WiseAcre Gardens

 I’ve had time to make the rounds to a lot of garden blogs this winter and have yet to see any reference to garden gnomes.  I don’t know of a single gardener in my area that has one. I’m not inclined to have one myself since I find most to be a bit tacky. Maybe it’s the over exposure of the Travelocity gnome that’s turned me off to them. It’s probably just a matter of taste but the majority leave me with a bad one. 

But there are a couple I wouldn’t mind having hanging around the garden. Like me, they’re a bit off the beaten path of normalcy. The “cleaver” gnome suits me fine. It wraps up my general feelings toward gnomes perfectly. This is one I would enjoy having around.

 In the woodland garden I would like the swinging gnome. I’m not so cruel as to want it hanging by it’s neck. This one I actually think would be cute to have swinging over the hostas and astilbe.

But there is still the question of what happens when you turn your back to a gnome. If interested follow the link to find out.

What do gnomes do when you’re not looking?

You’ll also find a good gnome repellent.

The link will open a new window. Just close it when you’re done viewing. The page was just an excerise in website design that I didn’t have the heart to “throw away”.  It’s also a good indication that I’m suffering from cabin fever.

 Each day I look to the garden . The scene is both bleak and beautiful. The garden has nearly dissapeared under a cover of deep snow.  Warm lush summer daydreams have been replaced by some cold hard truths. I am not going out to the garden. I need my rest more than it does. Winter needs to be enjoyed if not slept through.

 But I do miss the visitors. I’m even beginning to miss the unwelcome ones. You know,  the ones that show at dawn. Or those that wander around the gardens cutting their own paths through my rows and beds while no one is home. I especially dislike mothers that bring their kids.  And how about the ones that I do catch that just stand and stare back as if I was the intruder.  Some even have the nerve to come right up to the house and look in the windows. Plain and simple - some visitors are nothing more than pests.

 It’s been weeks since I saw the last visitor. Snow has covered their tracks and the only sign of them ever being here are the tops of some disliked plants poking through the snow.  I find myself hoping that it was the cold and deep snow that kept them away. I want to think they are safe with the extended family at their cedar lodgings. They might be a pain in the bud but I don’t wish them ill fortune. (at least not by any means except my bare hands) 

 The deer are missed. I like the fact that wildlife come to my yard. I’ve had to adapt and adjust. I still rant over putting up fences but we’ve reached an understanding. They can’t eat what’s inside the fence and I play Elmer Fudd outside.  Come the end of the growing season the fences come down and the deer are welcome to forage.  They’re pests and it makes it hard to garden freely but I have to admit I enjoy their company.

 I have a deer garden and learned to love it out of spite.

 The visitors that I really hate? The large groups that flock to the garden. The fence is no deterrent to a bunch of old hens intent on having a garden party. When they arrive I let the dog out just to watch them scatter. It’s hard to believe how fast 30 turkeys can turn a garden into a WW1 battlefield scene.

 Old Yellow Iris

 Old Yellow is the only name I have for this Iris.  I can’t be sure but clues point to it being from the 1940 - 1950s.

 This Iris is responsible for turning me into a perennial gardener. I had no idea  It was a chance meeting and an implusive act that sparked an infatuation that grew into a passion. It’s been around 15 years since we first met, yet Old Yellow remains the favorite in my perennial garden.

 I foraged it from an old abandoned farm..  The house had burned sometime in the mid to late 50s.  Near the ruins was a rock outcrop that had been transformed into a terraced garden. Someone had spent a lot of time and effort building stone walls where I found pennies embedded in the mortar dated 1940 and 1941. The only perennials that remained were a couple varieties of Sedum, some Hens and Chicks and one lone fan of the Iris.

 I could see that the Iris wouldn’t last another season. Quack-grass had invaded and the Iris was giving up. I must have had a sentimental moment because I dug them up and brought them home. I started my first flower garden with those rescued plants. Up to that time a garden for me meant only one thing - vegetables. Before long I was conspiring with the other side forming perennial foraging parties.  The creative  aspect of creating a flower garden had captured my interest.

 Each year the vegetable garden shrunk. Perennials, stone walks, boulders  _ OH MY,  Bee Balm, Iris, day lilies, phlox, black-eyed Susans, Sedums and Lupines had taken over. I was now addicted, I needed more and more.  I planted as if I was growing cash crops.  I still do.

 I am only half kidding when I tell people I want to be a Landscape Artist but no one told me that I was supposed to use a brush. Even if someone had told me, it would not have mattered. I can’t draw a straight line with a ruler. If I wanted to be a landscape artist I was going to have to do it the hard way. My brushes are a fork, shovel, and rake and use plants, stone and water as paint. My canvas is soil. My inspiration is nature.  I’ll never become an artist though.  But I’m doing what I love and I’ll never work another day in my life.  I’m a gardener now.  Something as simple as digging up a plant altered the path of my life.

 Fifteen years later and now there are hundreds maybe even thousands of this Old Yellow Iris. I’ve planted them all over the nearby village and even sent some around the world. Now others are sharing them and I can’t help but feel good about resucing that lone survivor. We’ve both thrived. I can look back now and see that we rescued each other. We had help and thank all those who shared their knowledge and plants.

 This is a medium height Iris and very vigorous. But the thing that really gets me is how long a blooming time it has. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say it will bloom for 2 weeks. It certainly isn’t an Iris that you would be afraid of missing the flowers if you went away for a week-end.

If anyone had an idea of what the name is I would appreciate finding out.