Left to a Garden

Lawnmower on Break viewed through Tetrahedral chain by (who else) Tess

monster rhubarb

The previous owners established and maintained nice plantings.  In front near the street the perennial bed has had something blooming every week since late April’s Hyacinths and Croci.  Now the Lilies are getting ready to pop, the Bee Balm is out strong.  The grass is brown, of course, after a dry week when we were gone.  Most of these pics are from the last couple days of June.  After the heavy clay at the old house it’s quite a change to have this soil.  The Hydrangeas seem to be thriving in spite of our neglect.  The raised beds in the little fenced-off area are not well built, but that soil, which a neighbor told me contained the old owner’s compost, (Ooops, I mean compost kept and maintained by the old owner, not her actual remains) is light and supports many left over plants, including the monster Rhubarb in one of these photos (who put the ‘h’ in “Rhubarb” anyway?)
These are the hydrangeas in back, under the Crabapple which needs some serious pruning.  There are way fewer Hydrangea in front, but now that they have bloomed we see that they’re pink.  maybe that’s good.  This rhubarb anyway grew so quickly in our very damp spring that the stalks were all 2 feet long before we even thought about cutting some.  We cut a few one evening talking to our Trinidadian neighbor over the fence.  He had never heard of the stuff, but said he’d try it.  Tess cautioned that it probably wouldn’t be very good, because of how quickly the plant had grown.  We cut a few more stalks.  They were very wide.  I put them in the fridge thinking of making rhubarb pie.  If they’re still in there now, I’d better hunt for them and toss’em.

Then the raspberries we thought a nuisance started producing.  There’s a thicket of red ones that go nicely with cereal and yogurt.  Early in the season a bunch of black raspberries fell victim to our gardening  objectives.  They were growing along the fence next to the bed we wanted for chard and tomatoes, and there were little vines of poison ivy in amongst their canes.  Now that I see the pretty berries of the few surviving plants, I’m feeling, not guilty, but a bit regretful it had to be this way.

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