ Beautiful summer garden competition, in which we were awarded second place in the combination flower/vegetable garden category last year. Anticipating the work involved, I delayed entering until the last minute. Then, when Debbie Hays of the Central Buck’s Chamber of Commerce wrote to inform us of the garden judging schedule, the pressure was on.
So began what seemed like months (it was actually a few weeks) of frenzied scrambling around in the dirt, in positions only a yogi master could identify. It is a wonder that my poor fingers, crimped up from days of wrestling the roots of noxious weeds from the ground, can take pen to paper!
     As with so many things, J led the way, often appearing in the garden before seven AM, outfitted with straw hat, rubber-coated, stretch gloves, a foam knee-pad and his favorite gardening tool, a wooden-handled “claw” bought at a flea market for fifty cents. “Crocs” for our feet, of course. Jeans, that started the summer with mild wear at the knee, would, in the coming days develop gaping holes, surrounding our exposed kneecaps with heavy, fringe-like dangling strings. Which brings up the question, “What is your favorite “garden-get-up?” The first five responders to send a photograph of themselves in full gardening regalia will receive a free “Toonmoose” garden” treat.
     Jasper, our Irish Terrier, monitored our progress from the shade. A “trug” was ever at the ready, to cart away the seemingly endless number of bags of weeds that will, in time, become compost. We could hardly be blamed for identifying with the proverbial “prisoners, “ digging their way to freedom! Of course, at the beginning, a task like this – preparing a garden for judging – seems hopeless, given that for weeks, the weeds have run riot over ones intended plantings. Even so, one begins the campaign, waged one root at a time. Bit by bit, leaf by leaf, we made progress, editing out the weeds and giving definition to our desired plantings. Without getting into the “zen” of weeding, suffice it to say that we each developed a true relationship with the soil, what the French would call the “terroir.” In these days, the garden became the focus of our shared obsession. Simply put, we wanted the garden to look it’s “personal best,” independently of how any judge might assess it. That said, having been awarded Second place in last years Buck’s Beautiful competition, we felt a certain challenge to improve on our presentation. But, would we do enough? All of our efforts built to a crescendo in the week leading up to Friday, July 17, when the judges were scheduled to appear between 9AM and 2PM. Counting back the time required to accomplish our tasks, we identified a list of goals and set about accomplishing them, often working from sun up until the lightning bugs began to flicker. In one radical stroke, J ripped out a bed of Hollyhocks in the side-yard, beneath the kitchen window. He realized that the appeal of their blossoms would be overshadowed by the ugly “rust” attacking their leaves, and with a few deft strokes – chop, chop, chop – they were history. He was careful to gather the fallen leaves to minimize the presence of the disease in the soil. Where those plants had been, we now introduced a bench, creating a new seating spot in the “orchard” with potted oleanders , one red, and one white, on either side.
     Only the worst of the midday heat drove us inside, and then only to fuel up for more weeding. The day of the judging, after a fitful nights’ rest, which I interrupted to make a pitcher of fresh lemonade for the judges, I arose before five AM. It would become a sunny, hot day, but first, there was one more list of things to do, that I was convinced would help define the atmosphere of the space: the sphinxes needed to be put in place, astride the walk, but only after the sun had dried the morning dew from the grass. A weighted string needed to be dropped from the sleeping porch to the ground for the morning glories to be trained upon. What seemed like another mile of the walk still needed to be edged, by hand-ripping out the overgrown grass. The rabbit-guard fencing needed to be opened, to give the judges access to the “potager.” Lastly, I had the recommended balloons to tie in front of the house, to identify the location for the judges, and a “Garden Open Today” sign to tack to the front gate.
Last year, the judges began their rounds at our house, arriving shortly after 9 AM. This year, when first 9:30, then 9:45 passed and no judges had arrived, I became concerned. Were they lost? Not likely in the age of GPS. For another two hours, till 11:40, J and I paced about the garden, pulling a weed here, deadheading a spent blossom, there. I tried to do the Times crossword, but found myself unable to concentrate. An encounter with a baby Praying Mantis, my first such sighting of the season, I took as a good omen. Considering that we had begun this garden just four years earlier, from scratch, we felt good about what we had achieved. We just hoped the judges would appreciate our efforts.
I was inside when the judges’ car pulled up in front of our house, unmistakable with its “LUV2PLNT
license plate. Two ladies got out, clipboards in hand, and again, for the second time in two years, I was amazed that neither of these ladies was wearing a hat! On a bright, sunny day, when one planned to be outside, weren’t they required? Apparently not. I went out to welcome the judges, and to thank them for coming to visit the “potager” at Penrose Bungalow, “an American garden, reflecting a world of ideas.” I was eager to provide some context for the garden, but soon realized that, if we had done our work, the garden would do that for itself. I pointed out the orchard, the “potager,” the herb garden, asparagus and flower beds. I informed the judges of the presence of the honey bees, lest one of them be allergic, then left them to experience the garden for themselves. About this time, J appeared, bearing a tray with the pitcher of lemonade and ice-filled glasses; a refreshing treat that the judges and I appreciated. In twenty minutes time, it was all over.
Then, the waiting began. After such intense focus on our gardening chores, it was a struggle to redirect our energies. It had become “second nature” to start the day with a trowel in hand. In fact, after a brief respite, we reverted to our “old habits,” beginning and ending the day in the garden, though at a more relaxed pace.
This week, ten days later, the judges decision arrived in the mail. Below, you can read the results for yourself. My personal favorite quote comes from judge Estee Franks, who wrote “the passion is evident!”