Morning.

Phew, less than twelve hours later and I’m back!  Daylight is pretty.

Anyway, established plants are always squirrel-resistant:

Honestly, I do *not* remember this hosta being so huge last year. Maybe I have a greener thumb that I thought?  Or ripping out violets helped?  Or maybe its just matured and I have nothing to do with it.

Honestly, I do *not* remember this hosta being so huge last year. Maybe I have a greener thumb that I thought? Or ripping out violets helped? Or maybe it's just matured and I have nothing to do with it.

Spooky. With added shadow!

Spooky. With added shadow!

The success of the above makes me happy.  Under this lie the disintegrated corpes of pet hamsters, gerbils, and a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest. Don’t want to go digging around under there. Pet Semetery!

Something old, something new.  Planted blueish one yesterday.  Lower left corner is three years old (or so).

Something old, something new. Planted blueish one yesterday. Lower left corner is three years old (or so).

I had forgotten about that fern-y looking thing as well.  It was obscured by violets.

Years-old clematis still trying hard, but looking sad.

Years-old clematis still trying hard, but looking sad. (This was one of my mum's favourites.)

Sedum gone wild!

Sedum gone wild!

And now the established, but unwanted.  Virginia creeper.  Originating under my neighbour’s patio, it cannot be killed.  We’ve tried.  For more than a decade.

I mean, creeping vine-y things are nice, but not when they start spreading across the whole yard, tripping you up, and generally being a nuisance.

I mean, creeping vine-y things are nice, but not when they start spreading across the whole yard, tripping you up, and generally being a nuisance.

Onto to the veggie battlements, since vegetables don’t have the advantage of age to defend them:

In addition to the pumpkin cage, I have pinned down chicken wire with sticks and taken advantage of a collapsed shoe rack to protect my leeks.

In addition to the pumpkin cage, I have pinned down chicken wire with sticks and taken advantage of a collapsed shoe rack to protect my leeks.

Not only that, but I sprinkled red pepper flake is stuck in bits of cat fur to keep the fuckers out.

Not only that, but I sprinkled red pepper flake and stuck in bits of cat fur to keep the fucking squirrels out.

My tomatoes were big, but leggy, so they are stilted.  Note, again, the cat fur tuft tucked into the pot.

My tomatoes were big, but 'leggy', so they are stilted. Note, again, the cat fur tuft tucked into the pot. This has worked in the past.

On notes (almost) completely other, I bought a Black-Eyed Susan for the big barrel.  Fingers crossed.  Mum was not black-eyed, but her name was Suzan.

Planted on Mothers Day.

Planted on Mother's Day.

C’est tout for now.  Building more boxes in the next week or two for beets, parsnips, broccoli, and something I’m not remembering right now.

3 Thoughts on “Morning.

  1. wipeout on May 11, 2009 at 11:31 said:

    Hostas do get bigger every year if they’re in a happy place. It is particularly satisfying.

  2. Kelly on June 7, 2009 at 06:31 said:

    A Japanese painted fern! I love mine, although it seems terribly delicate, needing just the right amount of water, plenty of shade and no weeds nearby. Still, nice ROI.

    If your hostas keep this up, they’ll need to be split in another year or so…

    • admin on June 7, 2009 at 09:39 said:

      Mine seems pretty resilliant, since the only thing it had going for it was the shade (and maybe the water). It was completely surrounded by violets and other weeds. That’s probably why it’s still pretty tiny.

      Splitting hostas, eh? I may ask for advice on that.

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