The Summer of '25

The big projects for this season were 1) rebuild the old deck & 2) sit out there all afternoon.
{Mission accomplished!}

Deathly still in the garden this morning. Not a breath of air. The occasional chirp of an optimistic chickadee. The lazy buzz of a weary bumble bee, flitting through the Hollyhocks ~ too hot, too tired, to work very hard. Lots of my perennials feel the same, many have given up. Shifting into survival mode. Relentless heat taking it's toll. [These photos were snapped throughout the season. This summer's greatest hits.] 

93 degrees. It hasn't rained in 48 days.

It wouldn't be summertime without a few Heavenly Blues.

I'm pretty worn out, too. I think you have to live with severe drought, in order to understand how it messes with your mood. For me, green makes everything feel better. More normal, less dire. And cooler, too! Crunching through a dead field where the horses can’t find a blade of grass to nibble on, where the only happy critter is a grasshopper… Well, that’s no fun. Though that's where we're at, during this hot mean season.

The heat has been relentless. The monsoons passed us by. Not a drop of rain.

In spite of all that… I’m calling this a truly terrific summer.

Heat-loving Yarrow

Stayed home all season, which is highly unusual for me. Enjoying the peace and contentment of sitting still. Having learned our lessons from prior years, we’re vacationing in late autumn. When, hopefully, the crowds of tourists, on vacation, have already gone home. [Hmmm... what are the odds?] That free time felt so peaceful ~ and it's a big reason why the gardens were looking extra pretty this year.

A summer where I started early, with a lengthy list of big fun projects. And I got most of them done!

Italian Heather. Didn't know there was such a thing.
Just FYI? I killed this so fast. Dead within a week of transplanting. A new bad gardener record!

Last night. When I stepped out of the shower, I saw something brand new. And quite surprising.   

Is… that… a… muscle? I asked myself, while looking in the mirror. Both naked arms bent above and behind my head, futzing with barrettes to clip back my wispy hair. Wow. Both upper arms missing the flabby skin from yesteryear. Both sporting well-defined muscles. I guess I have succeeded with one improvement during this let’s lose 20 pounds, or gain 5, as is my lot in life, blue collar summer. Three cheers for one fabulous success story. Or. Let’s make it two.

Wild 4 o'clocks. The most waterwise perennial in my garden.
She's not actually in my garden, she lives in the ditch, in front of my house.
But I still take credit for her gorgeous flowers.

The side-of-the-house garden (yes, I know, that's kind of a lame name) has rarely looked more beautiful. A joy to the senses as I hand-watered the hard to reach spots, oohed and aahed over the first Hollyhock blossoms. People often ask what’s my favorite color. It’s typically beyond their level of comprehension when I reply: My favorite color is the color of the flower that I'm looking at right now.

Like this morning. When I fell madly in love with Miss Hollyhock’s Petal Pink. Wondering if, perhaps, my complexion has changed after all these long years and maybe now I can wear petal pink. [That's still a big no.]

We've got Columbines coming out our ears this summer.
Tip: If you deadhead they will bloom all season long.

Every fun discovery in the gardens, prompts another project. Seeing the gangly Hollyhock, taller than me, optimistically hoping she could outgrow the aspen tree… I trimmed aspen branches to gift her more sunshine. 

Heirloom roses

All the while enjoying the subtle, yet quite delightful, scent of the John Cabot Roses, who bloom all summer, in spite of the heat. An entire hot pink wall – 8 feet tall and 10 feet wide. [How did that happen? Covid, that's how! There was nothing else to do so I planted a wall of roses.]

When the winds rustled the branches, it looked like a hundred pink butterflies, fluttering in the breeze. My blouse covered in rose petals.

John Cabot Roses bloom all summer long.

On hot exhausting days. Which has been pretty much all of them. My gardens look like a rag tag mess of bright color, with no planning whatsoever. Overly critical people (is there any other kind these days?) will often ask: why did you plant these perennials in this strange place? 

What makes you think I had anything to do with this? Quite a few of them planted themselves. 

The weeds wouldn’t be nearly so difficult to manage if I laid down fabric and mountains of mulch. But if I did that, important seeds couldn't take root. The wildflower ladies, who reseed themselves, make or break this garden every season. 

Wild Blue Penstemon

Such as the sky blue wild Penstemon - seeds snitched from the Yellowstone backcountry on that glorious week long trail ride with my horse, Sable. Just a handful of seeds, pilfered when no one was looking. This stunning blue wildflower has birthed at least 50 offspring plants, because I gifted her the freedom do whatever she pleases. 

Hollyhocks reseed themselves, too.
Tip: Avoid purchasing packages of seed; they rarely do well.
Collect seeds from friends and neighbors. Or me. I'll send you some, just let me know.

Like cats, you can’t really tell a wildflower what to do. She will survive, or not, as she wishes. I can begin with what I feel is the right location, but chances are pretty good she’ll reject my hospitality. I scatter the seeds, cross my fingers and hope she appreciates the home I have provided for her.

Paintbrush (pruinosa)
* Careful with this one; she's parasitic.

And even when she does appreciate the spot I have chosen, that doesn’t mean she’ll come back in the same place every year. 

Last season, half of the Penstemon decided to bloom beneath the garden bench. Preventing me from sitting out there and enjoying all my hard work. This year, the pink Columbines have chosen to sprout in cracks in the sidewalk. Of which I have many. 

Russian Sage loves the heat.

The wild Asters and - yes I bought one but now I have dozens - Russian Sage literally walked away from the well-watered garden bed, preferring to bloom in the bone dry dirt on the outside of the fence. 

And those Hollyhocks? I think they’re on a mission to abandon my yard entirely. Every year, they move farther west. Possibly eyeing the vast meadow across the road from me.

I  💜 Volunteers!
These little cuties are annuals, but they reseed and re-fill my planter every summer. Never need to buy more.

The term “any way the wind blows” was more than likely invented by a wildflower gardener. Because we’re not in charge and rarely consulted. 

Wild Chamomile + hybridized Kniphofia Flamenco

Though some years it comes together so beautifully that it’s almost like the plants held a big group meeting. Hammered out a clever strategic plan and ~ for once in their long lives ~ obeyed the timetable. Flowers unfolding at the same time. In all the right places.

Knautia Macedonica ~ Not a Pincushion Flower, though they look like twins.

As I dash back and forth amongst the blossoms, dodging the hummingbirds, avoiding the bees, grinning at the butterflies, snapping dozens and dozens of photos… it’s almost like I can hear ‘em whisper. Don’t get too excited. This garden will look totally different. Same time. Next year.

I will leave you with my $250.00 tomatoes. All 6 of them. I felt they needed a really fancy planter in order to do well. But this is all I got for my trouble. Honestly, I don't even know why I bother.

Here's hoping you're enjoying a marvelous gardening season.

The Start of the Season

It is the last day of May. And spring has finally arrived in the mountains. 

We're lightyears behind gardeners in kinder climates. Who are likely showing off landscapes filled with brightly blooming flowers. But we're getting there. And it's nice to step outside in the early mornings - to photograph what's happening.

Heavenly Blue Morning Glories are flowering like crazy! They should be. I planted them in January. 😊 That's snow in the background. These beauties are toasty warm, flowering in the sunny window. It's a well-known fact that we cannot control the weather -- but there are lots of ways to wiggle around what Mother Nature has to offer. 

Jack Frost (aptly named) Brunnera doesn't care about the nasty weather. Often the first flower to bloom in my garden. Tiny little things. Smaller than my thumbnail. [Plant in full shade.]

And wild Meadow Phlox doesn't care about the drought. 

Which is a good thing -- because, climate-wise, it's been weird around these parts. Snowing and freezing in late May. Beastly hot and dry in April. So hot, I would have turned on the a/c - it was 85 (f) degrees in this house. But the a/c was still buried beneath a drift of snow! 

The volatile weather might be why the Flowering Almonds have decided it's time to kill themselves.

While it was raining, then snowing, then freezing.. I attended a Floral Arrangement class with my daughter.

That was so much fun. This is my masterpiece. ↑

Plus - I learned something super helpful about cut flowers. Dissolve a couple tablespoons of sugar + the same amount of white vinegar into a quart of water. Cut flowers will last a lot longer.

And we welcomed a new furry friend into the fold. 

It has been a hard, hard year for me. My dog, Charlie, passed away from what vets are calling the 'mystery illness.' Plaguing dogs in 14 western states. 

That just tore me to pieces. The only time I was in touch with my emotions was when I lost my temper with well-meaning friends saying life goes on. I don't want life to go on. I want life to go back to the way it was before. 

But loneliness has a way of changing your mind about those things. And when this little guy was dropped into my lap. By another one of these well-meaning aka incredibly annoying + far too controlling friends. I decided to keep him.

The view from my window. The view from up here.

Here's hoping the weather is kind and your gardens are brightly blooming.

Utah Tulip Festival

* Scroll to the bottom of this post for tips on visiting the Utah Tulip Festival.

On the one sunny day, in between the recent rains, I took a long drive to tiptoe through 55 acres of Tulips. 

I can count on one hand the number of Tulips blooming in my own garden - that number is one. ↑ This one. Because it's cleverly hidden in a planter on a second story deck so critters can't reach it, to eat it.

Here, in Utah, we have what is called a burrowing ground squirrel, who dearly loves to eat my Tulips. Locals call this animal a Pot Gut. Every spring I like to call them little bastards. 

Hence the motivation to drive to Lehi, Utah, to the Thanksgiving Point Tulip Festival.

If you and your friends have ever entertained the notion of taking a spring Tulip Trip, you might want to pay Utah a visit. 

Logistically, it's so much easier than the Michigan Tulip Festival. < Which is a great festival! 

The Utah Festival involves lots less driving.

We're not nearly as impressive as the Keukenhof Gardens. But like I said. Logistics! You don't have to fly to the Netherlands to enjoy the pretty flowers.

I have maybe 200 tulip pics clogging up my phone at the present moment. Thought you might enjoy taking a peek at some of the better ones.

If you're planning to visit this season - hurry up. Tulips are blooming 30 days ahead of schedule. Some are already past peak bloom time. 

We've had a hot, dry spring which does not bode well for the upcoming gardening season. 

Took this day trip, immersing myself in these beautiful flowers, because I think it's a really good idea to get out of your head now and then.

Last night, a young woman in her 20's, sent out what sounded, to me, like a distress call. [From the tone of her voice.] 

"Women over 40 give one piece of advice to women in their 20's." 

Tiktok being the place that it is... responses included Women's Rights protests, Israel-Hamas war protests, political marches, product and company bans. All worthy causes. [Just FYI - the GardenTok part of Tiktok is wonderful. I learn a new trick every time I watch their videos.]

I told her to breathe.  

Naturally no one listened to me. Americans are very angry. They have every right to be. But it can feel exhausting. And I still feel I have a valid point. 

Breathe. Ignore the news for the entire day. Take a walk among the tall trees. Or better yet. A flower field. 

It is very, very easy to become overwhelmed with the negativity in the news, all around the world, right now. And while I don't believe it's wise to behave like those proverbial Ostriches -- who have never, ever, put their heads in the sand. I do believe it's important to Breathe. To take a deep breath. And step outside. Enjoy the simple beauty that surrounds you.

You might be surprised how good that makes you feel.

TIPS: Utah Tulip Festival AKA Thanksgiving Point Tulip Festival. Located 30 miles from the Salt Lake City airport.

• Plug ASHTON GARDENS into your phone for directions. If you use Thanksgiving Point, phone maps will send you to the wrong place.
• Resist the urge to arrive at 10:00 a.m. Everybody shows up at that time, parking can be a nightmare.
• Allow at least 3 hours to see all the beautiful flowers they have to offer.
• And make darn sure.. you set aside extra time to have lunch at the Trellis Cafe.

The Sun Shines Hot and The Wind Blows Cold.

Check out the flower buds. I've never seen a Wandering Jew flower. Is this common?

Busy month. Celebrating double birthdays, trying my luck on the ski slopes, finally biting the bullet and remodeling a 30-year-old kitchen, flying to LA to witness a California Poppy super bloom, re-potting nearly every houseplant in my house. Well. Now that March is finally over. I think a nap is in order.

Yes. I know. This is a terrible photo. :)

The Dahlias are blooming. Don't be too impressed. We're months out from beautiful flowering gardens, this high in the mountains. Sunny windows are the playground when it's snowing outside. 

Chopped most of the roots off my Kalanchoe - and she went absolutely bonkers with the blossoms.

Was equally abusive to the yellow Kalanchoe. With the same wonderful flowering results.

Which naturally inspired me to beat up on the orange ones, too. 

Kalanchoe are a favorite of mine. Quite common, most folks throw them away after they flower. But they're perennials. They'll re-bloom given half a chance. 

* Root trimming helps keep much-loved houseplants to manageable size. Inspires lots more flowers. Trim the skinny roots, don't cut the tap root, that's the one that matters.

I'm so head over heels in love with this girl, I thought you needed an extra large photo.

My darling granddaughter turned 6. 

Which prompted everyone to insult me about how I'm getting old. 

Why insult me? Howsabout complimenting the kid? Her dress is beautiful, she picked it out herself. It is not a blinding neon rainbow pattern. My little girl is growing up!

* My own daughter has the same birthday, hence the double celebrations. She avoids photos, believing that she's "getting old."

Age is a box people put you in. 

We decided our own mother was 'old' when she turned 80. Which seems appropriate. Thanks to media brainwashing my generation is considered old when they turn 60.

Lifting the lid off the age box, I decided to go skiing. (I live in a ski resort, it's only about 10 minutes to the slopes.)

Haven't skied in a long time and everyone assumes that's because I'm old. Enough already. I'm not that old. But I am rather tight-fisted! And I just can't believe it costs $240, for a single day lift ticket! 

Wish I could say skiing is like riding a bike. But I hardly ever fall off a bike. Though it was a nice fluffy powder day. The apres ski bar was fun and the tumbles were soft.

During.

Plus. Skiing got me out of the house. While noisy men with power tools caused some mass destruction. I've been tolerating The Horrendous Kitchen for about as long as I can remember. It got particularly bad during covid. Remember covid? When everybody painted the walls because they were tired of climbing the walls? 

Before.

I chose a paint color called Grey Flannel Pajamas. Such a cute name. Turned out to be periwinkle, a purple Easter egg kitchen. Been scowling at that color choice ever since.

Poppies blooming in France.

Have you ever seen a super bloom? I was lucky enough to see one in France. And it's true what they say. Well, I don't know if anybody actually says this but I will. Once you tip toe through a stunning flower field like this one, you're desperate to do it again.

To continue avoiding the men with noisy power tools, destroying my kitchen, we took off to LA. The location for the most amazing super bloom Poppy Fields. And I had it all figured out. You know. Me. The gardener. Believing I know what I'm doing. Monitoring the nightly temperatures, the rain fall, etc. 

Yep this is gonna be the perfect week to go! 

We did not see a single Poppy the entire time we were in California.

Though we were surrounded by stunning yellow wildflowers along the beaches. While eating and drinking our way across Santa Monica. < Which is always a wonderful Plan B.

After.

Returned home to a brand new kitchen. Where I sit at the new kitchen counter in the early hours of the morning, sipping my coffee and asking myself repeatedly. Why didn't I do this 20 years ago? It would have been paid off by now! 😉

Winter Garden

It's a jungle in here.  

Kangaroo Paw

Every sunny window is happily hosting a variety of flowering bulbs and perennials. 

Do you plant outdoor flowering bulbs indoors? I found it's my saving grace during the long dark of a cold dreary winter.

Temptation Amaryllis

Managed to photograph these on a bluebird day. But that's been very rare this winter. Lots of wind and dark grey skies.

Which definitely messes with the mood.

If I'm not looking at my flowers.. I'm looking out my window at this. Which clearly indicates we won't be playing in the mud any time soon.

* In case you're wondering, that's the Olympic Ski Jump across the meadow. They must be having a competition, I rarely see it lit up like this.

Above - Primula Denticulata - shade lover - perfect for indoor winter gardens. 👆

The Freckle Face plant 👆 - also a shade lover. Displays no flowers, just foliage - she sits on my nightstand, seems perfectly happy (has doubled in size) with light from my bedside lamp.  * Keep moist. *

Tiny Iris, about the size of my thumb.

I went a little overboard this year.  A preemptive strike against the winter blues.

And it works! See? 

You barely notice we're in the midst of another blizzard when you have fragrant Hyacinth blocking the view!

Science Experiments

Why do you have so many flowers?? Asks my darling granddaughter.

Color, fragrance, in a stark white winter world. 

Re-blooming Orchid (I'm as surprised as you are :)

The thrill of success when they bloom. The sobering acknowledgement of defeat when they don't.

WINTER GARDENS:

I'm sure you've seen aisles of these bulb packets, on sale, typically 50% off at the end of November. 

1. Grab some!
2. Store Daffodil, Tulip, Hyacinth, etc. bulbs, in the bags, as you purchased them.
3. Store in your refrigerator, the produce drawer is a good spot. 
4. Bring them out after about 6 weeks of forced cold temperatures. 
5. Grow in water, or plant in soil.
6. Set on a sunny windowsill and wait for them to work their magic.

Once warm, bulbs are anxious to grow. You'll be surprised how quickly your windowsills are adorned with bright color.  

* Do not store apples in the refrigerator with your bulbs. Apples emit ethylene gas which messes with bulbs. It's particularly hard on Tulips. Which is why I only have one Tulip. Because I forgot. :))