I have a passion for stone. Here are a few pics where I’ve used some.

I never use pavers. I think stone is far more attractive.

Boulders anyone?

I must be nuts! I hauled this stone 400 miles in a little 1/2 pick-up truck. Each load weighed nearly a ton and I made 23 trips. Many of the slabs had to be cut in order to fit in the bed of the truck too.

The photo doesn’t do justice to this stone. It really is a beautiful purple color.

Add perennials and a garden becomes picture perfect.

Last but not least is a pic of a Sex Stone. Whats’ that? It’s a Big F$%&ing Rock of course.

 By now you must have guessed I’m a working gardener. And you can also see why I’ll never drive a nice truck.

 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  Warm lush summer daydreams have been replaced by some cold hard truths.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.